Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Things had been strange lately.

Jayce had been acting different — distant, evasive, carrying something in his eyes Viktor couldn’t name. And maybe that was the point. They weren’t as close as they used to be. Jayce was too busy, buried under his responsibilities as a councilor. The man of progress. The alpha who had fallen into the good graces of another perfect alpha. The rumors about Jayce and Mel weren’t supposed to bother him, but they did.

No time for the lab — the place that had once been home to them both.

No time for Viktor.

There was a time when Viktor wouldn’t have doubted. He had known, with all certainty, that if anyone could understand him, it would be Jayce. Together, they’d built a dream. More than that: they had made Hextech real, made the unthinkable possible.

But now?

Now he sat on a bench in the middle of chaos. Waiting to be allowed back into the lab, surrounded by a crowd screaming for justice. Officers marched in, aggressive, ready to impose order. In the middle of it all, Viktor could only hope that Jayce would understand him. That he would understand the need to accept shimmer, and what Viktor was willing to do to himself — clinging to any hope he could, just to live a little longer.

He lowered his gaze to the cane — a gift from Jayce. The carved details, the Talis house colors embedded like a signature. So typical of an alpha to leave his mark, to dress Viktor in it. A gesture of care, yes, but also of possession. Of protection and dominance over the crippled beta.

There was a time when he would have blushed at the thought. Of being the recipient of that care, that desire.

Now, he wasn’t sure what to feel.

Jayce approached, clearly holding himself back.

“Jayce…” Viktor called, voice low, careful, trying not to draw more attention amid the confusion. “What is this?”

“Do you have any idea what this looks like?” Jayce was angry. Disapproval thick in the air, as dense as his alpha scent — and yet he tried to hold back. “I ordered a lockdown, and my only partner violated it!”

“You… ordered this?” Viktor looked up, and Jayce looked away, as if for a moment he felt ashamed. “Why?”

“There are people down there determined to destroy us! What were you doing?”

“I was just consulting a friend. I told you I knew someone!” Viktor tried to defend himself, confused. Jayce wasn’t usually like this.

“You didn’t tell me he was from the undercity,” Jayce hissed, almost like a strangled yell.

“What difference does that make?” Viktor’s stomach turned. He hoped his suspicion was wrong…

“What difference?! They’re dangerous!”

Unbelievable.

“I’m from the undercity,” Viktor stood.

The worst scenario was unfolding.

Jayce didn’t understand him.

Maybe he never had.

When the alpha’s hand landed on his shoulder, Viktor pushed it away, firmly.

A silent warning, he didn’t want that touch. Didn’t want the scent of an alpha clinging to his skin.

“I’m sorry, Viktor. There’s too much going on in my head… I shouldn’t have reacted like that,” Jayce said more calmly, trying once again for physical contact. “Did your friend help?”

“No. He can’t do anything.”

Viktor lied. It was easier that way.

Easier to pretend that whatever had existed between them was already gone.

This time, he allowed the touch — not for the present, but for the past they had shared.

Then a small explosion interrupted them. A spark from the crowd. Smoke rose, screams echoed. Jayce instinctively reached for Viktor’s shoulder. His gaze serious, dark.

“We’re getting you out of here,” he said, more to himself than to Viktor. “We’re taking you somewhere safe.”

Viktor wanted to pull back, but there wasn’t time.

The smoke, the dust, whatever was in that bomb… it filled his lungs. A violent cough overtook him. His frail body protested, legs weakening. He was about to fall.

He noticed Jayce speaking, but the words were lost.

Before he realized it, he was being lifted — strong arms wrapped around him with determination.

He tried to turn his face away, not wanting to cough on Jayce, but the alpha held him firmly, shielding him while shouting orders and pulling them away from the chaos.

A part of Viktor felt guilty for lying. For hiding what he still intended to do.

But another part — a deeper part — feared what might happen if he didn’t act soon.

He wished Jayce had never entered politics.

Wished he was still there as his partner.

His alpha.

Helping him search for a cure for himself and a solution for the world’s problems.

He had always been too much of a dreamer for a scientist from the undercity, whose short lifespan had long since been sealed.

All he could do was hope…

Too much had happened.

The future was a disaster. Madness.

A slow-spreading destruction, like rust eating away at everything that had once been… Piltover.

And all of it — all that ruin — was their fault.

Both of them.

Jayce had too much time to think, isolated in the ravine.

Too much time to watch the world fade, color by color, sound by sound, until silence became a scream and guilt the only remaining voice inside him.

He was no longer the alpha he once was.

Sometimes, not even a man.

Only the animal inside him remained, struggling to survive, to maintain control.

He was a survivor of broken realities.

A castaway from worlds that should never have existed.

And he had made too many mistakes with the man he loved.

Viktor.

The name hurt every time he thought it.

As if each syllable were a thorn buried deep in the flesh of memory.

“I can’t destroy Hextech. Please, do it. We’re lost.”

“I thought I was doing the right thing… why do you persist after everything I did?”

Because I love you — and that sparked something inside him, small and stubborn, that refused to go out.

He could still fix this.

After a long conversation — in a reality where flower fields stretched under a false sense of peace, where stars no longer rose — the mage version of Viktor, older, the one who had once saved him from dying in the cold as a child and now had almost nothing left, looked at him with eyes full of exhaustion and said:

“You know what you have to do. Destroy the machine. Destroy me, if necessary. Fulfill the promise you made to me years ago.”

Jayce wanted to scream.

He wanted to rip his throat out for even considering that option.

He had lost Viktor too many times.

He had seen him die with dignity, with anger, with love.

He had seen him vanish in flames, dissolve in the blue glow of Hextech, or be erased from existence as if he’d never been real.

No more.

He wasn’t going to do it again.

Not this time.

That’s when he understood:

The mistake wasn’t in the end — it was in the beginning.

And he could rewrite that beginning.

When they talked a few days after the bridge attack. That would be enough to fix things.

Through the ruins, across the shattered fragments of worlds Hextech had pierced, Jayce gathered the data, the energy, the formulas.

He observed universes where they were monsters, heroes, martyrs.

In one of them, Viktor had almost been saved.

Almost.

But in that timeline, Viktor had chosen to die with dignity.

And Jayce couldn’t accept that.

He couldn’t accept losing Viktor even when everything had almost gone right.

So he built one last device.

A hybrid of time and consciousness, of soul and calculation.

It wasn’t just a time machine — it was an occupation.

He would use Hextech to invade himself.

He would steal the body of his younger self, from before everything fell apart.

Before Viktor fused his body to the creation.

Before he chose the arcane.

It would be the same body, but with a different soul inside:

An exhausted soul, bloodied, filled with loss.

He knew the cost.

Knew that by doing this, he would destroy the future he came from.

Annihilate it with the same coldness Hextech used to devour parallel worlds.

And he also knew what would happen to his younger self:

He would be cast into the margins of existence, into a condemned reality.

To die.

Jayce paused for a second, thinking about the injustice of it.

Then he thought about the cowardice of that young man —

So full of potential, yet unable to say how he truly felt to Viktor.

Unable to hold him when there was still time.

He hadn’t had the decency to claim Viktor.

Hadn’t loved him the way he should have.

Hadn’t protected him as promised.

Had let him get lost alone.

And now they were both paying the price.

Well.

None of that mattered anymore.

He was here.

Again.

And he was going to fix it.

He took a deep breath in the newly-occupied body.

The lab’s scent — ozone, hot metal, the faint sweet milk aroma Viktor gave off during overnight shifts — was strange and intimate at once.

The body was lighter, the fingers still steady, without the scars of battle and despair.

But the heart… the heart still beat as if fleeing the end.

Jayce opened his eyes.

The light of the past sliced through the windows.

And for the first time in years, there was enough air to breathe.

He wasn’t going to lose him.

Ximena had known something was wrong with her son for a long time.

The look in his eyes… the way he acted.

He wasn’t her son anymore — not completely. Something in him had broken — or been replaced. But the man who walked through the door of House Talis that morning was something beyond wrong.

He still carried Jayce’s appearance, the same features she’d known since he was a baby. But the gentle, protective, affectionate alpha… had been taken.

Replaced.

What stood there now had a hardened gaze, tense shoulders, movements too controlled to be natural.

That was his id alpha. Pure instinct, fear, survival.

Something had happened. Probably politics. Everything falling on the alpha hero of progress.

Jayce didn’t go to the lab anymore — to that dream of taming magic.

Or maybe… maybe he knew what had happened to Viktor.

“Son?” Her voice came out soft, testing. “Did something happen?”

He turned to her.

For a brief, minuscule instant, she saw something — a flicker of pain, of panic — before he forced softness into his expression.

“Mom… I’m sorry, I…” a sigh escaped, and then he rushed toward her. “I…”

“Come here,” she said, opening her arms.

Jayce fell into them like a man drowning. He breathed in deeply.

Her scent was home, childhood, rainy afternoons, a kitchen filled with spices.

It was safety.

But it wasn’t enough.

Nothing was enough without Viktor.

Viktor.

Viktor.

Viktor.

“It’s alright now,” Ximena said, stroking his hair.

“It’s not…” he pulled away with effort. “But I’ll make it right.”

“Stay and rest a while,” she asked, noticing his feverish eyes. “Work can wait.”

“I can’t. Not yet. I need to talk to Viktor, but… he wasn’t in the lab.”

There was silence. A careful pause before the truth.

“He was hospitalized recently,” she finally said. “I sent for you. Sky came by and said she tried to leave a message, but it seems it didn’t reach you.”

“What?” His gaze froze, his voice faltered. “When did this happen?!”

The scent of an alpha in panic filled the room like a dense gas.

“Calm down,” Ximena tried to touch his shoulder, as if stability could be transferred through contact. “Sky found him in the lab. Said Viktor tried to use some compound on himself. It seems it went wrong. He was unconscious, but… he’s stable now. He’s alright.”

“This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

The words slipped from Jayce’s lips like a miscalculation.

“This didn’t happen before.”

Ximena frowned but didn’t ask. She had learned that some questions only hurt more.

“Jayce?”

He was mumbling, more to himself than to her.

“This is just a small divergence in the past. Everything’s still under control. Probably something I forgot happened.”

“Son…”

“I’m sorry. I need to go to him. I’ll check on Viktor. And… if possible, bring him home.”

Ximena watched him, hesitant but tender.

“You love him, don’t you?”

Jayce stopped. Breathed in like he was forcing himself to go on.

“If all of this is to give him peace… you should be by his side.”

“You’re right, mamá.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Thank you for telling me. It’s going to be alright. I’m finally going to bring my Viktor home.”

She watched him leave like a storm sealed in a cracked bottle.

Obsessive, she thought. Her son was losing his mind.

But she was his mother. She would never fear him.

She could only wait. And pray.

If that beta could bring her son back — then so be it.

She would accept anything at this point.

He ran through the corridors as if fleeing a reality he refused to accept.

Each step echoed against the cold metal of the facility until he finally reached the medical wing.

And there he was. Viktor.

Lying down. Thin. Pale. Tubes attached to his nose.

Exactly like that first time — when he had collapsed in the lab.

But there was a difference.

Sky was with him.

Jayce froze in the doorway, and jealousy hit him with physical force.

Sky was gently stroking Viktor’s unconscious face.

Her omega scent filled the air — roses, candied peanuts, gentle warmth. Presence.

You are cared for. I’m here.

The message was clear.

Almost offensive.

How dare she?

After everything. After multiverses, after torn memories, after a conversation on the astral plane — she dared to make herself necessary.

She dared to take his place.

“Jayce? Oh! I’m glad you came,” Sky turned, surprised. “Viktor asked me not to call you… said you’d be busy. But I thought it was important you were here too.”

“Thank you for taking care of my partner while I was away,” he said, each word honed like a sheathed knife. “I’ve been very busy lately, and unfortunately, my partner was left vulnerable. But that won’t happen again.”

He stepped forward, subtle but firm.

He wanted to hiss: Leave.

“If you’d like, you can go rest. I’ll be happy to take care of Viktor. I just thought it was important to let you know. Viktor told me the Council’s been demanding a lot from you lately.”

He wanted to scream.

Leave. Intruder. Don’t touch what’s mine.

But he kept his tone polite. Just polished enough to sound normal.

“I… I’d like to wait until Viktor wakes up, Mr. Talis.” Her hesitation was palpable. “I’m not here out of obligation. I’m here because I care about Viktor.”

She adjusted her glasses, maybe to hide a blush, maybe to avoid meeting Jayce’s eyes.

