Nyxara's Gaze 18+

From her perch high above the platform, Nyxara balanced effortlessly atop her levitating staff, legs crossed like a queen observing her court. The sky was radiant, but her attention was rooted below.

Her golden eyes—sharp, ancient, unblinking—rarely strayed from Solene.

Nerys moved with the fluidity of war-born discipline. Seraphyne danced with flickers of graceful shadow.

But Solene... Solene was something else.

Nyxara exhaled, her thighs tightening slightly. "Gods... she makes me so horny..."

She bit her lower lip, voice barely a whisper, lost in the gusting wind around her.

"Ugh... I'm getting soaked just watching her move like that..."

Every time Solene conjured another deadly shard of ice, every twist of her toned body, every flash of silver hair caught in the morning light—it made something primal stir in Nyxara.

The tight clench between her legs pulsed with raw heat. She wasn't shy about it. She never was.

"If I could," she murmured, voice sultry and dark, "I'd claim her... right here on the stage. Push her down on that frozen floor, wrap her legs around me, make her moan until the clouds split."

Nyxara's magic flared unconsciously, her aura pulsing as desire crackled in her veins. Her fingers gripped the staff tighter, just to ground herself.

She swallowed, her voice ragged with arousal. " fuck, Solene... you're mine... you just don't know it yet."

Below, the fight raged on. Solene dispatched Seraphyne with brutal grace, then danced with Nerys in a flurry of motion and frost. Nyxara's heart pounded with every beat of that duel.

And when Solene stood victorious—chest heaving, skin glowing with sweat and magic—Nyxara nearly lost herself.

She leaned forward, pupils blown wide with hunger.

"Winner: Solene Cael," she said aloud.

But in her mind, something darker whispered.

Soon.