Felix's heart shatters at those words. He leans forward, resting his forehead against Jake's—trying to anchor him with touch.
"You're not crazy," he whispers. "You're going to be alright. You just have to fight it."
Jake closes his eyes—struggling to breathe steadily. It's almost impossible to focus—but he clings to Felix's voice like a lifeline.
"I don't…. don't think I can," he moans. "It's too strong…. It's like my body's *on fire…."*
Felix's breath catches at the raw pain in Jake's voice. Hearing him like this, in *agony* because of the drug…
It makes Felix's heart ache.
"You can," he whispers urgently. "You can do it. *Please.* For me."
Jake moans again, body shaking. The drug is a living *beast* inside him. Every instinct screams at him to *take* and *claim.* But Jake grits his teeth—fighting with every ounce of willpower he has left—and whispers:
"I'm trying…"
A shaky breath escapes Felix as relief floods through him—quickly followed by *determination.*
"Good," he whispers. "That's good. Just keep fighting, alright?"
Jake nods slowly, eyes still shut. He can still hear that dark, feral voice in the back of his mind, urging him forward—but he blocks it out, clinging to Felix's words instead.
"Keep talking to me," he gasps. "Please. I need your voice…."
Felix nods, hands still cradling Jake's face.
"I'm right here," he whispers softly. "I'm not going anywhere. Just listen to my voice, alright?"
Jake nods again, struggling to focus on Felix—trying to block out the drug that's still raging through him.
"I'm here," Felix repeats quietly. "You're not alone. You can do this."
The sound of his voice is like a soothing balm—helping to keep the beast at bay. Jake's breath begins to steady—slowly, *painfully.*
Every second is agony. Jake wants to move—to *pounce* and *claim* and *take*—but he forces himself to hold still, forcing his mind to *fight* the drug coursing through him.
"That's it," Felix whispers, stroking his fingers through Jake's hair. "That's it. You're doing so well."
Jake takes a ragged breath through clenched teeth, trying to focus on the sound of Felix's voice.
"Talk to me," he gasps again. "Please. Distract me…"
"Remember our kiss?" Felix says softly, his voice like a lifeline. "In the garden, behind the hedges? It was raining. You got water all over my uniform."
A faint smile touches Jake's lips—weak, but *real.*
"Yeah," he murmurs between breaths. "You were... so nervous. Like I'd bite you."
"You did!" Felix lets out a shaky laugh—half-sob, half-relief. "Little nip on my lip! I yelped and dropped my teacup right in the mud."
Jake chuckles weakly—and for one fragile second, he feels like himself again.
**"Worth it,"** he growls—not with lust this time, but with love.
Felix leans in close again.
"And that night at the ball… when you knelt?" His voice drops to a whisper. "I still can't believe it was real."
Jake opens his eyes slowly—cloudy at first… then clearing just enough to see *him.*
Only him.
"I meant every word," Jake rasps.
Another wave of heat surges through him—he grits his teeth—but holds on.
"Don't leave me."
Felix grips his hand tighter—their fingers locking together like fate refusing to be undone.
"I won't," he swears into the firelight shadows of pain and poison and love fighting back—
**"I'll never let go."**
Jake trembles under the weight of the drug, another wave crashing through him like fire in his veins. But this time, he doesn't look away from Felix.
"Stay with me," he gasps. "Even if I… even if I lose it again."
Felix's jaw tightens—his eyes glistening but fierce.
"Then I'll pull you back," he says flatly. "Every time. A hundred times. A thousand." He leans in until their foreheads touch again—soft, steady, *unbreakable.*
"You're not alone in this fight."
Outside, thunder rumbles—distant at first… then rolling closer.
A storm is coming.
But inside?
Two hearts beat as one—refusing to be torn apart by poison or pride or power plays of courtly snakes.
And then—
Jake's body tenses once more… a low growl building deep in his chest…
But instead of lunging—he reaches up and grabs Felix's wrist—not to push him away…
To *pull him close.*
"Don't let me hurt you," he chokes out—the last thread of his control fraying fast.
Felix holds firm—and whispers against trembling lips:
**"Then don't."**
The storm breaks overhead with a crack of lightning—
And somewhere far beyond the garden walls…
Mika watches from the shadows—clutching a vial labeled **"Phase Two."**
His smile is slow and sharp as glass:
**"Next time will be different I swear."**
Mika disappears into the storm, cloak billowing behind him. But in his mind, he's already planning.
The first dose failed. The second will be stronger—more potent. He'll have to be cleverer next time… more subtle.
He won't make the same mistake twice.
But inside the palace—sheltered from thunder and treachery alike—
Felix helps Jake to his feet, supporting his weight as guards rush in on orders given hours before—medics following close behind with neutralizers and restraints just in case.
Jake stumbles but doesn't fall—not while Felix is holding him up.
"I hate this," Jake grits out through clenched teeth. "Hate that he did this... hate that you saw me like *this.*"
Felix squeezes his hand tighter—voice fierce despite the fear still shaking beneath it:
**"You fought for us."**
Another flash of lightning lights up the hallway—and for a split second, their shadows stretch long against the wall…
Two figures fused into one—a king and a commoner standing as equals against darkness closing in from all sides.
And though Mika's plot thickens beyond sight…
One truth remains unbroken:
**They will not lose each other without a war.**
Days crawl by in a haze of medicine, medics, and neutralizers. The drug leaves Jake exhausted—not to mention humiliated at being too vulnerable. But each night, Felix is there—holding him, reassuring him, *loving* him.