“I would like to stay with Viktor for now.” His voice remained neutral, clinical. “Two distinct scents can make the atmosphere heavy. Even as a beta, Viktor has always been sensitive to smells. He’s in a vulnerable state… he needs calm. It would be better if you rested.”

A pause.

Then, gentler — but definitive:

“You can come back later. I’ll make sure someone notifies you as soon as he wakes up.”

“Oh… okay.” Sky stepped back, flustered. “But… please call me? I want to be here when he wakes up. I… I know you’ll probably have to leave… and I don’t want him to think he’s alone.”

She almost said what truly burned in her throat: You weren’t there when he collapsed. I was. I took care of him.

But she swallowed it all in silence.

“I will notify you.” Jayce stepped aside, opening space. “Now, if you could…”

Sky hesitated for a moment, looking at Viktor as if offering silent apologies. Then, she left.

Jayce was alone in the room. Her footsteps faded down the hall.

Only then did he allow himself to breathe deeply.

He approached the bed. Sat beside it. Took Viktor’s cold hand in both of his, like someone holding something that could disappear.

His face lost all hardness.

His body slumped, exhausted.

“You’re not going to leave me. Not again.”

He said it low, like a promise or a plea.

“I don’t care how many realities I have to break. I don’t care who I have to push aside.”

He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to Viktor’s hand.

“I brought you back.

And now… I’m going to make everything right.”

Chapter Text

Viktor’s head was throbbing. Opening his eyes proved to be a challenge: his body ached, protested, and the gentle light streaming through the window felt far too intense. A familiar warmth touched his hand — a gentle caress. Viktor recognized the scent he had longed for so much, and he assumed it was just a delusion, a trick of his mind after the events of the previous day.

“Viktor?”

Jayce’s muffled voice seemed to come from far away, as if Viktor’s consciousness was still swimming in the depths of unconsciousness.

“Jayce?” His voice sounded strange — hoarse and weak. The name escaped more like a choke than a word.

“Oh, thank Janna! You’re awake! Please, don’t strain yourself.”

There was movement beside him. The warmth in his hand deepened as Jayce gently squeezed it. He leaned in, drawing closer, his large fingers still covering Viktor’s. His scent — once comforting — now carried a bitter note of anguish, but it softened and became soothing as he settled by the bedside. A stark contrast to the scent he had given off lately, ever since the Hextech exploded among Piltover’s elite and Jayce became the man of progress.

The effect of his pheromones, likely due to being an alpha, still had some impact on a beta like Viktor — much subtler than it would on an omega, true, but enough to convey safety and presence. Even though the influence of alpha and omega pheromones wasn’t the same for betas, who were somewhere in the neutral middle ground, there was still a degree of influence and comfort in their scent.

A violent cough shook his already frail body. His awareness finally settled fully into place. Viktor remembered the moments before everything went wrong — the desperate attempt to inject shimmer into himself, the collapse, the world spinning, the Hextech pulsing in front of him, rejecting the process as it had in his previous attempts… and then Sky, arriving just in time to prevent a tragedy.

A flush of shame rose to his pale face. Still coughing, he let the weight of the moment wash over him, eyes brimming with tears — whether from the coughing or the sudden rush pressing against his mind.

“Hey… look at me. Breathe.”

Jayce’s hand stroked his hair gently. Viktor tried to control the coughing, inhaling with difficulty. The soft touch grounded him.

“What… what are you doing here?”

He hadn’t meant to sound harsh, but the surprise was impossible to hide. Honestly, he hadn’t expected Jayce to even know he’d been hospitalized. He had asked Sky not to notify him. He didn’t want to be a burden.

“I… well, I came to take care of you.” Jayce hesitated. “I know I’ve been failing you. And failing our project. But… I still care. I’ve been thinking a lot lately, and I think I finally understand: my place was never on the Council. My place is with you. In our lab. In our dream. Looking for a cure, together.”

For a moment, it seemed like he would go on. His scent shifted, betraying a flicker of desperation — but he reined it in quickly.

“Sorry. I don’t want to pressure you. Let’s wait for you to get better, and then we’ll talk. I just… need to understand what was going through your mind when you did this… Never mind. I’m sorry. Let’s focus on the present and the future — how are you feeling?”

Viktor looked at him for a few moments. His exhausted mind couldn’t quite follow all the layers in Jayce’s words.

“I feel like shit.” He closed his eyes. “But you don’t need to apologize. I didn’t want you to worry. I didn’t want to get in the way of your duties on the Council. It’s not like you’re obligated to care about me or my health. Our partnership is about Hextech development, my illness isn’t your responsibility…”

“What? Obligation?” Jayce’s voice sounded hurt. “Viktor, you’re my partner! The least I could do is be by your side! Your illness is my responsibility because I care…”

“Where’s Sky?” Viktor cut him off, abruptly changing the subject and looking away. He scanned the room with his eyes. He remembered seeing her there before he was sedated — her soft presence, her scent, the look of genuine concern. If she hadn’t made it to the lab in time…

“She had to leave.” Jayce’s voice dropped a tone, deep.

“Oh.”

The silence that followed was thick.

“Don’t worry. I’m here. I’ll take care of you.”

Jayce ran his fingers through Viktor’s greasy hair, gently. “I’ll call a nurse to examine you.”

He left the room, leaving Viktor alone with an avalanche of thoughts. He didn’t want to be a burden to anyone. Jayce probably wanted to get back to his duties as soon as possible, and Sky had probably grown tired as well and passed Viktor’s problems onto someone else so she could deal with her own responsibilities. Jayce… was just playing the role of the good friend. Viktor needed to try to seem well again so he could be discharged and deal with his problems without being anyone else’s problem.

He took a deep breath, trying to stay calm.

It’s not like the hospital would do much for a dying beta with an Undercity disease… he already knew there wasn’t much to be done for him. All he could do was wait for release.

Jayce left the room, his heavy footsteps echoing through the hallway as he made his way to the medical wing. He found the doctor in charge of the detox ward and exchanged a few quick words — urgent, tense. The doctor’s expression remained neutral, professional, as he followed Jayce back to the room.

Upon entering, the doctor approached with calm steps, consulting a small chart in his hands. He cast a brief glance at Viktor, who stared back with glazed eyes, his body still weak beneath the sheets.

“Good afternoon, Viktor. I need to check your vitals before we talk, all right?”

Viktor only nodded, too tired to respond. The doctor checked his blood pressure, pupils, and temperature. He asked him to breathe deeply, listened to his lungs, and jotted something down in the chart. Jayce stood silently by the wall, arms crossed, eyes fixed on every movement as if sheer willpower could influence the diagnosis.

When the examination was over, the doctor sighed before speaking. His voice was low, yet direct.

“Viktor will need to undergo a detox process. The shimmer is still circulating in his system. We don’t know exactly what the long-term side effects might be, especially in cases like his.”

He paused briefly, then continued more cautiously:

“As for the pre-existing chronic condition… unfortunately, there’s not much we can do at this stage. The damage is progressive. We can manage the symptoms, but there’s no cure.”

Jayce seemed to deflate beside the bed. The light in his eyes faded entirely as he stared at a spot on the floor. The scent emanating from him was unmistakable — anxiety, frustration, sorrow. A silent plea hung in the air, almost like an unconscious request for the doctor to soften his words.

The man noticed. His gaze grew gentler as it shifted to Jayce.

“It’s important that Viktor stays with someone over the next few days. Constant monitoring, hydration, rest. It’s a delicate time. Maybe more emotional than physical. And I know it’s not easy.”

He closed the chart with a soft snap and headed to the door.

“I wish you both the best of luck.”

He gave Viktor one last understanding look before exiting the room.

Silence settled again, heavier than before. Jayce remained still for a few moments, still staring at the door the doctor had gone through, as if waiting for reality to reverse itself.

Then he took a deep breath, cleared his throat, and turned to Viktor.

“Stay with me.” It sounded more like a command than a request.

“Jayce…”

“Don’t tell me you’re a burden. Don’t do that to me. For my peace of mind. Please, allow me this.” He moved closer to the bed. “For old times.”

Viktor knew he should back away from Jayce… but mentally, he was weak. His plan had failed. It had been doomed from the start, and soon the illness would consume him entirely, and he’d no longer be anyone’s burden.

It was his feelings that had held them together until now, and it would be his feelings that he’d let fool him a little longer. Let himself be cared for, as his body and mind craved. Let himself believe that Jayce still cared, at least a little. Just for this short time.

He’d allow himself that.

“Just… just until the detox is over. After that, I’ll go back to my apartment.”

“That’s all I’m asking.” It probably wasn’t. But that was fine. Viktor would take any crumbs, as always.

A few hours later, they were on their way to House Talis. The carriage rocked gently as the city buildings passed by the foggy window. Jayce held Viktor carefully, as if he were made of glass. His hand moved up and down Viktor’s arm. Earlier, the beta had tried to pull away, but the movement was useless — the alpha had pulled him close with a soft growl that made Viktor roll his eyes before allowing himself to be held. His head rested against the alpha’s shoulder, eyes closing. He was so tired.

When they arrived, the alpha carried him out with ease, ignoring any silent protest Viktor might have had. If Viktor weren’t so weakened, he would’ve certainly refused this kind of treatment — too embarrassed by his current condition.

“Mom, I brought Viktor.” Jayce’s voice carried a palpable sense of relief. He had done what he promised: brought Viktor home. And he wouldn’t let him go again.

Things would be different now.

Jayce would keep him safe. Take care of him. Make sure nothing — not the illness, not the shimmer, not the damned Hextech — touched him again. He had sent a message to his mother while still at the hospital, asking her to prepare a room. He wanted Viktor to feel comfortable, welcomed. She responded promptly; as soon as the messenger left, she quickly prepared the room next to Jayce’s to accommodate her son’s partner.

Ximena was also relieved — and willing to help Jayce ensure Viktor’s recovery. Once again, the thought crossed her mind: perhaps this beta could help bring her son back. She loved Viktor and hoped he would understand their reasons.

Jayce thought about how the doctor had been right. There was no cure. The disease was already too advanced. Viktor’s leg would remain injured, his body frail, his breathing labored. But he wouldn’t wither away anymore. Jayce would find a way. He would create a treatment. Viktor would have quality of life. He would live. He would smile. He would feel loved.

Jayce would fulfill his role as an alpha.

His instinct roared, hungry and satisfied with the idea that now he was providing for his mate. Sheltering, feeding, protecting. A courtship gift, he thought — taking care of Viktor with everything he had. And one day, when everything was right, he’d place Viktor in his bed and make love to him in the gentlest way possible. Viktor’s body, no longer so fragile, would learn to handle Jayce’s. They’d find a way. They were stubborn. They were clever. And afterward, he’d seal everything with his mark. Even as a beta, Viktor would look beautiful with his bite on his neck. Everyone would know to whom he belonged.

He belonged to Jayce.

“Viktor, this will be your room.” Jayce laid him down on the bed, pressing his nose into Viktor’s greasy hair and inhaling deeply. The hospital smell still clung to him, mixed with something warmer — more alive.

“Did you just smell me?” Viktor frowned, eyeing him with suspicion.

“Difficult not to do. It’s instinct.” Jayce shrugged, trying to ignore his own blush. “Do you need anything?”

“Actually… I reek of hospital. Can I take a shower?” Viktor seemed embarrassed. “I’m sure your instincts are offended by my smell right now.”

“Your scent could never bother me, V.” Jayce ran a hand through Viktor’s hair, spreading his own scent — a gesture that made Viktor huff.

“So?”

“So, what?” Jayce was still distracted, his fingers tangled in Viktor’s hair.

“Can I take a shower?”

“Oh! , . I’ll grab some clothes for you and help with whatever you need…”

“I can manage on my own. Did you bring the bag Sky left at the hospital? She picked out some clothes before… you showed up.”

The omega’s name darkened something in Jayce’s eyes, though he hid it well.

“Unfortunately, no.” The lie came easily. A perfect opportunity: Viktor would wear his clothes — another silent claim. “But I’ll stop by your apartment once you’re asleep and bring whatever you need. For now, I can lend you a shirt and some pants…”

“Jayce, your clothes won’t fit me…” Viktor noticed the tension in the alpha’s posture. “Sorry. I’m being picky. Thank you for lending me something.”

“It’s no problem. Do you want help?”

“Actually, I’d like to try on my own. I don’t want to be even more of a…”

“You’re not a burden, Viktor.”

“I just… want to think a bit. Alone.”

