I Became the Villain Alpha's Omega (BL)

Cherion didn’t even wait for Cassian to finish whatever smug retort was forming in his throat. The second Zarius double-folded over his own stomach, clutching his temples with a muffled groan, Cherion’s hands were already on him, catching his weight before his knees could slap the marble floor.

"Zarius!"

The Grand Salon instantly turned into a stirred hornets’ nest. Nobles shuffled backward with collective gasps, velvet skirts rustling frantically against the floor. Cassian took a quick, dramatic half-step back.

Having only stepped into the Grand Salon a few minutes prior, the group had been keeping a small distance to let Cherion and Zarius navigate the nobles, but the moment the quiet shattered, the crowd parted in a flurry of movement. Marielle froze, her face instantly draining of color as her worry took over, and she immediately rushed past a group of startled nobles toward them.

Flio and Elios didn’t hesitate for a second, both broke from their spot near the window arches and closed the distance in a flash. A few steps back, Ezek rested a heavy, warning hand on the hilt of his sidearm, his eyes locked onto Cassian with a lethal glare, while Reinerstood firmly at his side, his arm subtly poised to keep any approaching guards from taking another step.

"Is it... is it the poison?" someone shrieked from the back of the crowd.

"Step back! All of you, step back!" Derrick bellowed, his loud voice cutting through the rising panic as he moved to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Cherion.

"Zarius!" Marielle gasped, her hands hovering near his arm with frantic concern. "What happened? Is it..."

"He’s fine. Just give us space," Cherion snapped, his tone sharper than anyone was used to hearing. He slipped his arm firmly around Zarius’s waist, hauling the larger man upright.

"I’m... fine," Zarius grunted through grit teeth, forcing his head up. His voice sounded like dry gravel grinding together, but his eyes, though slightly unfocused, were clear enough to register the sea of wide, staring faces around them. "Just a... heavy spell of dizzy..."

"Shut up," Cherion muttered under his breath, taking the bulk of Zarius’s weight. "You’re not fine."

Cassian, regaining his footing after the initial shock, puffed out his chest and stepped forward, pointing an accusing finger. "If Duke Zarius is carrying whatever affliction struck Princess Iryna, he cannot be allowed to wander the halls! Guards, we need a isolation room..."

"Touch him and see what happens," Cherion warned, His voice lost every trace of warmth, and Cassian thought better of finishing his sentence. Cherion didn’t even look at the guards stepping forward nervously. He looked right at Derrick. "I’m taking him back to our quarters."

"Do you need help carrying him?" Derrick offered immediately, taking a step forward. "I can..."

"No," Cherion cut him off smoothly, keeping his grip locked tight on Zarius’s side. "I can take care of him."

Cherion spared a quick look toward Marielle, Flio, and Elios. Their eyes met for only a heartbeat, but it was enough. They understood exactly what he was trying to say without a single word, that he needed to get Zarius somewhere private before he could use his healing power. Without waiting for anyone to stop him, Cherion hauled Zarius toward the doors, leaving the Grand Salon to erupt into confused whispers and startled looks.

The heavy doors swung shut behind them, muffling the voices from the Grand Salon almost instantly. The corridor beyond was quiet by comparison. Guards along the walls straightened as the two Solaric nobles hurried past, their surprise obvious, but they wisely kept their distance.

Cherion kept his arm locked firmly around Zarius’s back, while Zarius’s heavy arm slung over Cherion’s shoulder, his fingers digging tight into Cherion’s waist for leverage.

Inside Cherion’s head, thoughts were racing at a hundred miles an hour, every single one of them sour.

Is it that damn curse acting up again? Cherion thought, his jaw clenching hard as they navigated a turn toward the central wing. No... that doesn’t make any sense. Zarius was completely fine this morning. The curse symptoms always show up the minute morning comes.

Which meant this wasn’t natural.

Cherion felt a spike of genuine, white-hot fury flare up in his chest. It has to be one of those bastard nobles back there. Or someone else in this cursed palace. They saw Zarius walking around, decided the first attack wasn’t enough, and shoved another wave of dark magic or hidden spellcraft at him.

Unbelievable. What the hell?

He had already had a bad feeling in his gut since last night. He had thought taking the time to hold Zarius close, transferring his healing energy slowly while they rested, would be enough to keep whatever was affecting him at bay.

"Keep moving," Cherion murmured softly, adjusting his grip so Zarius wouldn’t slip. "We’re almost there."

Zarius let out a low, heavy breath that felt like scalding steam against Cherion’s neck. "Cherion... stop."

"I’m not stopping," Cherion grumbled, his pace never slowing despite supporting most of Zarius’s weight. "If you think I’m going to let you collapse in the middle of an enemy hallway so Cassian can write a gossip about it, you’re out of your mind."

"I’m not collapsing," Zarius said. He actually slowed his feet down, forcing Cherion to bring them both to a halt right in the middle of a secluded archway, away from the guard posts.

Zarius leaned his back slightly against the pillar, though he kept his arm wrapped firmly around Cherion’s waist, refusing to let go. His chest was heaving, his eyes heavy and dark as he looked down at Cherion’s frustrated face.

"You don’t need to panic like this," Zarius said softly, his voice lower now. "It’s passing. I’m telling you, it’s fine."

"Don’t do that," Cherion said, glaring up at him. "Don’t try to play it down just because we were standing in front of a bunch of gossiping lords. If you’re feeling sick, you tell me!"

Zarius stared at him for a long, quiet second. The intense heat coming off his body was almost dizzying, but his eyes were completely fixed on Cherion, taking in the furrow of his brow, the quick rise and fall of his chest, and the plain worry written across his face.

A tired little laugh escaped Zarius before he could stop it. "You worry too much."

"Of course I’m worried!" Cherion snapped, throwing his free hand up slightly before dropping it back onto Zarius’s shoulder. "I know everything is going to be fine, but seeing you groan like you’re being torn apart isn’t exactly easy to watch, alright? So just shut up and let me..."

Zarius didn’t let him finish.

He pulled Cherion in by the waist, closing the tiny gap between them, and leaned down, pressing his mouth directly over Cherion’s.

It wasn’t a gentle, polite kiss. Zarius’s hand cupped the back of Cherion’s neck, fingers tangling tight into his hair to hold him steady against the cold stone pillar, while his mouth came down with a desperate, heavy hunger. Zarius sucked greedily at Cherion’s lower lip, drawing a breathy gasp out of him, only to slip past his teeth the second Cherion’s lips parted.

When Zarius finally bit down softly on Cherion’s lip before pulling back just an inch, his forehead resting heavily against Cherion’s, Cherion stood there flushed, his chest heaving, his hands still trembling as they touched Zarius’s chest.

When Zarius finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against Cherion’s. His breathing came in short, ragged hitches, his eyes clouded with something far deeper, and far more dangerous, than simple exhaustion or a lingering curse.

Cherion blinked, his lips slightly flushed, his brain still trying to catch up with what had just happened in a wide-open hallway.

"Okay," Cherion whispered. "I guess we just do it right here and right now."

He hooked a finger into Zarius’s collar, gave it a sharp tug, and hauled him right back down into another deep, devouring kiss.

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