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“You’re mine,” he growls—desperate, savage, possessive—as he takes her like its war, like he can fuck whatever that was out of her.

And then they're there, falling over the edge together. He roars as he comes, filling her with his hot seed, the intensity of his orgasm making his vision swim. He feels her body tighten around him, her own climax crashing over her in waves. They're lost in the storm of pleasure, their hearts pounding in unison as they ride it out.

As they come down from the high, he collapses on top of her, his breathing ragged and heavy. For a moment, there's nosound but the thunder of their hearts and the gentle rustle of the sheets. Then, he kisses her neck, his teeth grazing her skin in a gentle nip. "I love you," he whispers, his voice filled with a fierce possessiveness.

Ivy's own heart swells at his words, the love and darkness within her mixing into a powerful cocktail. "I love you too," she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. She wraps her arms around him, holding him close, feeling the warmth of his body against hers. They lay there for what seems like an eternity, their hearts beating in sync, their bodies still connected in the most intimate of ways.

But the moment is shattered by the sound of a door slamming somewhere in the castle. The tension in the room skyrockets, and Vice is on his feet in an instant, pulling on his pants. "Get dressed," he says, his voice harsh and commanding. "Something's wrong."

Ivy's heart still racing as she quickly gathers her clothes, the afterglow of their lovemaking replaced by fear. She slips on her dress, her hands quickly tie the laces. "It’s probably Alice,” she says, her voice steady.

Vice's eyes narrow, his expression grim. "It's too early for Alice to be up," he says, his gaze darting to the window. "Someone's here, and it's not the rebels." He grabs his coat and mask, his transformation from lover to villain instant. "Stay here, Ivy. But be ready to go to Alice. If I’m not the one that walks back through that door, don’t hesitate take the secret passageway to Alice’s room that I showed you and you both get out. Do you understand me?"

Ivy nods. She quickly pulls on her own clothes, her heart racing as she listens to the sound of his heavy boots echo downthe corridor. She knows better than to argue with him in this mood. She quickly walks to the fireplace, her body still humming with the aftermath of their passion. The castle seems to hold its breath around her, the air thick with tension.

Her thoughts swirl, a tornado of love and dread. What if it's the demon come to claim its due? What if it's something even worse? The fear for Alice is a knife in her heart, twisting with every beat. She tries to calm herself, telling herself that Vice would never let any harm come to Alice. But fear has a way of making rational thoughts feel like whispers in a hurricane.

As the moments tick by, the castle seems to come alive with the sound of distant footsteps and muffled voices. She strains to hear, her imagination painting grim pictures with each unidentifiable sound. Then, there's silence, a silence so deep it's deafening. She can feel the tension coiling tighter around her, until she can't bear it anymore.

Ivy stands there the urge to check on Alice is overwhelming, but the quiet whispers of the castle walls seem to be urging her to stay put, to be patient. But fear is a powerful motivator, and it's eating away at her resolve.

Suddenly, she hears the sound of heavy footsteps approaching, growing louder with each step. Her heart hammers in her chest, she puts her hand on the lever, ready to pull it and rush to Alice. The doorknob turns, and she watches with wide eyes as the door slowly creaks open.

Vice walks in, his coat billowing around him like a dark angel of the night. His eyes are hard and cold, a stark contrast to the tenderness that had filled them just moments ago. "You need to come with me," he says, his voice low and urgent.

Ivy nods, her fear for Alice making her heart race. She follows him through the castle, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls. The usually opulent halls feel oppressive, the shadows seeming to reach out to grab her. She clutches the fabric of her dress, her knuckles white with tension.

They enter a large chamber, and Ivy's eyes widen at the sight before her. The room is in shambles, furniture overturned, and paintings torn from the walls. At the center, a figure in a hooded cloak stands, their identity obscured. A sense of unease fills her as the figure turns to face them.

As they draw closer, she sees that it's a man, his hands tied behind his back, knees bloodied, and clothes torn. The raw anger etched into his features suggests he's been through a battle of his own. His eyes, filled with pain meet hers for a brief moment before dropping to the ground again.

"Vice, what happened to him?" Ivy's voice is a tremble, fear for Alice still a tight fist around her heart.

"This," Vice says, his voice a deadly whisper, "is the man James sent to kill you and take Alice."

Ivy's eyes widen in horror as she takes in the bloodied and bruised form before her. She takes a step back, her hand flying to her mouth.

"James did this?" she whispers, her voice barely audible. The man nods, his eyes filled with a pain so deep it seems to echo through the very stones of the castle.

"He promised me gold and power," he chokes out. "But I didn't know... I didn't know he would send me to my death."

The man’s final words lingered like rot, a coward’s confession whispered too late. Ivy’s fury ignited—no longer human, no longer restrained. It moved through her like a beast let off its leash. Her eyes burned, not just with rage, but with something deeper… darker. A force ancient and vengeful, rising from the pit of her soul.

She stormed across the chamber and seized his face in both hands. Her nails dug into his cheeks, carving bloody crescents into his flesh.

He screamed in pain and fear as he looked into her eyes. The green was gone. Only black remained. Endless. Empty. Bottomless.

“You dare threaten my family?” she hissed. Her voice wasn’t hers. It something inhuman, venomous, echoing like a growl through stone. “You’re not the first to make that mistake… but you’ll be the last to make it.”

The man pleaded for mercy, but Ivy was deaf to it. “May Satan show you some,” she spat. “Because I have none.”

Something burst inside her—a flood of wrath and power that burned away the last of her restraint. Her hands trembled, then slammed against his temples. A sickening crack filled the air.

His scream pierced the chamber as his skull began to give, caving under an invisible force. His eyes bulged, blood streaming from every opening in his face. His jaw snapped, mouth gaping as a torrent of red spilled down his chin and onto her hands. His veins blackened beneath the skin, writhing like serpents.

The man collapsed—his limbs twitching once before going still. His corpse hit the ground with a wet thud, pooling blood soaking into the cracks between the stone.

Ivy stood over him, chest heaving, hands slick with gore. She turned slowly toward Vice. Her mouth curved into a grin—feral, bloodstained, wicked. Her eyes locked onto his like prey. Then, just as suddenly, the darkness vanished. Her grin faded. Her eyes turned green again.