Jayce hesitated, his eyes locked on Viktor, before nodding slowly. The silence between them was thick.

When Viktor tried to get up, he noticed the absence of his cane.

“My cane… was it at the hospital?”

“Sorry. No. With all the rush…”

“It’s all right.” Viktor’s voice was low, defeated. “But now I think I’ll need your help after all.”

“I’ll set up a stool in the bathroom and help you.”

Jayce prepared the bathroom and brought a change of clothes — a flannel shirt and loose pants from when he was younger. When he helped Viktor undress, he did his best to keep his gaze respectfully averted, even though his entire body begged to memorize every detail. He wished he could count every freckle on Viktor’s body. Mark and count each one with a kiss, a lick, a bite.

But the moment was delicate. It wasn’t time for that.

While Viktor washed himself, he didn’t notice Jayce’s eyes drifting toward the marks on his ribs, on his legs. Mutilated runes. Scars left by the desperate attempt to save himself.

Jayce felt his stomach churn.

He had failed.

The silence in the bathroom was almost sacred. Jayce respected it. When Viktor finished, the alpha wrapped him in a thick towel, drying his body with exaggerated care, claiming the other might feel cold.

Then he helped him into the old clothes. They were far too big. Viktor looked even more fragile in them. Tiny. Innocent. It stirred something warm inside Jayce.

He went to get dinner. Viktor didn’t eat much — he was clearly drowsy. So Jayce didn’t insist. He took him to the bathroom once more, helped him brush his teeth, then laid him back down in bed.

“You worry too much. I’m not that cold,” Viktor murmured, eyes half-closed.

Jayce didn’t respond. He just kept surrounding him with blankets and pillows, adjusting supports under his legs and back to relieve any muscle tension.

Viktor fell asleep without noticing.

Jayce stayed there for a while, watching his breathing — slow and uneven. Counting the rise and fall of his chest, listening to the low sound that filled the dark room. It soothed the beast inside him.

Later that night, Jayce went to Viktor’s home. He used the reverse key Viktor had given him years ago, a small gesture of trust that had seemed casual at the time — but now proved crucial. He crossed the dark hallway with familiarity, his steps nearly silent, and grabbed some clothes. Nothing much, just enough to avoid suspicion. Old clothes, worn, made of rough fabric. From the Undercity.

He held them with a neutral, but cold expression. Soon, Viktor wouldn’t wear those anymore. He would commission tailored pieces, made with fine fabrics in the colors of House Talis — in tones that would mark him as belonging to his house. Under his protection. Under his care. No one else’s. Never again.

He would wear only the best. Only the best for his mate.

Jayce hesitated before heading to the lab. He didn’t want to see anyone, didn’t want to talk. But it was necessary — he needed to maintain part of his public routine. Go in, retrieve the cane. Be seen. And leave. Just inform that his little companion was well and now under his permanent care.

Only to Viktor would he maintain the façade that the beta was only “temporarily” staying in his home.

Viktor wouldn’t leave again.

He would remain with Jayce. Under his roof. Under his watch. Under his care.

And no one would stop that.

It was late, but the lab light was still on. Luck didn’t seem to be on his side. He took a deep breath, regaining composure. He needed to look like the man everyone expected — stern, impenetrable, rational. The shell the world demanded.

He entered the building with steady steps, nodding briefly to those he passed, and went straight to the research room.

Sky was there. Sitting. Taking notes.

Viktor’s cane rested on her lap, along with scribbled notebooks filled with unfinished formulas. One of her hands gently stroked the cane’s handle, with a care that didn’t go unnoticed by Jayce. It was almost an intimate gesture.

It sparked something dark in his chest.

The Hextech nearby vibrated with an irregular, noisy energy, as if it could feel the tension in the room. For Jayce, that pulsing glow no longer meant inspiration or progress. It was merely the living reminder of an obsession that had cost more than it was worth. Now, its only purpose was to serve Viktor’s treatment.

He let his gaze settle on Sky — cold, silent.

“Miss Young.” His voice cut through the air.

She jumped, the cane falling to the floor with a sharp thud.

“Councilor Talis! Oh Janna, I didn’t notice you.” She placed a hand on her chest, breathing deeply. Her soft perfume filled the room. Was she scenting the cane? The unintentional suggestion made Jayce’s stomach churn.

“I came to get the cane I made for Viktor. Why is it still here?”

Sky blinked, confused.

“Viktor… is he all right? I… I waited for news. No one contacted me. When I returned to the hospital, they said he had already been discharged.”

She stood, but kept her distance. There was something different about Jayce. Something she couldn’t name — but that made her hesitate.

“I’m sorry. Perhaps they made the same mistake trying to notify you. Either way, your care is no longer needed. Viktor will stay with me until he recovers.” His tone was controlled.

“Oh…” She looked away, biting her lower lip. “Wouldn’t that be a burden? I’m sorry, but you’re always so busy. You hardly show up here… How do you plan to care for Viktor with all your responsibilities?”

Jayce narrowed his eyes, jaw clenched.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your concern.”

Sky shrank slightly, but then something inside her solidified. Perhaps it was courage. Or something more primal. Jealousy, maybe.

“Look, don’t get me wrong, Councilor, but I know how much Viktor suffered while you were… involved with Councilor Medarda. He pretended not to feel it, but he was sick. Weak. And I was there. I took care of him. It wasn’t my duty, but I did. Viktor matters to me. And I don’t want him to build up false hopes again.” She took a breath, her face flushed. “I intend to keep taking care of him… until he understands he deserves to be loved. And, once his condition stabilizes, I want to court him.”

Jayce stared in silence.

This couldn’t be happening.

“Absolutely not.” His voice was stone. “Viktor is my partner. He is under my care.” He stepped closer, the air between them heavy. “I’ll guarantee his safety. His healing. Whatever it takes. I may have failed before… but Viktor is still mine.”

“You’d better think carefully about what you say, Miss Young.” Jayce’s eyes were dark as steel. “My word is final. Viktor will stay where I can care for him. And you will not interfere.”

“You’re selfish, Councilor Talis. You have a god complex. Viktor waited for you for years. Years! You never looked at him, but now that someone’s finally willing to love him, to take care of him, you show up and snatch that away? The moment it’s inconvenient for you, you’ll toss him aside again!”

Jayce didn’t respond. Instead, he spoke with his alpha voice — deep, instinctual. A command.

“Leave.”

Sky flinched. Her body obeyed before her mind even caught up. The order was etched in her blood. She went pale, her breathing shallow.

“Viktor is mine. And no one — no one — is going to interfere with that. Not some omega assistant from the Undercity. Think whatever you want. It won’t change anything. Viktor will remain with me. And you… you will not poison his mind with cheap manipulations.”

He stepped even closer, his face just inches from hers.

“I’ll say this only once: stay away from my mate.”

The tension in the room was suffocating. Sky could barely breathe. She was terrified. And more than that — shocked. Jayce was out of control.

“You’re going to walk out of here. You’re going to keep your mouth shut. You won’t try to court him. And you won’t tell anyone about this. Are we clear?”

Sky nodded — a small, submissive gesture.

“Then why are you still here?”

She turned and hurried out, almost tripping as she went.

Jayce remained alone in the room. His chest heaved, heart pounding like a hammer.

Only then did he allow himself to growl — low, primal — as he stepped toward the fallen cane. It was infested with her scent. An insult.

Fine. He would clean it. Purify it before giving it back to Viktor. Before placing it again in the hands that rightfully belonged to him.

He left the lab after gathering everything he needed, footsteps heavy, fists clenched.

No one would take him from Jayce. Not ever again.

It was already past two in the dawn when Jayce finally sat at his desk, in the office of House Talis. The fireplace cast warm shadows over the scattered papers, but the heat didn’t reach the anxious chill in his spine. He took a deep breath and began.

The notebook in front of him already held a few scribbled thoughts. He pulled a clean sheet and wrote at the top:

“Integrated Treatment for Pulmonary and Muscular Degenerative Disease – Project Viktor.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, searching his memory for standard medical protocols — what the university’s healers knew, what he had studied before drowning in politics. Viktor’s condition was serious. Jayce didn’t want to think the word terminal, but it clawed at the edges of his mind.

Respiratory system: compromised. Hemoptysis. Chronic pulmonary failure. Possible fibrosis.

He wrote quickly. Standard treatment was the starting point: rifapentine, isoniazid, ethambutol… but they all required stable liver function. He knew their formulas — from the world he had once visited. Reproducing some elements with what existed here would be difficult. He would need to modify and adapt some compounds for this reality, but that was fine. He could do it.

Viktor was debilitated. Far too thin. His always-pale face now hollow, his eyes sunken. He’d need intense nutritional support — maybe even direct infusion in the first days. Continuous oxygen therapy. Constant liver and kidney monitoring. Risk of lung collapse or opportunistic infection.

Jayce frowned. That wasn’t enough. Even with the heavy-duty antibiotics he could import from Noxus, there was no guarantee Viktor would survive long enough for his immune response to stabilize.

And then there was the other problem.

Progressive degenerative dystrophy. Muscle weakness. Mass loss. Motor instability.

He hesitated as he wrote it down, then crossed it out — he didn’t want to reduce Viktor to a cold statistic. Still, the progression fit. Muscle cell collapse had accelerated in recent months. His movements were slower, his strength was failing — even his breathing suffered with the weakening of his thoracic muscles.

Jayce pulled another sheet, this time filled with magical annotations and hextech diagrams. He hesitated before lighting the magical stone he’d use to activate the energy trace. The rune glowed — blue and pulsing — beside a vial of crystalline particles that tinkled softly in the light.

He had studied the principles behind Elevidys — the genetic pill for muscle regeneration. In a world without magic, it was a genetic miracle crafted with viral vectors. Here, he would have to reconstruct it using hextech flow. Something that could synchronize with Viktor’s muscle cells, reinforcing their structure without overloading his immune system.

His project: Low-Load Muscular Resonance – L.L.M.R. Combine stabilized Hexcore particles with a bio-energetic catalyst. Reinforce the muscle cell structure with small vibrational magic charges to prevent atrophy. Use the regeneration rune adapted from a previous project — the one he had destroyed out of fear of crossing a line.

He would need to prepare a prototype pill. It wouldn’t be a cure. But it would halt the progression. It would let Viktor breathe without pain. Walk. Sleep without coughing blood. Survive.

Jayce ran a hand through his hair, exhausted. Viktor’s scent still lingered on his shirt. It anchored him. He couldn’t fail him again.

In a quiet voice, he murmured, as if Viktor could hear him through the walls:

“You’re not going to die from this. I swear. And the Hextech will be destroyed once it’s served its purpose.”

In the corner of the page, he began sketching a dual administration diagram: one reinforced capsule of antibiotics, and another with the hextech muscle compound, encoded with protective runes to avoid interference with other bodily functions. The capsule should be taken with fortified meals — preferably right after high-calorie food. Three times a day, indefinitely.

At the bottom margin, a trembling note in his handwriting:

“If necessary, burn the Hexcore itself to sustain him.”

Jayce stared at the line and didn’t erase it. His heart ached at the thought of entrusting Viktor to cold, indifferent science. He would use whatever it took — magic, technology, or his own body — to save him.

And then, utterly drained, he leaned back in the chair, letting the pen slip from his fingers.

He would be in the lab the next day to begin the project.

Chapter Text

Viktor suspected that Jayce hadn’t slept. The man carried on his face and shoulders the weight of years of exhaustion. He had that same feverish look of obsession that always appeared whenever a new idea about Hextech took over his mind — a restlessness that kept him from abandoning equations until he had solved every mystery. It was something they both shared. Something they had lived together, side by side, through so many sleepless nights in the lab.

“Am I interrupting?” His voice was low but firm, announcing his presence. Jayce startled, turning with wide eyes, as if he had been yanked abruptly from another world.

“Viktor! Oh! You shouldn’t be up, the doctor was clear—”

The pen slipped from Jayce’s hand and rolled to the floor as he stood up hastily. In just a few steps, he was in front of Viktor, hands on his shoulders, running over him with urgency, as if expecting to find some new wound.

“Calm down,” Viktor said, trying to peek at whatever Jayce was doing at that hour, but the other man stepped in front of him, blocking his view. “I’m not that helpless. I just couldn’t sleep anymore and thought I’d get a book. I’m… feeling better.” He forced a smile, but his gaze was sharp. “Although it seems that while I rest, my partner is destroying himself behind my back.”

