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don't waste your precious time on her she'll be gone soon enough. dead girl's don't get happy endings.
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LYRA DRAGONHART was living on borrowed time. Her clock had run out a long time ago and it was only a matter of time before this one gave out too. Black magic and a oily green amulet was all that kept her heart beating, but that magic was weakening and she knew that it was only a matter of time before death whisked her away. Whispers in the night kept her awake, the voices of the souls that suffered for her to live taunting her with their warnings. Death was coming, and when it came they would be waiting.
She wished she had died sooner, instead of his slow, life-sucking death that she now had to live. At seventeen she was stumbling blindly through Hogwarts corridors, her ties undone and robes wrinkled, the sickness creeping in. It was like with every swallow and every breath she was inhaling shards of glass, her mouth drying out. She felt like her body was destroying itself and indeed it was. Lyra Dragonhart was killing herself, and she'd be damned if anyone knew.
Thorned vines wrapped around her bones, stabbing into her muscles and skin, making her body scream with pain at each movement. Fire burned in her throat, searing the soft tissue until there was nothing left but a burned husk. Poison dripped into her lungs, constricting her airways and making her sluggish heart beat faster with panic. Every step, every breath, every half assed blink brought her one step closer to death─ and she would welcome it when it came for her.
