Chapter 12: Unbroken

The fight raged on, each strike more desperate than the last. Sylvia's movements were sharp, fluid, but there was something haunted in them—something controlled by the weight of her choices. She wasn't herself anymore. The claws on her hands extended like deadly knives, slashing through the air with precision as Nightwing dodged, countering when he could, but he was starting to slip. He could see it now. The guilt in her eyes, the way her body shook with each blow she landed. She was holding back, unwilling to hurt him, but Sabretooth's presence loomed over them like a dark cloud, forcing her to fight. Nightwing rolled under another strike, narrowly avoiding the claws that came at him with lethal speed. His momentum faltered just enough, his footing betraying him on the slick, blood-stained concrete. Before he could recover, Sylvia's claws found their mark. He felt the sharp sting across his side, followed by a burst of pain that stole the air from his lungs. His breath hitched, and for a moment, everything went still. The world spun around him. Blood welled in the deep gash across his ribcage, soaking through his suit, the pain searing. He barely had time to brace himself before he crumpled to the floor, unable to move. Sylvia froze, her claws still raised, poised for another strike. But when she saw Nightwing fall, her eyes widened in shock. The adrenaline of the fight began to fade, and a wave of panic washed over her. She rushed to his side, but her body was stiff, as if afraid to cross the line. "No..." she whispered, her voice strained with horror. "What have I done?" She knelt beside him, her hands shaking as she hovered over his injured side, the blood pooling beneath him. She felt a lump rise in her throat, guilt gnawing at her insides. She never wanted this. She never wanted to hurt him. Nightwing's voice was weak, barely a whisper. "It's... fine," he rasped. "I'll survive." But Sylvia knew better. The blood—his blood—was staining her hands. She had been forced to do this, and now the consequences were real.

But Sabretooth wasn't done yet. "Now, that's enough," Sabretooth's voice boomed, coming from the shadows, filled with dark satisfaction. He stepped forward, his hulking frame emerging from the shadows like some terrible creature. His eyes gleamed with sadistic amusement as he took in the scene. "You know what to do, Sylvia."
She turned, her heart pounding. Sabretooth's grin stretched wider, his teeth glinting in the dim light. "You've tasted blood before, but now? Now you get to savor it. Clean your claws, girl. Use your tongue. Taste your victory, like the animal you really are." The command rang in her ears like a death sentence. Sylvia's entire body went stiff, her claws still slick with the blood of the man she considered an ally. The thought of licking them, of submitting to Sabretooth's twisted request, churned her stomach. But she knew—she knew what would happen if she didn't comply. Her mother's life, her freedom, everything she fought for was in Sabretooth's hands. Her breath caught in her throat as she slowly turned back toward Nightwing. He was still breathing, but the blood loss was substantial, and he was weakening fast.

He could die. All because of her.

Her mind raced, but in that moment, Sabretooth's grip on her was undeniable. The weight of her choices crashed down on her again, and she realized—she had no choice. Not if she wanted to keep her mother safe. Not if she wanted to protect the few people who still believed in her. Sylvia's gaze dropped to her bloodied claws. She felt her stomach turn, her body trembling with the effort it took to suppress the urge to vomit. She met Nightwing's eyes one last time—an apology, a plea, a promise she would never utter aloud. And then, with a shaking hand, she slowly brought her claws to her mouth. Nightwing's eyes widened in horror as she did the unthinkable. He tried to call out to her, but the blood was already pooling in his throat, and the world around him started to dim. "No," he rasped, his voice filled with disbelief. "Sylvia... don't—"

But she didn't listen. Her tongue ran across the sharp edges of her claws, her mind clouded with the need to comply, to keep the deal intact, to protect the ones she loved. Her heart twisted with every pass, but she couldn't stop. Sabretooth was watching, his cold eyes never leaving her. "Good girl," he purred, watching with twisted satisfaction. "You're starting to understand. This is what you are—what you've always been. And it's time you stop pretending to be anything else." Sylvia's breath hitched as she finished, the taste of blood bitter on her tongue. She fought the urge to gag, but her thoughts were clouded. She could still feel Nightwing's gaze burning into her, the weight of his disappointment heavier than anything Sabretooth could ever impose.

Sabretooth stepped forward, his figure looming over her. With a grin that dripped with cruelty, he grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her into a hug. It was no embrace of affection, but a twisted display of dominance, an assertion of control. His massive frame towered over her as he pressed her into his chest, the gesture suffocating and cold.
Sylvia went rigid in his arms, her entire body frozen in the grip of dread. The moment she had feared had come, the one where she was no longer the person she had once been. The light in her eyes, the faint flicker of defiance that had once burned bright, dimmed in that moment. Sabretooth's hold over her was now complete.
Nightwing, barely able to keep his eyes open through the blood loss, saw it. The light in her eyes dimmed, snuffed out by Sabretooth's suffocating presence. He couldn't even form the words to reach her, his voice lost in the pain and the fear for what she was becoming. He could only watch, helpless, as the girl he thought he could save was swallowed by darkness.

Sabretooth chuckled darkly, rubbing his hand over her hair, his fingers threading through her blood-soaked locks. "See? You're mine now. And nothing's going to change that."
Sylvia's body tensed, but there was no fire left in her. The fight was gone. All that remained was a hollow shell of the person she used to be.
Sabretooth leaned in, his voice a low growl in her ear. "You did well, daughter. But this? This is just the beginning. We've only just started."
And in that moment, Sylvia knew one thing for certain: She was no longer free.