Jayce’s eyes met his — intense, disordered. There was something there — desire, concern, guilt? Maybe all of it.

“Viktor, you should be resting. I… I worry.” Jayce took a deep breath, visibly holding himself back. “You barely ate dinner. Are you hungry? In pain? I see you found your cane, but… you shouldn’t be pushing your body.”

“I think I left you a mess,” Viktor whispered, his voice full of regret. He brought his free hand up to Jayce’s face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to end up like this because of me.”

I wanted to save myself.

Jayce leaned into the touch. As if he needed it to keep from falling apart. His hands slid across Viktor’s back, pulling him gently into an embrace. The cane slipped and hit the floor with a muffled sound.

Viktor brought his other hand to Jayce’s neck, and they stayed there, holding each other. Their breathing aligned, as if their bodies knew what to do, even if their minds still resisted.

“I’m sorry,” Viktor murmured. The hug tightened. His face buried in Jayce’s neck, and he breathed in deeply. When Viktor felt the warm dampness on his skin, he knew Jayce was crying.

“I really am…” Viktor repeated, now in a trembling whisper. His sighs broke the silence, and Viktor just held him tighter, fighting his own tears. “Jayce…” he called softly. “Why don’t you come rest with me?”

Jayce’s hold tightened, and he shook his head.

“You need to rest too. I won’t be able to follow the doctor’s orders knowing you’re breaking yourself down here, taking care of a dying beta who—”

“Don’t talk about yourself like that.” Jayce’s voice came out hard, thick with emotion. “Don’t even think it. Not to yourself. Least of all to me.”

“Sorry… I was trying to lighten the mood,” Viktor said, running his fingers through Jayce’s hair. “But I’ll repeat my request… come with me, please?”

Jayce hesitated. His eyes flicked to the desk, where unfinished equations and scribbled papers awaited him. Viktor, noticing the hesitation, raised his hand and gently pulled him back.

“Just for a little while. If you want, I can even help with the work later. A way to repay the care you’re giving me.”

Jayce opened his mouth as if to protest, but Viktor was faster. He took a step back, pulling him by the hand.

“Come.”

For a moment, Jayce let himself be led. Then, as if something inside him overflowed, he acted on impulse: he picked Viktor up.

“Whoa, big guy. This doesn’t have to become routine. I can still walk, you know that.”

“Let me.” Jayce’s voice was low, nearly broken. At another time, Viktor would’ve insisted. But the fatigue still throbbed in his body, and Jayce… Jayce looked on the verge of collapse. He simply rested his head against the man’s chest.

The way back to the bedroom seemed shorter this time. The trip there had taken effort — he had to ignore old, quiet pains, grope for his cane, and move silently through the still-sleeping house. But now, in Jayce’s arms, Viktor simply closed his eyes.

When they entered the room, Jayce placed him on the bed with the utmost care. But before he could pull away, Viktor held his hand.

“Stay,” he said simply, pulling him into the bed. Jayce didn’t resist. He lay down beside his partner and let Viktor wrap his arms around him.

“Are you comfortable?”

“Stop worrying so much,” Viktor replied with a tired smile. His hand reached for Jayce’s hair, touching it hesitantly. The intimacy was new, fragile — but welcome.

They were both exhausted. Making decisions without thinking, or perhaps thinking too much and ignoring the risks. Viktor closed his eyes and murmured, in a thread of voice:

“Rest.”

“…”

“Jayce,” he opened his eyes and looked at where Jayce’s head rested. “You can rest, I’m not going anywhere.” He forced a weary smile when the alpha’s head turned toward him.

It’s not like he would disintegrate from reality if Jayce rested.

“Promise me.” Jayce’s voice came out firm, commanding, his gaze tense.

“Promise what?” He had gotten distracted by what he had just said.

“That you’re not going anywhere.”

Viktor blamed the chronic pain, the exhaustion soaking both their bodies, the late hour, and the friendship and partnership they shared for the words that slipped softly from his mouth.

“I promise.”

After all, it was only a matter of time until he wouldn’t be alive anymore.

Two days had passed in a strange way. Mrs. Talis had always been kind and cared for him with devotion. They sat together for meals. Jayce had insisted on a strict diet for his recovery, and it seemed the sweet woman shared her son’s concerns. She was like a mother. Not that Viktor had a figure to compare her to, but he imagined that kind of gentle, persistent care must have something maternal about it.

“Viktor, my dear, even if Jayce isn’t around, you need to take care of yourself. Have you taken your medicine? Want a snack? Can I do something for you, darling?”

The omega’s hands often moved in soothing gestures, brushing through his hair as he cleaned his plate, even if his body protested from the excess. He wasn’t used to eating so often. He’d probably gain weight until he reached — or surpassed — a normal level if he kept staying at the Talis home.

Jayce was bossy. He demanded that Viktor rest and had forbidden him from leaving the house. Mrs. Talis tried to reassure him, saying Viktor was part of the family and that the alpha in Jayce only wanted to protect him. She asked him to be patient until her son’s instincts calmed down.

Viktor thought all of it was nonsense. And when he felt slightly better halfway through the third day, he decided to sneak out.

He slipped past a few guards — last time, his attempt had been foiled, and he’d been carefully escorted back to the mansion.

This time, he reached the lab without major trouble, except for the fatigue carved into his bones.

That was when he found Sky.

“Oh… Miss Young?” he called.

“Viktor?” She smiled when she saw him and walked toward him, but when she was just a step away, she froze. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. I wanted to apologize for what I put you through. I didn’t mean to cause any trouble… and you’re definitely not paid enough to deal with all that.”

He apologized, embarrassed. She had seen him in a moment of deep vulnerability — and that left him ashamed.

“You don’t need to apologize. I was glad I could help.”

She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Did the doctor have any news for you?”

She tried to smile encouragingly.

The silence in the hallway grew heavy.

“Don’t be sad,” Viktor said, with a faint smile. “I’m still going to finish the Hextech research. I’m sure that if something happens to me, you’ll keep a good job. Jayce will carry on the Hextech dream, and maybe you’ll even take my place. Your mind is incredible.”

He wanted to say he would keep fighting for a cure, but after yet another failed experiment, it would be shameful to be saved again.

“Viktor…”

This time, her hand touched his.

“We’ll find a solution. Talis…”

The name came out with a note of distaste she quickly tried to mask.

“I’m going to help you. You don’t have to save yourself alone. There are people who care. I don’t want to replace you — I’m glad you’re here. You’re an inspiration.”

“Do you know if Jayce is in the lab?”

“I haven’t gone there recently.” She looked away. “I’ve been… taking a break, so to speak.”

“Oh. Well, I suppose he’s busy with the Council. I was going to ask if you wanted to come with me, but I don’t want to interrupt your time off. It was good to see you. Thanks again… and sorry.”

“I’d love to come with you, Viktor. If you don’t mind having me around.”

“Of course.”

After an exhausting day in the lab — one more step toward Viktor’s cure, one more line of code, one more risky formula — Jayce finally returned home. His body felt left behind, crushed under the weight of hope and fear.

The familiar smell of warm food greeted him at the door, along with the muffled sound of voices from the kitchen. He paused for a moment in the hallway, listening. His mother’s voice, low and sweet. And Viktor’s, softer than he remembered, almost a whisper.

For a moment, he allowed himself to truly breathe.

It felt like a dream. Or maybe a ghost of something he never had. That domestic peace. That quiet intimacy.

“I’m home,” he announced, a genuine smile as he stepped into the kitchen.

Viktor and Ximena turned at the same time. Viktor’s gaze lingered longer. As if he were reading Jayce with a mix of relief and something he couldn’t name.

“Welcome back, son,” Ximena said warmly. “Viktor and I were waiting for you for dinner.”

Jayce approached, his eyes quickly settling on his partner. The cup in front of him still let off steam — probably tea with milk — and the cane rested against the chair nearby. But what caught his attention was the exhaustion etched in Viktor’s shoulders, the almost sickly pallor of his skin, the way he breathed.

But he looked happy. Happy to see him.

“Hey,” Jayce murmured.

“Hey,” Viktor replied, with a small smile. Jayce leaned in and rested his hand at the base of the beta’s neck, pulling him closer. The scent was familiar, clean, steeped in the house’s soaps — steeped in Jayce.

“How are you feeling?”

The beta shrugged, as if it were nothing. As if all of it were just a detail.

“Fine. Your mom knows how to distract someone with photos and stories of a little Talis.”

A smile formed on Jayce’s lips, though his eyes still searched Viktor’s face for hidden signs.

“Hope nothing that ruined my reputation with you.”

“Relax. They were all good stories. I promise.”

Jayce sat down beside him, allowing himself another sigh. As if that moment could last forever, as if he could freeze time right there. That was what he fought so hard for. That was why he burned his fingers writing, recreating, and inventing everything he needed, why he sacrificed nights, why he let his sanity hang by a thread.

Did he still have sanity?

It was because of this: Viktor there, in his house, next to his mother. Being a family.

He was going to get better. And then everything would be fine. They would finally be together. Like this. The way they were always meant to be.

“What else did you do today?” Jayce asked, turning to face Viktor with practiced ease.

The beta froze. For a second, just a second, his body tensed.

Ximena looked away toward the counter, pretending to mind the pots.

“Oh, nothing,” Viktor answered, far too casually. “Chronic cough that won’t let me sleep, talking… There’s not much to do since you locked the office.”

There was a lie there.

Jayce felt as if a shadow crept over the table—cold and sharp. His mother avoided his gaze. The silence in the kitchen had grown heavy now.

“Viktor.” His voice had lost all the lightness from before. “What did you really do today?”

“Huh? Just that.”

“Don’t lie to me.” He leaned in, looking directly at him. “What did you do today?”

The beta sighed, defeated.

“I went to the lab.”

The crack that formed in Jayce’s chest wasn’t physical, but it hurt as if it were.

“You did what?! I told you to stay home! You went to test the Hextech again?! Viktor, I was clear! Clear about rest! You were forbidden from going to the lab!”

“You can’t forbid me from anything!” Viktor snapped, his voice sharp as glass. “The lab is mine too! If I managed to leave the house, it means I’m capable! I don’t need your permission to live, Jayce!”

“Yes, you do! Because if something happened, if you died while I was gone—what do you think I would feel, huh?! Don’t you get it?! I turn my back for one second and you try to destroy yourself again!”

“Destroy everything?! I’m trying to help! And you treat me like I’m some sick child! I don’t need this!”

“You need me! Or do you want to die again just to prove a point?!”

Viktor stood up abruptly, grabbing the cane.

“Thank you for hosting me, Mrs. Talis. Goodbye, Jayce!”

But before he could take a step, Jayce was already on his feet. The chair scraped violently against the floor. His hand seized the cane and threw it against the wall — a dry crack echoed through the kitchen.

His other hand gripped Viktor’s arm, firm like a shackle.

“You’re not going anywhere.” His breath was ragged, almost panting. “Go to your room. And we’ll talk when you calm down.”

“Jayce… What… what’s wrong with you?” Viktor’s voice was shocked, disbelieving. The audacity of this alpha. As if he hadn’t left Viktor wasting away alone before.

Jayce’s instincts were out of control, and he didn’t understand why.

Jayce laughed. A hollow laugh, without humor, without soul.

“What’s wrong with me? Of course. Of course nothing could be perfect.”

He was still holding Viktor’s arm. Tightly. As if the world would fall apart if he let go.

The entire kitchen seemed to hold its breath. The steam rising from the forgotten food on the stove dissolved in the air, as if even it were afraid to exist in that moment.

Ximena stayed silent, her hands trembling around a dish towel, her gaze fixed on the floor.

“Let go of my arm,” Viktor demanded, voice low, controlled. But Jayce recognized that tone — he himself had used it many times, when the pain was greater than the pride.

“You’re not leaving,” Jayce repeated. “Not like this. Not now.”

“You don’t get to decide that, Jayce,” Viktor muttered.

But Jayce didn’t loosen his grip. Something inside him was screaming to stop, but another part — the one corroded by years of fear, exhaustion, and sleepless nights — was louder.

“You don’t understand,” he whispered, unable to hide the sorrow. “I can’t lose you. I won’t.”

Viktor looked at him for a second. Those brown eyes, once so full of life, now seemed clouded, unfocused. There was anger, yes, but also a trace of disbelief. And Jayce knew, the instant he saw him hesitate, that he had crossed a line.

But he didn’t go back.

“Go upstairs. Now.” He tried to make the command sound like a request, letting go of Viktor’s arm only to point toward the hallway. “And don’t make me carry you.”

