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Vice's grip on her tightened, a subtle pressure, yet reassuring. His eyes, narrowed with concern, searched hers, probing for any sign of injury, any crack in her carefully constructed facade. "You need to get out of here," he said urgently, his voice gruff with a possessiveness that resonated deep within her. "You can't stay." His words were a command, tinged with a desperate plea.

"Not without you," Ivy whispered, her eyes filled with a stubborn determination that mirrored his own fierce will. She pushed herself up onto her elbows, wincing as a sharp jolt of pain shot through her body from the fall, a chorus of aches igniting in protest. She ignored them, pushing past the tremors that threatened to overwhelm her.

Vice's expression was torn between admiration and frustration, a war waged across his hardened features. He knewhe couldn't leave her side, not now, not after everything. The thought of her leaving him, of facing the darkness alone, was unbearable. "Fine," he said through gritted teeth, his jaw tight with suppressed emotion, "but we're not staying here." He stood up, a powerful, imposing figure even in his injured state, and lifted her to her feet with surprising gentleness. His eyes never left hers, as if reassuring himself she was still there, still real, still breathing. He needed to see her, to touch her, to confirm that she hadn't been lost in the maelstrom.

But the sudden intrusion of a gunshot shattered the fragile peace, ripping apart the moment like a bolt of lightning tearing through the night sky. It echoed through the chamber, a sharp, deafening crack that seemed to resonate in the very walls themselves, a harbinger of the carnage to come. Ivy watched in horror, her breath catching in her throat, as the bullet struck Vice just above where her hand had been resting on his chest, a mere inch from her own heart. His eyes went wide with shock, a flicker of disbelief crossing his face, and for a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of fear, a raw vulnerability, before his meticulously constructed mask of stoicism slipped back into place, concealing the pain behind a wall of iron.

"Vice!" she screamed, her voice raw with terror, the sound tearing through the air like a wounded animal. The cry was primal, born of pure, unadulterated fear. She saw the crimson blossom spread across his chest, a dark, blooming flower staining his clothing with the vibrant color of death. He stumbled backward, his hand reaching for the wound, his fingers probing uselessly at the source of the pain. His grip on her released, the sudden loss of contact sending a shiver of icy dread down her spine.

James, his expression a twisted mix of triumph and rage, emerged from the shadows, a smoking gun clutched in his trembling hand. His eyes were wild, pupils dilated, reflecting the madness that consumed him. "This ends now," he spat, his voice laced with venom, aiming the weapon at Vice again, his finger hovering over the trigger.

But Ivy was already in motion, her body reacting before her mind could process the danger. She was driven by a fierce, protective instinct, a primal urge to shield the man who had saved her, the man who had become her everything. She lunged at James, a whirlwind of rage and desperation, her body a blur of motion in the dimly lit chamber. The two of them crashed to the ground in a tangle of limbs, the gun skittering away across the smooth stone floor, bouncing and clattering to a stop in the shadows.

"You stupid bitch," James snarled, his eyes wild with fury, his face contorted in a mask of rage. He straddled her, pinning her beneath his weight, his fist drawn back, ready to deliver a crushing blow. "I'm going to kill both of you, the monster and his whore." His words were a promise, a chilling declaration of his intent.

The impact was explosive, a blinding flash of pain that sent a shockwave of pain through Ivy's body, radiating outwards from the point of contact. She felt the A sickening crunch of bone against bone, the sharp, agonizing sensation of cartilage tearing. Her vision swam, and stars danced in front of her eyes, blurring the edges of the room. But she couldn't let him win. She couldn't let him hurt Vice. With a surge of adrenaline, fueled by fear and desperation, she gathered all her remaining strength, focused her energy, and brought her knee up in a swift, precise motion, connecting it with James's most vulnerable spot.

His scream of agony filled the air, a high-pitched, keening wail that echoed through the chamber. He toppled over, writhing on the ground, clutching at himself in a desperate attempt to alleviate the agonizing pain. Ivy staggered to her feet, her body protesting with every movement, each breath a painful struggle. She had to get to Vice, had to make sure he was okay. But when she saw him, slumped against the wall, she felt the world drop out from under her. He was on his knees, his hand clamped over his chest, trying in vain to stem the flow of blood that was rapidly covering his chest, menacing crimson.

