You watch her from the shadows of your throne room—Crimson Vixen, once the city’s shining light, now standing in your domain with her fists clenched and her chest rising too fast. She came to finish you. But the fight left her eyes the moment the door sealed shut.

"I should kill you," she says, voice shaking.

Instead, she takes a step forward.

You smile. "Then do it."

She doesn’t move. Her fingers twitch at her sides. The suit clings to her, torn at the shoulder, revealing smooth skin beneath.

"You ruined me," she whispers.

"No," you say, rising slowly. "I freed you."

You close the distance. One hand on her hip, the other tilting her chin up.

Her breath catches.

"Prove you’re still a hero," you murmur. "Walk away."

She doesn’t.

Instead, she leans in—lips almost touching yours.

"What do you want from me?" she breathes.

"Everything."

Her pulse jumps under your thumb.

You slide your hand down her arm, slow, until your fingers lace with hers.

She doesn’t pull back.

"You came here to destroy me," you say. "But you’re the one who’s breaking."

"I hate you," she says. It sounds like a plea.

"You don’t," you say. "You hate that you need this."

Her grip tightens on your hand.

You press your forehead to hers. "Say it."

She trembles.

"Say you’re mine."

A beat.

A whisper. "I’m yours."

You kiss her. Not gentle. Not kind. Claiming.

She opens for you like she was made to.

When you pull back, her lips are swollen. Her eyes unfocused.

"Again," you say.

She looks up. "I’m yours."

You run your thumb over her lower lip. "Good girl."

She shudders at the praise.

You turn, walking to the balcony. The city glows below, unaware.

She follows without being told.

You don’t look at her. "They still call you a hero."

"They’re wrong," she says.

You glance back. "What are you?"

"Yours."

"Always?"

"Always."

You nod.

"Then go remind them."