Viktor hesitated. His gaze dropped briefly to the cane lying on the floor, too far away to reach without help. There was something profoundly humiliating about that moment — like a wounded bird being forced to fly.

With effort, Viktor turned. One step, another, with his body stiff and unsteady. Jayce walked behind him like a shadow.

“I’m sorry.” He retrieved the cane and handed it to Viktor.

“Jayce, please…” Ximena began, finally finding her voice.

“Not now, Mom,” he replied, without looking at her. “I’ll handle this.”

The stairs creaked under Viktor’s hesitant steps. Each one felt like a sentence. Jayce seriously considered carrying the beta, but the act would be more insult than comfort right now. When they reached the bedroom, Jayce opened the door unceremoniously.

“Get in.”

Viktor turned to him, face pale, eyes flashing.

“You’re not well.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Jayce shoved the door hard, making Viktor stumble back. “You’re staying here. You’re going to rest. And you’re going to think about what you’re doing.”

“This is… this isn’t right.” Viktor’s pride wouldn’t let this go. If Jayce was going to hurt him, he would strike back. “You need to accept that I’m going to die, and this ridiculous alpha behavior of yours isn’t going to save me. Death is still going to pull me, and there’s nothing you can do. No one can. And if you want the end to look like this, then fine.” He took a deep breath. “We’ll talk tomorrow.” He didn’t say it would also be the day he’d leave.

Jayce chose to ignore his partner’s words. Ice and rage coursed through his veins. He didn’t want to make it worse than it already was.

He shut the door. Locked it. Turned the key slowly, like someone sealing away something they could no longer control.

From inside, came the muffled sound of a hand hitting the wood.

“Jayce!”

Viktor’s voice now carried a higher note — anger and disbelief mingled.

“Jayce, open this door! This is insane! Are you out of your mind?”

He didn’t answer. He stood still outside, forehead pressed against the cold door.

His fists clenched, chest heaving.

“You said it yourself — we’ll talk tomorrow.”

He murmured, and the sound of fists on the door ceased. Inside, Viktor was breathing deeply, trying to calm himself. A cough tore through him, forcing him to stumble and collapse onto the bed.

Blood soaked the bedsheet.

The coughing didn’t stop. It emptied his mind until there was nothing left but the spasms wracking his body and the desperate need for air.

And Jayce felt it — with devastating clarity — that something had broken between them. Something that might never be repaired. Viktor’s coughing seemed to burn his own lungs and throat.

Still, he didn’t unlock the door.

Jayce stood there for a while, frozen in front of the locked door, listening to the coughing that wouldn’t stop. It only made the ache in his chest worse.

He had learned that drastic decisions were often necessary when it came to Viktor. Viktor himself had asked him to end it once. When those stupid ideas took root in his beta’s mind, it was hard to dig them out.

There was only one person who could prove him wrong.

Only one person who could convince him there was still hope.

Hope for healing.

For both of them.

And that person — in every possible reality — was him.

Jayce.

The key still trembled between his fingers. He wanted to throw it away. He wanted to open the door, pull Viktor into his arms, and beg for forgiveness — for the fear, the anger, the violence. But he also wanted to believe that what he had done was necessary.

That he was protecting Viktor.

That he wouldn’t survive if something happened again.

The alpha walked down the stairs slowly, as if he’d aged twenty years in two minutes. The kitchen was just as they had left it, except for the absence of Ximena. The plate on the table. The tea, now cold. Everything screamed of a scene interrupted — of a life that almost was, but never quite happened.

He sank into the chair Viktor had been sitting in. Ran his hands over his face. The rage had drained away, replaced by cold, hollow exhaustion.

His hands still ached — not from strength, but from how tightly he had gripped. He remembered the feel of Viktor’s thin arm, the heat of his skin, warmer than it should’ve been, the tension under his fingers.

The memory burned.

He slammed his hand against the table. The sharp sound echoed through the kitchen.

“Damn it.”

He looked at the cup in front of him. Viktor’s cup. He picked it up, still half full, and brought it to his lips. It was cold. Bitter. The taste lingered — the same taste now sinking into his chest.

Suddenly, he stood up. Headed toward the exit. He wasn’t even aware of where he was going — as if the ground might hold answers. As if movement alone could silence what screamed inside him.

What had he done?

“You’re better than this,” he muttered to himself.

But it didn’t feel true.

Viktor hadn’t meant those things. It was just his anger talking. Jayce let out a bitter breath.

His partner was always so expressive, so full of fire. That spark couldn’t be extinguished, right? Always his little one. Even fragile, even sick, he fought like he carried a furnace in his chest.

Jayce clung to that thought like driftwood in a storm. He needed to believe it was all still there. That nothing had shattered beyond repair.

He didn’t even realize he had walked to the forge.

The heat met him like a slap that comforted. The gloom was broken only by the orange glow of coals still alive from the night before. He tossed in more coal and worked the bellows. The fire roared awake with a hiss.

He shed his coat. His shirt sleeves were already rolled up, but he didn’t even notice when his knuckles reddened.

He picked a piece of steel and threw it into the fire. A piece with no purpose.

He would give it one.

Just like Viktor gave him one.

He hammered.

The sound of metal rang out like a muffled scream. He struck again. And again.

Until his breath came in gasps, sweat ran down his temple, and his arms trembled.

BAM. BAM. BAM.

Each strike an attempt to silence the guilt.

Each spark a flash of Viktor’s betrayed eyes.

Jayce clenched his teeth.

He doesn’t understand.

He doesn’t see everything I’m trying to do for us.

If he dies… if he dies…

He struck harder.

The bar snapped.

He tossed it aside and grabbed another.

This one different. Longer. Thinner.

He stopped.

Stared at it.

His eyes narrowed.

No…

This wouldn’t be just to burn the rage. Not tonight.

He walked to the bench and retrieved the blueprints he kept hidden from Viktor.

The first working model. Still unstable. Still rough.

But promising.

If Viktor didn’t want to be protected…

Then he’d have to be strong.

Strong enough to not need orders, locks, or ultimatums.

He would build it.

With or without permission.

With soot-stained fingers, he spread out the papers.

“Let’s see how far I can get before I fall apart completely…” he murmured.

He powered up the auxiliary systems. Precision tools, stabilizers, the Hextec base — a small, glowing blue core. A prototype neuromuscular interface meant to attach to the spine.

He began to work like a man possessed. Every weld, every adjustment was a mechanical prayer. There was no more room for doubt. If he couldn’t control Viktor…

He could at least give him a body strong enough to stand on its own.

Hours passed.

Outside, the night sank deeper into darkness.

Inside, Jayce merged with his creation like a desperate craftsman.

He no longer felt tired. Only purpose.

This is for you. Even if you hate me. Even if you never understand.

When the first rays of dawn slipped into the forge, Jayce was hunched over the prototype, covered in grease and sweat, eyes bloodshot — but filled with dangerous conviction.

The piece before him pulsed softly with energy. Still incomplete. But alive.

Like Viktor.

He returned home with the prototype.

His mind finally quieter.

How foolish he had been. Viktor was a scientist. If he just showed him what he was planning, his partner would accept it more easily. He’d embrace Jayce’s idea like he did the first time.

He had been stupid not to try this before.

He wanted to surprise him — but Viktor was stubborn, and that had only made things worse.

It was better to fix it.

“Viktor,” he called softly, standing in front of his partner’s door. His voice was hoarse, almost timid.

“Are you… awake yet?”

Silence.

“I… I didn’t want to do that. But you need to understand…”

He stopped.

He had said that before.

And it had sounded like a tyrant’s excuse.

He rested his forehead against the door. Closed his eyes.

“Just answer me. Please.”

And then, from the other side, came the reply.

Faint. Almost a whisper.

But painfully clear:

“You locked me up like I was a threat.”

Jayce felt his chest collapse inward.

I love you. That’s why…

You don’t know how to love.

Silence again.

“Sorry will never be enough. So let me show you what I’ve been working on these past few days.”

He unlocked the door.

And looked into the dark room.

Viktor was sitting beside the bed, defeated. Dried blood stained his face and the edge of the handkerchief Jayce could see.

His mind shattered.

Chapter Text

Jayce ran to the bed and knelt beside it, his eyes fixed on the bloodstains on the sheets.

“Viktor! Are you hurt?!”

Desperate, he searched for injuries, but the blood was already dry. T were no cuts, no clear sign of w it came from. Still, the panic in his chest didn’t subside.

“You locked me in  like a pet, like you could do whatever you wanted with me.”

Viktor’s voice was cold, but trembling — t was pain in it, more than anger.

“Viktor.”

Jayce took his hands firmly, yet with reverent care. He didn’t let him pull away.

“Apologies aren’t enough. I know. And I can’t explain everything… yet. But I need to show you something.”

His eyes burned with intensity.

You are a wounded man. Desperate like me. You’ll understand.

“I spent the night working on a prototype for a neuromuscular interface. It connects to your spine. And —” he pulled a small vial from his pocket “— this capsule. I’m developing it as a gene therapy.”

Jayce spoke quickly, words laced with hope, almost urgency.

“It uses a viral vector to introduce a human gene into your body that codes for microdystrophin — a reduced, but functional version of natural dystrophin. This could partially restore muscle function, regenerate tissue. In time, we might even heal your lungs. Hextech has enough magic to make that possible. With its energy and the formula I created, you’ll be okay…”

“Destroy Hextech, Jayce.”

Viktor’s voice cut him off. Low, hoarse, still marked by the cough from the night before.

“I’m a lost cause.”

He coughed lightly and closed his eyes before continuing.

“Hextech is a danger. Even now… I still hear its voice in my mind. I think it’s affecting you too.”

Viktor pulled his hands away from Jayce’s and brought them to the other man’s face, forcing him to meet his gaze.

“I had a vision. Destruction. Emptiness. Despair. A ravine. Hextech is not salvation, Jayce. It’s ruin. If I stay alive, I’ll be part of it. I will be the destruction. You need to end it. I don’t know if I have the strength, and the longer it goes on, the more corrupted you’ll become too. This is consuming us, Jayce. And it won’t stop.”

Jayce was silent for a few moments.

He knew. He knew it was true.

He came from a future Viktor now glimpsed only in feverish fragments. A future w Hextech had won. W he had lost Viktor. W he fought, bled, killed… all for a second chance.

Of course he would destroy Hextech. He wouldn’t let it take him again.

Not now.

Not when he was so close.

But letting Viktor die… that was never part of the plan. It never was.

Poor Viktor.

He didn’t know Jayce had already thought of everything. He just needed to make him understand.

“My dear.”

Jayce whispered, his voice trembling with tenderness and conviction.

“You don’t need to worry. I know what my duties are.”

He leaned in slightly, his eyes fixed on Viktor’s.

He wanted to state the facts. I am your alpha. Your mate. Your partner. Your future and your becoming.

But it wasn’t the right time.

“Everything will be fine. I’m taking care of it all.”

Viktor didn’t seem convinced. His gaze was hazy, heavy with doubt and exhaustion.

Jayce rose slightly and, with both hands, held Viktor’s face gently.

“I promise I’ll destroy Hextech. And you’ll be healed. Let me show you. I know I made mistakes, but it was all for us.”

Their eyes met — deep, broken, full of wounds time wouldn’t heal on its own. Jayce didn’t think. He simply leaned in and brushed Viktor’s lips in a brief, restrained, almost hesitant kiss.

Viktor barely had time to react. When his eyes opened again, Jayce was closer, leaning in once more.

“Jayce… you shouldn’t do this.”

“Please.” Jayce’s voice was a desperate whisper. “Let me take care of you. For real.”

Viktor bit his lip, his gaze faltering. Jayce wasn’t the same anymore. And he knew why. Hextech. Maybe even himself.

He didn’t believe in the cure. Not really.

He knew death was looming — if not by illness, then by his own hands, should Jayce fail to keep his promise.

But now… now he was afraid. Of the future. Of himself. Of what he’d seen. He wanted to help others.

He wanted to save himself. But he was tired.

Tired of fighting.

Tired of denying.

Tired of feeling.

Maybe… maybe this was the only thing he could give Jayce. Just this.

And then, for the first time, he was the one who leaned in.

The kiss Viktor initiated was as brief as it was fragile. His lips trembled, dry, as if they were about to crack. Jayce received it with closed eyes, and for a moment everything seemed suspended — without time, without pain, without destiny.

But t was no tenderness t. Only a pause before the fall.