With trembling hands, she ripped at her shirt, the fabric tearing easily under the force of her desperation. "I'm sorry," she whispered through gritted teeth, the pain in her own body a distant echo of the agony etched on his face. "This is going to hurt." Her voice was barely audible; a fragile whisper lost in the echoing chamber.

The room spun around Ivy as she pact his wound. Her own breath coming in ragged gasps, each inhale a painful reminder of her own injuries. The warm stickiness of his blood coated her hands, a shocking sensation that seemed to burn her skin, a stark contrast to the cold, hard stone beneath them. She could feel the life seeping out of him with every beat of his heart, a slow, agonizing drain that filled her with a dread so profound she thought she might drown in it.

Suddenly, a sharp, searing pain ripped through her, starting at her back and radiating outwards, a burning fire consuming her from the inside out. She gasped, her eyes wide with shock, her body stiffening in protest. She looked down and saw a jagged piece of scrap metal protruding from her stomach, the rusty edges glinting ominously in the dim light. Her blood flowed freely from the wound, a dark, viscous stream stainingher clothes and the stone floor beneath her. James stood behind her, a twisted grin on his face, his eyes gleaming with malevolent satisfaction. He had plunged the jagged shard of debris into her, the rusty metal tearing through her flesh with horrifying ease.

Ivy just stood there, frozen in shock, her breath catching in her throat. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, her eyes wide with disbelief and pain. Vice screamed. "Ivy, no!" he roared, his face a mask of anguish and fury, a primal scream of rage and despair. The horrifying sound of the metal being pulled out of her was a wet, suctioning sound, a sickening rip that echoed through the chamber. Her legs gave out beneath her, and she would have collapsed, a lifeless heap on the cold stone floor, if not for Vice's arms wrapping around her, catching her before she could hit the ground. His grip was firm, his body a wall of protection between her and James, a desperate attempt to shield her from further harm.

Her vision blurred, the edges of the room fading into a hazy gray. "Ivy," Vice whispered, his voice thick with pain and choked with emotion, "Stay with me." His hand was pressing against her wound, trying to stop the flow of blood, but it was like trying to hold back a flood with a handkerchief, a futile attempt to stem the inevitable. She could feel the warmth of it soaking her, spreading like a crimson tide across her skin, a chilling reminder of the precious life that was fading away.

The crumbling stones of the ancient castle mirrored the disintegration of Vice's world. Vice held Ivy, the smoky air thick with the acrid stench of burning tapestries and shattered ambitions. Vice ripped his mask off, his hood falling back. "Ivy," he whispered, his voice cracking, a raw blend of anguish and simmering fury. “I'm sorry, I should have protected you better."He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, his fingertip tracing the delicate curve of her cheekbone.

Her eyelids, heavy and fluttering, finally obeyed her will. Slowly, agonizingly, they opened, revealing the bright, green of her eyes. They met his, recognition flickering within their depths. A weak, tremulous smile touched her lips, a ghostly echo of the joy he had so desperately strived to erase. "It's…not you're fault," she murmured, the words barely audible, a fragile whisper carried on the smoke-filled air.

Vice's expression tightened, the muscles in his jaw bunching beneath his pale skin. "It is," he said, the firmness of his voice a stark contrast to the tremor in his hands. "If I would have just let you go, if I hadn't been so consumed by my own…obsession, none of this would have happened. You wouldn't be…. He trailed of unable to finish. “You're mine, Ivy,” he whispered, his thumb brushing across her clammy cheek, a desperate attempt to ignite a spark of life. "I can't let you go. I won't." The very foundations of the castle groaned and shuddered, responding to a force he couldn't control. It was a visual representation of the chaos within him; a reflection of the empire he was watching crumble around them.