And through the haze of fever, he never lets those truths go unsaid.
"I'm here," he murmurs one evening, running soothing fingers through Jake's hair. "We are *okay.* You fought it back."
Jake closes his eyes, leaning into the touch.
"I *nearly* didn't," he whispers.
"But you *did,*" Felix cuts in firmly, tilting Jake's chin up so their eyes meet. "You didn't touch him. You didn't say his name. You fought for *me.*"
Jake swallows hard—his throat tight.
"What if next time I can't?" he whispers, raw fear slipping through. "What if... I hurt you?"
Felix leans in until their foreheads touch—soft, grounding.
"Then I'll fight back," he says, voice quiet but unbreakable. "*With* you. Not against you."
A beat of silence.
Then—slowly—a shaky breath escapes Jake… followed by the faintest nod.
Outside the window, dawn bleeds across the sky—pale gold over storm-washed stone.
And somewhere deep within the castle?
Mika watches from a hidden corridor… vial in hand… a cold smile curling his lips:
**"Phase Two begins tonight."**
Mika disappears back into the shadows—mind working at a calculated pace. The second dose will be stronger, he decided. More *potent.* But he wants the drug to take effect *quickly.* That way, the king will be caught off-guard—and the chaos will already be underway before anyone can take countermeasures.
It's a risky move—a dangerous dance with fate. But Mika's never been the type to back down.
So that evening, as darkness falls over the castle and storm clouds gather again—
He sets his plan into motion.
Mika moves through the castle like a ghost—quiet, stealthy, silent as a shadow. The staff is already settling down for the night, servants retiring to their quarters and guards taking up positions for the night watch. Mika keeps to the shadows, avoiding the main corridors and taking secret shortcuts until he reaches the royal quarters.
He smiles—and slips through the door to the royal kitchen.
The kitchen is all but empty—only a few late-working servants and a sleepy-eyed medic still lingering around. Mika waits until the room is empty to slip inside—and then he makes his way to the cupboards.
There, hidden among the spices and cooking supplies, he finds what he's looking for: a plain bag labeled **"Phase Two."**
He takes the bag, checking the inside. Satisfied with its contents, he slips it into his cloak and creeps back to the door with a final glance behind.
So far, so *easy.*
As midnight draws closer, the castle settles into silence. Guards pace the main corridors, lanterns in hand and swords on their hips. But the royal quarters remain undisturbed—the king's bedroom door still shut against the night.
Mika makes his way quietly through the castle, avoiding the main corridors and sticking to the shadows. He moves quickly and silently—a ghost slipping through the halls with a single goal in mind.
Finally, he reaches the door to Jake's bedroom… and lets himself inside.
Jake's bedroom is dark, the curtains drawn tightly against the storm. Moonlight slips through—casting long shadows across the floor.
Jake sleeps on his back, eyes closed and breathing steady. He looks almost angelic in the pale light—untouched by the troubles of the world.
Mika takes a half-step forward, then stops.
He's never seen the prince look so defenseless. So *human.* It almost makes him hesitate.
Mika shakes himself—reminding himself that this is for the greater good. No matter what happens after, he's doing what's best for the kingdom. Anything else doesn't matter.
With soft, measured steps, he crosses the room to the bedside and looks down at the sleeping king.
Jake's eyes flutter in his sleep, his dreams troubled by shadows. Mika watches him—almost mesmerized—until he snaps himself out of it and reaches into his cloak.
Carefully, he pulls out the bag of powder.
Mika carefully reaches for a pitcher of water sitting on the bedside table. It's just water—nothing unusual. But even the king needs some hydration to wash up and take his evening medications.
Mika pours some water, adding a few spoonfuls of the powder to the water without a second thought. He uses a spoon to stir it together—watching as the powder fully dissolves into the clear liquid.
He then sets the bottle back down and reaches into his cloak again—
And pulls out a single teacup.
Mika dips the cup into the water and lifts it out carefully—his hand steady as he brings it to the king's lips.
Jake remains asleep, the rise and fall of his chest unchanging as Mika slowly tips some of the water into his mouth.
For a moment, there's no reaction.
But then—
Jake's throat bobs as he swallows, eyes still closed as the drug begins to take effect.
Mika sets the cup back down, watching carefully. A few seconds pass… and then Jake's brow twitches. A faint frown creases his face, his expression twisting into a grimace of discomfort.
But he doesn't wake—not yet.
Mika smiles to himself—his patience finally starting to pay off.
He waits and watches without a sound.
After a while, Jake's nose begins to scrunch, as if he's smelling something unpleasant.
A low groan escapes his mouth, his eyes flickering behind his closed eyelids. His body begins to tense, sweat beading on his forehead—the drug's effects taking hold.
Mika waits.
Jake's breath comes faster now—uneven. His fingers twitch against the sheets, then clench into fists. A shudder runs through him as the fever begins to rise.
"Nngh… no…" he mumbles in his sleep—voice thick and strained. "Not again…"
Mika leans closer, eyes gleaming in the dim light.
*Yes,* he thinks.
It's working perfectly.
He takes a step back into the shadows just as Jake jerks awake with a gasp—
eyes wide, wild, and already glazing over with heat.
**"F-Felix…?"** Jake chokes out—but his voice is raw, wrong—not right at all.
Outside in the hall?
A guard passes by—oblivious to what's unfolding behind closed doors…
And deep within the castle?
Felix stirs in his bed—his Omega senses tingling…
Something is very wrong.