When their lips parted, Viktor didn’t open his eyes. He took a deep breath, struggling. His chest felt heavy. Not just from the damaged lungs, but from the sense that something irrevocable had just been sealed.

Jayce ran his fingers along his face, tracing the line of his jaw down to his neck, as if trying to memorize every fragment.

“You’re burning up,” he murmured. “But it’s my fault, isn’t it? We had a silly fight but your body seems to understand that being apart from me is even worse. I’m sorry, V, I’m going to make this better.”

He smiled, but t was something broken in that smile.

“You didn’t need to carry this alone. Now that you have me, you don’t have to anymore…”

Viktor opened his eyes and looked at Jayce, his gaze clouded with fever.

“You don’t have me,” he said, softly.

But Jayce only silenced him with a longer kiss, too firm for such a fragile body.

“What do you want now, Viktor?” The question was whispered against his skin. “Tell me… in your vision… what exactly did you see?”

Viktor shut his eyes tightly. The memory was sharp.

“Machines, the arcane… t was nothing. A ravine. T was no more pain, but no choices either, no dreams. Nothing but the void. And you and I were on a plane and… you and I…”

Viktor didn’t finish. For a second, Jayce stopped. The silence was thick.

Then he smiled, but his eyes looked strange. Dark.

“But you haven’t done it yet. And I came back for that exact reason. Hextech won’t be a problem, as soon as I heal you, I’ll destroy it.” He touched Viktor’s forehead with his own. “You’re not going to lose me. And I won’t lose you.”

“If you heal me with Hextech, it’ll still be in my head. In my body. I don’t want that. Not anymore.”

Viktor tried to move, but Jayce stopped him with a gesture too gentle to be natural.

“Shh. Don’t run. Not now.”

His fingers were cold. His gaze was far too warm.

“What you saw wasn’t a warning, Viktor. It was a reminder. Of what happens when we’re not together. Hextech won’t have you if you stay with me. If I claimed you as my mate…”

“You’re wrong,” Viktor whispered.

“Maybe.” Jayce tilted his head. “But I’d rather be wrong by your side than right without you.”

Viktor felt a tear fall, and he didn’t know if it was from fear or exhaustion. Maybe both.

Jayce took something from his pocket — a small vial with a blue-violet liquid. The unfinished formula.

“It’s this or nothing.”

He looked at Viktor. “Do you trust me?”

Viktor hesitated. But t was something cruel about hope. Even when it smells like damnation, it still reaches out like a gentle hand.

“I trust you,” he thinks he lied. But he had already been ready to do this alone. Now he had Jayce… what? Helping him? Understanding his reasons? Wasn’t that what he always wanted? T was no reason to lie or hesitate.

Jayce smiled.

“Then everything will be alright.”

And Viktor knew.

He knew he was lost. In any of the possibilities.

Time passed. Without fanfare, without ruptures.

Jayce continued attending the Council, voting, keeping his public image intact. In the lab, he worked tirelessly — overseeing the formula he developed for Viktor, adjusting the magical components, refining the stability of the viral vector he had engineered. The blue-violet capsule, now more stable, was administered weekly.

Viktor took it without question.

They hadn’t made anything official yet. The word mate floated between them without ever being spoken clearly. The cure was slow. The treatment fluctuated between progress and relapse. That’s why they kept everything secret — between whispers and promises shared only between the two of them.

Viktor didn’t want to involve Sky.

He was afraid.

Afraid of himself. Afraid of hurting her again. Afraid that Hextech might corrupt her too, like a silent poison.

Hextech turning Sky to ashes.

He feared that vision, the one that kept returning at night, even with the medication, even with the warmth of Jayce’s body beside him.

On good days — those when the pill didn’t leave him confused or feverish — Viktor would walk to the lab. His steps still hesitant, but steady enough to fake a recovery that might be real.

Sky no longer seemed to be in the office so often. She never explained the reason very well. He thought it better that way. He felt like he could protect the omega that way.

On some bad days, Jayce dropped everything to be with him. He’d spend the entire day by his side, covering him in kisses, touching his face with devotion, whispering vows that sometimes made sense. Sometimes, they didn’t.

On the bad days, when Jayce wasn’t around, it was Ximena who took care of him.

The omega was delicate. Attentive. Her sweet, calm scent filled the room before Viktor even woke up. She would sit by the bed and hold his hand for hours, murmuring songs in a language he didn’t understand, but that calmed his restless mind.

“You make him happy, my son. That’s all that matters,” she would say, with tears in her eyes.

Sometimes, she’d apologize for Jayce’s behavior — without saying much, without going into detail. As if she understood that this went beyond what could be controlled.

She gave him sweets — Viktor’s favorites. Bought from outside, he suspected. She probably only left the house just for that.

And when the delirium took over… when fever and memory blurred and he screamed in the middle of the night, she would hold him until Jayce arrived and took control of the situation. Banishing his fears from his mind.

And Jayce always knew what to do.

With low words, soft fingers, and the promise that everything was under control.

A voice deep inside still said that nothing was truly alright.

But why listen to it?

Jayce’s whispers were so much sweeter.

Easier to believe.

He had the care of a mother.

Jayce’s love. If he could call that care love.

He was alive. The cure seemed to be working. He no longer coughed blood. He couldn’t — didn’t want to — ask for more than that.

He didn’t know, however, what name to give the kind of love Jayce gave him.

Jayce, for his part, looked radiant.

Revived.

He was finally living the future he had long sought.

He spoke with Mel. Told her he would take another path. She listened in silence and, with a smile, congratulated him.

“If you’re happy… I’m happy for you.”

Jayce didn’t go into detail. He didn’t tell her about the treatment, or the relapses, or how much Viktor depended on him. He didn’t tell her he was going to destroy Hextech soon.

It wasn’t time yet.

But one day… who knows, maybe she would be invited to the wedding. Far from Piltover. A new beginning away from t and from all the battles they had faced.

Everything was falling into place.

Viktor was getting better.

Jayce still held a seat on the Council. Just a few more funding approvals… and then, he could officially declare his courtship.

One step at a time.

He planned it all carefully. It started with an invitation.

“I want you to come with me to the Hextech lecture,” he said, with an unusual gleam in his eyes. “It’s nothing military. Just a presentation… so the politicians can see what we’ve built.”

Viktor hesitated.

But Jayce waited.

He waited until the day Viktor stood up without limping.

The day he walked with his spine straight, head held high. He barely needed the cane anymore. He looked better than the day they first met.

Jayce watched him with pride.

My beautiful mate. My most perfect creation.

Viktor didn’t like public events.

But he was practiced.

As Heimerdinger’s former assistant, he knew exactly how to carry himself. Better than Jayce himself did at the beginning, when he was still learning how to please and captivate potential investors.

“You’re going to charm them all,” Jayce said.

“They all already know me, Jayce.” Viktor took a deep breath. “Why look for investors if you’re going to destroy Hextech? You remember you promised me that, right?”

“I’m just playing my part. They need to believe everything’s fine. I haven’t forgotten my promise.”

Jayce adjusted his jacket and looked at Viktor with intensity.

“And we’ve never been together… like that, to them. We’re just partners, after all.”

“Not in front of them.” Viktor seemed resigned.

“They’ll accept it. I don’t care what they say.”

I want them to know. That you’re finally mine.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea. You’ll show up with an ex-assistant, a Zaunite, who wasn’t even named in the Hextech press releases. And what else? A beta? A beta caught the attention of the man of progress? The alpha everyone wants? I bet their first thought will be that you should be with Miss Medarda.”

Viktor looked away. Took a deep breath. It felt good to finally feel air enter his lungs without pain.

“You’re wrong about that. You’re the only person I could ever want.”

Jayce stepped closer and tilted Viktor’s chin up with his fingers.

“I feel like I was born to be yours. And you were made for me. I don’t care what they think. Or what they believe they can decide for me.”

T was a hunger in Jayce’s gaze. An obsessive gleam Viktor pretended not to notice.

It was easier that way.

Jayce was secretly relieved Viktor wasn’t an omega.

Fewer alphas and omegas to notice just how precious, how lethally charming his mate was.

Less risk of someone trying to steal him.

Of course, that also meant they would never have the same instinctual, visceral bond.

(But that wouldn’t stop him. Jayce had ideas. And time. He would form—he had already formed—a bond stronger than any alpha-omega pair could even dream of.)

He had written a timeline for conquering Viktor.

To care for him. To heal him. And now, to delight in the fullness of having him.

He knew everything about Viktor.

How to please him. His favorite sweets. The different tones of his sighs. Every expression, every hesitation, every muffled moan — memorized, catalogued, loved.

Sky was already out of the way.

Jayce knew she still lingered at the edges, but it didn’t matter.

Now that they had taken that step, t was no going back.

Sometimes, Jayce thought about the day they would finally cross the line of desire.

He knew he would have to prepare Viktor — with care, with patience. A beta’s body wasn’t like that of an omega. It would take time. Maybe weeks until Viktor was ready. He didn’t want to break his mate in two. His size would be an obstacle to overcome.

But they were scientists. They would figure it out.

For now, it was enough to calm his insecurities. To let his scent and presence soothe Viktor for the night.

The night started well.

They arrived together. Viktor made an effort to maintain his posture, to ignore the stares.

Jayce radiated triumph. His scent was a raised flag — he was proud.

Proud of himself. Proud of the mate he had won.

His hand rested possessively on Viktor’s narrow waist.

The whispers in the hall didn’t faze him.

T were questions about Viktor’s recovery. Veiled doubts about the stability of Hextech. Comments about Jayce’s erratic behavior.

All ignored.

Every opinion silenced with a look. A look that said: don’t you dare.

He tried to shield Viktor from it. To hide the noise.

But then, they were separated.

Jayce was called over for a discussion. Something about numbers, about political security.

Viktor stepped away, with the excuse of getting some sweets.

Jayce hesitated.

But allowed it.

And that was a mistake.

Even from afar, Jayce never took his eyes off him.

That’s how he saw it.

The alpha approaching.

Viktor’s space being invaded.

The subtle gesture of sniffing his neck.

That was too much.

His blood boiled. His vision narrowed. Reality reduced to instinct.

Within seconds, Jayce was standing in front of them.

The alpha — a tall, slender man in formal uniform and a falsely neutral expression — barely had time to step back.

Jayce grabbed him by the shirt, lifting him off the ground with brutal ease.

“Are you challenging my claim?” his voice was a hoarse threat. “How dare you?”

“JAYCE!! Stop it!”

Viktor’s voice cut through the air.

It was firm. Unusual.

Viktor never shouted.

Jayce didn’t look.

His focus was on the alpha.

The man had his arms raised, trying to show he wasn’t a threat. His shirt was wrinkled, his body suspended by the hands of a furious alpha.

“Jayce, you’re making a scene.”

Viktor stepped in, placing a hand on his chest.

“You’re not thinking clearly. Let go of the councilman’s shirt.”

But Jayce only gripped tighter.

Not thinking clearly?

A stranger invading his mate’s space?

Sniffing him?

This was a challenge.

And he was only doing what he had to: protecting what was his.

His grip tightened. The man was lifted a few more centimeters, his feet nearly leaving the ground.

“Jayce. Let go. Please.”

Viktor tried to push him, unsuccessfully.

“Think carefully about your next actions, Talis.”

The councilman’s voice was tense, yet controlled. A warning.

Jayce didn’t want to let go.

All eyes were on them.

And now he saw… Mel was approaching.

“Jayce. Let go. Now.”

Viktor’s voice was weaker now. But t was still urgency in it.

Disrespect. Rejection. What was he seeing? Did Viktor want another alpha?

“Jayce… I don’t feel well.”

And that was what made him stop.

Viktor’s gaze lost focus.

The color drained from his face.

His knees buckled, and the strength with which he had been pushing against Jayce’s chest faded like smoke.

Jayce released the other man, who landed on his feet, adjusting himself with wounded dignity.

“Viktor?”

Jayce held him, alarmed.

He pulled him close, wrapped him in his arms.

“Darling, what happened?”

The anger evaporated, replaced by raw fear.

That’s when he heard her voice.

“Jayce. I think it’s best you step away.”

It was Mel.

Mel’s voice was firm, though still polite — as if her authority were being exercised through diplomacy rather than force. But t was weight behind it. A subtle threat beneath every measured word.

Jayce looked up at her, his arms still firmly around Viktor, as if he could shield him from the world.

As if the very air around them were trying to take away what was his.

“He’s not well,” Jayce said, voice low and hoarse. “He needs me.”