He stood up, he moved swiftly down the corridor, James was nowhere in sight. His boots crunched on shattered glass and fallen stone. The castle, once a symbol of his power, was now a death trap. Fires licked at the tapestries, casting grotesque shadows that danced around them. Debris littered the floor, a chaotic obstacle course he navigated with desperate agility. He had to get her to safety, had to find some way to fix this, to undo the chain of events that had led to this moment. He had failed to protect her. The thought of losing her, of the light in those green eyes fading forever, was an unbearable torment.

Ivy could feel the frantic thrum of Vice's heartbeat against her ear, the frantic urgency in his steps. Her vision danced with black spots, threatening to consume her entirely. But she could still see the determination etched into his face, the sharp angles softened by a desperate plea. The same face that had once sent shivers of fear and revulsion down her spine was now her source of comfort she had left. She clung to him, her fingers digging weakly into the fabric of his coat, a fragile lifeline.

"Hold on," he murmured, his voice tight with a choked mixture of pain and desperation. "Just hold on, Ivy. I'm going to get you out of here."

Ivy felt the world spin around her as Vice carried her through the crumbling castle. She was vaguely aware of the chaos surrounding them—the distant rumble of collapsing walls, the sharp crack of explosions, the choking smell of burning wood and dust. But all she could focus on was the warmth of his embrace, the frantic beat of his heart, and the cold, sticky feel of the blood still flowing out her wound, seeping into her skirt. She tasted iron on her tongue, a grim reminder of her fading strength.

When they finally emerged into the night air, the cool breeze brought a brief, fleeting moment of relief, a clean contrast to the suffocating heat inside the castle. But it was short-lived.

The sharp, searing pain of her injury flared up, stealing her breath. "Vice," she whispered, her voice so faint he almost missed it. "Take care of Alice, tell her I’m sorry and that I love her.”

He nodded, his eyes locked on hers, filled with a fierce love and a desperate determination that bordered on madness."I will. I promise you, I will. Ivy," he murmured, his thumb brushing away the tears that now streamed down her cheeks, leaving clean streaks in the soot. "You're going to be okay. You have to be."

But she knew better. She could feel it, the cold creeping in, the life draining away with each ragged breath. With each passing moment, the warmth of her life was slipping away, leaving a cold, hollow emptiness in its wake. Yet, she found a reserve of strength, a final act of defiance against the encroaching darkness, to whisper the words she hadn't known she needed to say, the words that had been buried beneath layers of fear and uncertainty. "Vice, I’m yours, I love you." she managed to choke out as blood dripped from the corner of her mouth.

He leaned in, his lips brushing hers in a soft, desperate, passionate kiss that spoke of a love born from the ashes of their twisted world, a love forged in conflict and tempered by fear. For a second, she felt alive again, her heart beating a wild, frantic tattoo against her ribcage.

But the pain was relentless, a rising tide threatening to engulf her. It grew stronger, stealing the warmth from her body and replacing it with an icy, consuming grip. She felt herself slipping, the world around her growing distant and hazy, like looking through a frosted window. "Vice," she whispered again, her voice now a mere breath, a ghost of a sound. “Ivy please don’t leave me,”

"Ivy, no," he said, his voice thick with unshed tears, hoarse with raw emotion. He kissed her forehead, as if trying to will her back to life with his touch, as if his devotion alone could defy the inevitable. She used the last of her strength to bring her hand up to cup his face. He pressed her hand into his face,nuzzled it and closed his eyes. He tried to memorize the feel of her hand against his face. His hands trembled as he held hers, his immense power utterly useless against the crimson tide that stained them both.

Her breaths grew shallower, each one a struggle, each one further apart. And then, he felt her hand go limp. The chaos of the castle, the distant sounds of battle, the roaring flames all faded into a muted hum, insignificant compared to the deafening silence that now filled him. He stared at her, his eyes unblinking, locking onto every detail of her face, trying to memorize her, to etch her image into his memory. His mind raced with a cacophony of thoughts, a storm of regret and despair that drowned out everything else. He had promised to protect her, to cherish her, to love her, and he had failed. Utterly and completely.