Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus)

She was already freezing.

And he was still snapping at her.

Isadora felt a pang of wounded pride. Relying on the fact that he usually indulged her, she decided to ignore him—at least for a little while...

But just then-

A loud crash shattered the silence.

The warehouse door burst open with a bang.

Light from outside flooded the space, chasing away the chill with a welcome touch of warmth.

Victor strode in from the doorway, radiating a cold, crackling energy that seemed to fill the room.

Wendy looked up, and there he was a tall, imposing figure silhouetted in the light.

She blinked, hardly believing her eyes, but no, it was really Victor. They were saved.

Spinning around, she was about to call out to Isadora, only to see her friend with her eyes closed, huddled up and motionless. Wendy's face went white with panic, her voice trembling on the edge of tears as she cried, "Mr. Fitzgerald, please, hurry! Isadora-she's fainted!"

Victor's head snapped toward the corner of the warehouse.

Isadora was curled into herself, arms wrapped tight around her knees, her forehead resting atop them, messy hair veiling her pale, beautiful face.

The sight of her hit Victor like a fist to the chest. His breath caught, his whole body jolted, and a wild, red fury flared up in his eyes.

In the next instant, he was across the room in a heartbeat, dropping to his knees and sweeping her into his arms.

She was ice-cold-so cold that the chill seemed to slice straight into Victor's heart, making it seize and ache so brutally he thought he might black out.

For the first time in his life, Victor tasted the bitter flavor of real fear.

He called her name again and again, his voice raw and desperate. "Isadora, Isadora, look at me—it's me, I'm here..."

Damn it.

She didn't respond.

Victor didn't dare waste another second. He scooped her up, stood, and bolted for the door.

In the haze of half-consciousness, Isadora felt a sudden warmth envelop her, along with that achingly familiar scent.

She fought to open her eyes. The first thing she saw was the sharp, tense line of Victor's jaw.

Her lips parted, voice barely above anoveldrama

whisper, so soft and weakne

almost lost: "Vi-Victor... you

so mean to me."

Victor ran, clutching her tightly.

Hearing her faint words, he looked down at her pale, bloodless face, his own eyes stinging with a pain so sharp it bordered on madness. Tears Spilled, falling onto Isado

delicate cheek. His voice was

hoarse, pleading, almost breaking:

"Isadora, I'm not mad at you. Please, don't go to sleep, okay?"

Isadora wanted to tell him she was just tired, that she only needed a moment's rest.

But she was too exhausted. The words wouldn't come. Her consciousness slipped away.

Victor didn't dare stop. Holding her close, he rushed out as fast as he could.

Back at the mansion, a suffocating tension hung in the air, pressing down on everyone like a physical weight.

In the grand hall, the guests exchanged terrified glances; everyone was too busy worrying about themselves to offer comfort.

They all knew tonight's ordeal had spun completely out of control.

Now, all they could do was pray-pray that Mrs. Fitzgerald would be alright.

Because with Victor, that madman that lunatic... if he could lock down the entire estate just to find one person, what might he do if something really happened to her?

The thought sent a chill down everyone's spine.