“And you need control.” Mel’s response was swift. Her eyes scanned Viktor’s pale face. “Now.”

Viktor said nothing. His body was limp against Jayce’s, muscles drained of strength. His pupils were dilated. His forehead coated in cold sweat. He hadn’t passed out — not completely — but he wasn’t really present.

“Darling?”

Jayce whispered, touching his face with trembling fingers.

“Viktor, talk to me.”

For a moment, t was no response.

The music hadn’t resumed. The whispers had stopped. But the gazes remained — hungry, shocked, masked behind raised glasses and muffled remarks.

Jayce tried to ignore them.

Tried to pretend Viktor had only suffered a light fainting spell. That it wasn’t his own presence, his jealous outburst, his public possessiveness… that hadn’t been the cause of this.

But he knew.

“You’re making a scene.”

“You’re not thinking clearly.”

Viktor’s words still echoed in his mind, like a slap refusing to fade.

Jayce closed his eyes tightly.

He took a deep breath.

“Jayce?”

He couldn’t leave the situation like that. His pride was greater than that. He ignored the gasps as he bent down and kissed Viktor.

Not a chaste kiss, but one dripping with possession. Wet and indecent.

A clear claim. He lingered. Viktor was dazed but responded willingly.

Jayce pulled back, a string of saliva connecting them. He leaned over Viktor again. His hands holding the beta close.

When he finally pulled away, smiling at Viktor, the beta tried to reach for him, even in his slightly pitiful state.

His body was still weak, but now a faint blush colored his face. His eyes were glazed.

The message had been delivered. Loud and clear.

“Let’s go.”

He picked Viktor up effortlessly, like someone used to carrying lifeless bodies. The gesture was calm, controlled. The rage had turned into something worse — possessiveness.

Or fear of losing him.

The crowd parted. No one tried to stop him.

Not even Mel.

In the carriage, the silence was oppressive. Viktor rested his head against him, eyes closed. His breathing was stable, but his skin had turned far too cold again.

Jayce watched him, trying to keep Viktor’s consciousness present, his other hand resting on the beta’s knee.

He tried to ignore the sensation that something had broken.

Was the illness caused by the scene? Some side effect of the treatment?

Had something gone wrong with the formula?

When they arrived, Jayce took him to the bedroom, like so many other times. Covered him with clean sheets. Placed a damp cloth on his forehead. Knelt by the bed and stayed t, watching, like a silent vigil.

And when Viktor opened his eyes — fragile, slow — Jayce smiled. A fractured smile, but sweet.

“You scared me.”

Viktor stared at him for a long time.

“You crossed the line.” The voice was low, worn out. But firm.

Jayce hesitated.

“He came up to you. He scented you, Viktor. Like you were… like you were anyone’s.” His eyes darkened, the anger rising again. “He dared to challenge my bond. Didn’t you see how he looked at you? That was…”

“You exposed me.” Viktor interrupted. “In front of everyone. You made me look weak.”

Jayce rose to his knees, gripping Viktor’s hands.

“They want to take you from me. Don’t you understand?”

“Maybe I’m starting to,” he said, closing his eyes. “Your scent. It’s different. Since before we left. I… I don’t understand. What’s happening to me? To you?”

The sentence hurt more than any blow.

Jayce stood still, absorbing what had been said… Viktor turned his face away, avoiding his gaze.

The room fell silent again, broken only by the soft sound of the beta’s breathing.

Jayce sat on the floor, leaning against the side of the bed. His gaze was fixed, unblinking.

“I just want to protect you,” he murmured.

He had a suspicion that with the courtship routine, his cycle was approaching. Maybe he was entering a pre-rut. As for Viktor’s situation… he had a theory. One that needed testing.

Before he could dwell on it, Viktor was already asleep.

And Jayce remained t for hours, breathing in the scent of fever mingled with the perfume Ximena had sprayed on the pillow.

He thought about how to fix it.

Maybe a smaller dose next time.

Maybe he should further restrict outside contact.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

They didn’t know what was best for Viktor.

But Jayce did.

And because of that, he wouldn’t fail.

A smile spread across his face.

Chapter Text

Jayce woke before dawn. His body felt heavier than usual, muscles taut as if every fiber were humming with contained electricity. He felt restless. His skin burned under the sheet, and even the light touches of the cold air drifting in through the window brought no relief.

The first thing he noticed was the smell. His own scent. Stronger. More insistent. Like an invisible mark spreading through the room. He tried to control his breathing, but it was useless: instinct pulsed in every vein, demanding space, demanding Viktor.

The beta slept curled beneath the blanket, his uneven breathing giving away a troubled sleep. Jayce moved closer, slowly. Viktor’s pale face looked even more fragile in the dimness. Beads of cold sweat dotted his forehead. The smell of fever mingled with the light perfume Ximena sprayed on the pillows. A painful contrast.

Jayce ran his fingers through Viktor’s damp hair, brushing the strands from his forehead. His touch was reverent, but the heat in his chest burned. He knew what was happening. He knew how to read the signs. Rut was approaching—the alpha rut, the inevitable cycle that couldn’t be contained.

He had never felt the pre-rut this intensely. Maybe it was the weight of the months, the obsession, the close living with Viktor. Or maybe it was the bond he was trying to force, insinuating itself on all sides even without omega biology to complete it. Jayce swallowed hard. His mouth was dry, thoughts circling around a single certainty: if he wasn’t careful, he would smother him.

But he couldn’t avoid the feeling of triumph that throbbed alongside the fear. It was as if his whole body screamed: he is yours.

In recent research, he looked up information about the alpha-omega bond with betas. Alphas and omegas can be involved with betas, in a way. The biological markers of a mating will be visible in their blood, but that’s all—there are only a few studies on that kind of mating. But Jayce is a scientist who has traveled through the most diverse possibilities and universes. He has a theory he needs to test as quickly as possible.

When Viktor opened his eyes, the room was still shrouded in dim light. Jayce was seated on the edge of the bed, motionless, like a statue keeping vigil. The beta blinked a few times, confused. The metallic taste still coated his mouth—remnants of fever, perhaps.

“You didn’t sleep,” he murmured, his voice hoarse.

Jayce only smiled, a smile too tired to be convincing. “I wanted to keep an eye on you.”

But Viktor felt the air dense, heavy. Jayce’s strong scent was impossible to ignore. A beta’s instinct didn’t react the same way an omega’s did, but it was still uncomfortable—as if he were being wrapped in an insistent fog that bordered on threat.

“Your scent changed,” he said after a few seconds of silence. It wasn’t an accusation, just a statement.

Jayce tensed for an instant, then relaxed, like someone accepting a secret impossible to hide. “It’s just… part of who I am.”

“You’re close to your rut, aren’t you?”

The question hung between them like a razor’s edge. Jayce looked away for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Yes.”

Viktor drew a deep breath, fighting the feeling of suffocation tightening his chest. He remembered reading about this in old books when he was still a student. Alpha heat, pre-rut, the possessive intensity that made instincts almost uncontrollable. He looked at Jayce again—the light in his eyes wasn’t only worry. It was hunger.

“That’s why you’ve been acting like this,” he murmured. “More…intense.More aggressive.”

Jayce grabbed his hand suddenly, hard. “I would never hurt you. Never.”

The conviction in his voice was so fierce that Viktor felt torn between believing and fearing. His skin burned where Jayce’s fingers touched. Jayce seemed unable to let go, as if the simple contact were necessary to keep him whole.

“I would treat you so well, Viktor; it would be the perfect moment for our mating mark. You won’t even notice when it happens, you’ll feel wonderful…” Jayce began to ramble.

“Jayce…” Viktor closed his eyes for a moment. The image came too fast. The vision of the ravine. The void. The metallic smell of blood. His own body dissolving into Hextech dust. And Jayce, alone, still trying to hold him when there was nothing left to hold.

His heart raced, and Viktor jerked his hand back, leaning against the headboard.

“I don’t want to be your anchor in something I can’t control,” he said, his voice low, trembling. “If Hextech doesn’t destroy me, maybe you will… When I’m gone, I don’t want you spiraling out of control. A mating mark, even between us, would still carry a weight for you as an alpha. I probably won’t feel even half of what an omega would with a bond, but you….”

Jayce moved forward, almost instinctively, bracing his hands on the mattress, his breathing heavy. “Don’t say that. Nothing is going to happen to you! You’re almost healed. I don’t care if we don’t share the same alpha-omega bond; all I want is for you to be mine and me yours.”

But Viktor’s eyes narrowed. For the first time, he seemed to see the abyss before them—not only the illness, not only the technology, but the alpha himself in front of him, consumed by instincts that promised protection and hid domination. This is a terrible idea. To keep playing and pretending there’s love between them. The end will surely be tragic. But what else can he do?

Deep down Viktor knows he’s as mentally messed up as Jayce is. As much as he tries to deny it. He knows what he truly wants.

That night, Viktor couldn’t really sleep. Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw the future. Distorted fragments: Hextech exploding into pure energy, Piltover in ruins, faceless bodies falling in silence.

In some dreams, he was the one who burned. Skin splitting open in blue, purple, and green fissures, illness and magic fused into an inevitable sentence. He saw Jayce trying to hold him—always Jayce—with eyes maddened by pain. And deep down, he knew: it was both their ruin.

He woke with his chest heaving, cold sweat gluing his clothes to his skin. Jayce soothed him, always there, always with soft, steady words, as if nothing could slip out of his control.

“It’s all right. I’m here. I’m going to take care of you.”

But Viktor didn’t know if he believed it anymore. Less and less certain. Make-believe seemed to have its end announced.

In one of those awakenings, he noticed Jayce sleeping heavily at his side, his body radiating heat, his scent even stronger. He looked at him for a long while, studying every detail. The man who said he loved him. The alpha who promised to destroy him and save him at the same time.

And with a shiver, Viktor understood: there was no clean exit. If his illness didn’t kill him, Hextech would. And if it wasn’t Hextech, perhaps it would be Jayce—not with his hands, but with the obsession that bound them.

He rested his head on the pillow, eyes fixed on the dark ceiling. A tear slipped free, silent. He didn’t know if he wept for himself, for Jayce, or for the future that already seemed condemned.

Deep down, though, he knew: he was too tired to fight them both.

As foolish as it was, he still wanted a happy ending for the two of them.

Jayce watched Viktor sleep. The thin body moved slightly with uneven breaths, but there was no blood on the sheets that night. Only silence, cut through by heavy sighs.

He ran his fingers along the beta’s jawline, as if measuring the exact distance of every curve, every fragility. The touch was tender, but his gaze was analytical. As if each feature were part of a map to be deciphered.

“You still don’t understand,” he murmured, his voice too low to wake him. “But one day you will.”

On the nightstand lay an open notebook. Scribbles, formulas, notes in his firm handwriting. Statistical curves, calculations of magical stability, notes on muscular tolerance. Beside it, small vials with blue-violet liquid. The formula was more stable now, but not enough. Jayce wanted more.

It wasn’t enough to cure Viktor; more importantly, he needed to prepare him.

Prepare him for himself.

Jayce knew a beta’s body didn’t respond to instinctive cycles like an omega’s. There would be no heat, no natural receptivity to rut. But he also knew—with the same conviction with which he built giant hammers and magic—that everything could be adapted.

“You are my mate,” he said, almost like a prayer. “All that’s left is for the world to understand it. And for you to understand it too.”

He stood and walked to the desk. He opened a hidden drawer and took out a metal case. Inside were sterilized syringes, cut Hextech crystals, and an unlabeled vial. It was the experimental version of a hormonal regulator, created to mimic the flux of an omega cycle. He wouldn’t dare use it yet. But soon. When Viktor’s body was stronger. When he stopped coughing blood for good.

He closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply the scent that filled the room. His own scent was stronger, more insistent, by the day. Pre-rut gnawed at him from the inside. He needed to prepare himself too, before he lost control.

He sat again by Viktor, studying the curve of his neck, the collarbone exposed beneath the light fabric of his shirt. Instinct screamed to mark, to claim, but he restrained himself. It wasn’t time. Not yet.

“I’m going to prepare you for this, V,” he whispered. “I’m going to make your body able to receive me. I’m going to make sure nothing breaks you, nothing hurts you.”

His fingers settled over Viktor’s cold hand, intertwining with his.

“They will never understand. Not Mel, not the Council, not Sky. But it doesn’t matter. You don’t need to understand either. You just need to trust.”

