In the corridor, steel rang against steel. Dorian stood firm, his blade flashing as he blocked the Professor's strikes. Each clash sent sparks into the air, the sound echoing like thunder through the stone walls.
Professor Alaric's eyes gleamed with arrogance. "You think you can hold me back, boy?" he sneered, pressing forward with a vicious swing.
Dorian's jaw tightened. "I don't need to defeat you. I only need to keep you away from her." His stance was steady, his determination unshaken.
The Professor's strikes are relentless, each one heavier than the last. Dorian's arms trembled under the force, but his resolve never faltered. He shifted, countered, refusing to give ground.
"You're wasting your strength," the professor hissed. "She will never be free of me."
Dorian's eyes burned with bravery. "She already is. Lucien is with her. And I will not let you take another step."
The Professor charged forward, his blade slicing dangerously close. Dorian twisted, barely avoiding the strike, and struck back with a sharp slash that forced the Professor back a pace.
For the first time, the professor's smirk faltered. His arrogance cracked, replaced by a flicker of frustration.
"You're stronger than I thought," he muttered.
Dorian raised his sword, his voice steady. I'm not fighting for strength. I'm fighting for her."
With one final clash, Dorian's blade cut across the professor's arm, sending him staggering. The professor collapsed against the wall, blood staining his robes. Dorian himself fell to one knee, clutching his side where a deep wound burned.
Guards rushed in, their eyes wide at the sight. Dorian pointed at the professor, his voice hoarse but commanding. "Take him... to the cell. He's finished."
The professor, battered and bleeding, was dragged away by the guards, his arrogance replaced with silent fury.
Later, when the hall had quieted, Layla hurried to Dorian's side. her face was pale with worry as she knelt beside him. "You're hurt," she whispered, her hands trembling as she pressed cloth against his wound.
Dorian winced but gave her a faint smile. "It's nothing... compared to what could have happened."
Layla shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. "Don't say that. You risked everything." Her touch was gentle, her care steady as she treated his injuries. Dorian's gaze lingered on her face - the way her brow furrowed in worry, the softness of her lips as she bit them nervously. He was admiring her, and she noticed.
Caught under his gaze, Layla's cheeks flushed. She tried to turn away, shy under the weight of his eyes. But before she could, Dorian reached out, his hand lightly catching her wrist. he pulled her back, steady but tender, and made her meet his eyes.
Their gazes locked, unspoken words passing between them. Layla's breath caught, her heart racing, while Dorian's expression softened into something she had never seen before - admiration, gratitude, and something deeper.
She tried to look away again, but his grip held her gently in place. "Don't hide from me," he murmured, his low, almost pleading.
Layla's lips parted, her shyness melting into silence. His eyes searched hers, and finally he whispered, "You saved me, Layla. Not just my body... but something inside me I thought was gone."
Her heart thudded in her chest, her cheeks burning. "Dorian..." she breathed, unsure if she could bear the weight of his gaze.
But he didn't look away. His hand slid from her wrist to her fingers, holding them firmly. "I don't want to lose this moment. Not with you."
Layla's eyes shimmered, torn between shyness and the warmth blooming inside her. She stayed, caught in his gaze, letting the silence speak louder than words.