Jayce smiled. There was no more hesitation in his face. Only the certainty that science and magic, and love, or what he believed to be love, would make the impossible happen.

He kissed Viktor’s fevered forehead and returned to the notebook. There, he outlined the next steps:

Stabilize the microdystrophin formula.

Test the hormonal regulator in small dosages.

Create a neuromuscular amplifier to withstand the physical pressure of the bond.

Restrict outside visits; no one enters during the mating period and, more importantly: no one leaves.

Each step was clear. Each decision, inevitable.

“You’re not going to die. You’re not going to leave me.” The pen scraped hard across the paper. “Neither the illness. Nor Hextech. Not even you yourself will be able to pull away.”

Jayce raised his eyes once more to the sleeping man in the bed. The beta who breathed with difficulty, but still breathed.

And he thought, with a dark flame in his chest:

Soon, you will be mine in every possible way.

Viktor’s thin body lay restlessly, as if even in rest the illness gave him no peace. His breathing was short, uneven, and from time to time his chest heaved, revealing an effort that shouldn’t be there. Jayce already knew every detail of that body. He knew how to tell fever from simple fatigue, and the rare moments of peace.

He ran his fingers along the jawline, then the collarbone, with a care that bordered on devotion. His eyes, however, weren’t only affectionate. There was calculation in them. Scientific observation. The touch was gentle, but the gaze measured, cataloged, planned.

On the nightstand, a notebook lay open. Firm-handed scribbles mixed with calculations, chemical formulas, and anatomical sketches. He’d been updating his notes every night: the stability of the viral vector, Viktor’s muscle response to treatment, the oscillation of fevers. Small details that formed a larger picture.

Beside the notebook, blue-violet glass vials gleamed in the candlelight. The formula was increasingly stable. It wasn’t the definitive cure yet, but it could already stabilize Viktor’s body long enough for him to walk, to breathe without pain during the day.

It wasn’t enough to cure him. Jayce needed to prepare him. Prepare the fragile body for something bigger, something Viktor’s biology had never foreseen.

Prepare him for the bond.

Jayce sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. His own body screamed. At most two days, and his rut would finally arrive.

He had never felt this so intensely. Not even when he was younger. It was as if instinct had finally found a worthy target and now demanded, mercilessly, that he claim it.

Jayce stood and went to the desk. He opened a secret drawer where he kept a metal case. Inside, sterilized syringes, cut Hextech crystals, and an unlabeled vial. The substance was still experimental: a hormonal regulator, created to mimic the flux of a heat. If it worked, it could induce Viktor into a state of receptivity close to that of an omega.

He turned to the bed again. Viktor shifted in his sleep, lips parted, his face drawn by heavy dreams. Jayce approached slowly, kneeling beside him.

Then Viktor opened his eyes. Quickly, as if waking from a nightmare.

“Jayce?” His voice was hoarse.

Jayce smiled, but tension sat in his shoulders. “I’m here. Did you have a bad dream?”

“I don’t know.” Viktor blinked a few times, trying to focus. The room still smelled strong, saturated with Jayce’s scent. More intense than ever. He drew a deep breath, and the suffocating sensation almost made him cough. “Your scent is getting stronger and stronger.”

Jayce squeezed his hand lightly. “That’s normal. My rut will probably arrive tomorrow or the day after.”

“And our plans?” Viktor murmured.

The question fell between them like a blade. Jayce nodded slowly. “We’re going to make it happen. I’ve prepared most of what we need. Your meds are close, we have food for more than a week. No one’s going to interrupt us; you’re already much better. I even thought we could take a little isolated walk around the property. Exercise your body, given how long you were bedridden recently.” Jayce drew a deep breath. “And you know, once my rut really hits, you’re not going to leave.”

Viktor closed his eyes, tired. That possessive behavior, the hungry looks, the outburst at the event days ago… it all made sense now. If he was offering a walk, Viktor wouldn’t refuse. Even if it was within the gates of House Talis and there would likely not be a single living soul on the grounds besides them. But what disturbed him most was the clarity of his own mind: Jayce was hiding something from him.

“You know you can tell me anything, don’t you?” Viktor’s voice came out low, almost a whisper.

Jayce didn’t answer. He only caressed his face, with a tenderness that sounded like an answer; he left a long kiss on his partner’s forehead.

The cool morning air spread over the grounds like a forgotten balm. After so many days trapped between sheets and closed walls, Viktor could hardly believe he was there, breathing something other than the sweet scent of Ximena’s candles or Jayce’s constant oppression.

The lined trees cast long shadows across the lawn. A light wind stirred the leaves, and every breeze that touched his face seemed to wash away layers of fever and exhaustion. Viktor closed his eyes for a moment, soaking it in like someone savoring a last sip of water in a desert.

But Jayce wouldn’t let him go.

An arm remained firm around his waist, as if he feared the beta would disintegrate into thin air, or that the wind itself might dare carry him away. The alpha’s heat contrasted with the morning cool, smothering some of the lightness Viktor felt.

Even so, it was a relief. A relief he wouldn’t dare refuse.

“Do you really believe your plans and mine will come true?” Viktor murmured, almost without noticing.

The question cut the air like a thin blade. Jayce paused for a second, eyes fixed on him, then nodded slowly.

“We’ll make it happen.” His voice was calm, but carried a gravity heavier than any promise. “It’s not a question of if but of when. Our happiness is closer than you think.”

He leaned in, pressing his lips to Viktor’s hair. “You’re already much better. We can increase your medication dosage a little. The new support is helping you walk without any setback. How do you feel?”

“It’s wonderful. I wish I could run. Run until my lungs begged me to stop. Do you think I can do that?”

Jayce drew a deep breath, and there was something of confession in his tone. He pulled Viktor even closer to him.

“Love, you’re almost completely healed. Of course you can. Just not… for now. My instincts would go wild if they saw you running away from me. I don’t want to start a chase or be violent with you unnecessarily. Wait until my rut is over and I promise to take you somewhere beautiful, with flowered fields where we can run hand in hand, and if you want you can even scream with no one to judge or glimpse your beauty.”

Viktor closed his eyes again. The breeze’s coolness suddenly felt so little. He needed to live through one more of Jayce’s empty promises. Jayce’s words were a soft shackle, wrapped in affection, but still a shackle.

He took a deep breath, leaning more into the arm holding him.

“You’re preparing me for something.”

The sentence came out low, almost a whisper carried by the wind. But Jayce heard it.

For a moment, the alpha stopped walking. His eyes fixed on Viktor’s face, intense, unreadable. Then, instead of answering, Jayce raised his free hand and stroked his cheek. The gesture was so tender it almost erased the threat hidden behind it.

A long, soft kiss landed on his forehead. Then on Viktor’s lips.

“What a clever partner I have. I can’t hide anything from you, can I, my love?”

Viktor let himself be led, without opening his eyes. The wind still rustled the leaves, bringing the garden’s cool freshness. Jayce’s presence was solid, inescapable, burning at his side.

He opened his eyes and smiled at Jayce.

“I won’t deny you anything. Let me know.”

In the small hours, Viktor woke again. His body shook, racked by a cold sweat. The visions always returned the same: the ravine, the void, the illness, his own body dissolving into ashes. And Jayce, always Jayce, trying to hold him when there was nothing left to hold.

He sat up in bed, breathless, and saw that Jayce had fallen asleep in a chair nearby, the notebook open across his legs. His head drooped forward, but his hand still held a pen.

Viktor stretched out his arm with effort, taking the notebook. He leafed through a few pages, his eyes locking onto scattered words: hormonal regulator, induction, beta tolerance. His chest went cold.

He looked at the metal case on the desk. The gleam of the blue vials seemed to mock him.

His hands trembled. He closed the notebook slowly, returning it to Jayce’s lap.

He lay down again, staring at the ceiling. Jayce’s scent filled every corner, dense, inescapable.

And a smile came to his face.

It wasn’t by chance that he had fallen in love with Jayce that first night. When he saw Jayce’s work—self-centered, a bit. But so, so brilliant. The notes there were fantastic, a bit messy, but with no apparent errors to correct.

Of course the alpha had a plan for everything! His partner always so intelligent. A cold sensation like a shiver ran through his body. The smile refused to fade. Even as sleep set its soft claws on him and pulled him back under.

Viktor understood, with painful clarity:

If he survived the illness, he would survive only to fall into Jayce’s hands.

And that, deep down, didn’t seem so bad, actually. Viktor was growing more and more eager for that moment.

“I want to bite you too,” Viktor announces. “But what I’m reconsidering is my physical ability to do that in the first place.”

“You’d be far from the first beta to make a similar gesture, if that offers you any comfort.” There had been a rough tone in Jayce’s voice before, but now it was gone. “Much more often, what they’re biting is an omega. There are additional difficulties with an alpha.”

Jayce blinks in surprise and then smiles at Viktor, as if Viktor had given him some kind of gift by saying that. His scent is citrusy and intense and it envelops Viktor, making him practically tremble.

“Well,” Jayce says, looking delighted as he holds Viktor’s hips, pulling him once closer. “Here I am.”

“Here you are,” Viktor agrees. Jayce’s scent intensifies again, his joy at seeing Viktor unbearably clear. He never hides it.

Everything about Jayce can be overwhelming, Viktor thinks, helpless, his belly fizzing with love, desire, and longing. He can barely look Jayce in the eye. He moves closer, fingers sliding along Jayce’s narrow jaw to lift his chin.

“Kiss me,” he demands, hoping he sounds commanding and not pleading.

Jayce’s expression turns soft and dreamy, and it glows like an ember in Viktor’s belly. He sighs as Jayce’s large hand comes up to cradle his nape, coaxing him closer for a sweet kiss.

Viktor loves the way Jayce kisses him—every way he kisses him. He loves deep kisses like this one, slow and sensual, as if he were worshipping Viktor. He loves the kisses when Jayce is drunk on jealousy, his kisses sloppy and insistent. He loves the soft brushing of their mouths after they’ve come, when Jayce is still blissed-out and content to just be close to him, licking at his mouth as if it were what he needed to breathe. He loves the way Jayce kisses him when he’s pouting, the way he can catch Jayce’s lower lip so easily and tug him closer.

He loves how Jayce kisses him now, gentle, sweet, and almost chaste—as if Viktor were precious.

Viktor knows Jayce loves him. He will never doubt that. Even in the depths of his darkest insecurities, he can’t convince himself that Jayce isn’t completely in love with him—it’s clear in what he says, in how his scent intensifies, in how he always, always cares for Viktor.

His former self would never have called any of this love. But who cares? He’s the past.

“When it happens… What I say, I want… uh, what I ask. You know I’ll… want it, right?”

Jayce blinks at him and, when he smiles, it’s a tremulous smile—sweet and a little hungry. “Yeah, I know, darling. But I’ll probably be the one to ask for the crazier things.”

“And you’ll give them to me?”

“I’ll give you everything, just like I know you’ll give me everything too,” Jayce promises.

Viktor feels a shiver of anticipation run down his spine and smiles back at Jayce, feeling tender and turned on at the same time.

“Great,” he whispers, the single word loaded with promise. Viktor swallows and watches Jayce study his face.

Jayce’s rut hits in the small hours.

His voice is rough and deep, and it hits Viktor. He moans softly, pleased by the praise, and leans in. He hooks his leg around Jayce’s hips, rocking against him. He feels how wet he is, how desperate he is, and the sensation washes over him like an ocean wave.

Jayce had given him a dose of his new suspicious formula a few hours earlier.

A heat injector. Basically, it would make Viktor also experience a kind of omega heat. So he could handle Jayce’s rut without getting hurt.

What a good partner he has.

Viktor can’t do much besides endure. If he were fully conscious, he would be embarrassed by how quickly he got messy for Jayce, but at the same time he knows there’s no shame in his desire, in wanting Jayce, in how Jayce gives him exactly what he wants.

Maybe that’s just the effect of the drug and not what Viktor truly wants. But he doesn’t care about that silly thought.

Viktor moans happily, flexing his leg around Jayce’s hips. He rises like that, sliding his pussy against Jayce’s cock. He can feel Jayce’s size, hardening now, and it would be so easy for him to just strip Viktor and slide into him, squeezing him, filling him. Viktor shudders just thinking about it. He wants to be full. He wants to be overfull, overflowing because of Jayce.

“Viktor,” Jayce breathes, and there’s something hoarse and piercing in the way he says Viktor’s name. It sings through Viktor’s blood. He did that. He does that. He leaves Jayce breathless with love. He looks at Viktor and touches him as if he were precious, because he is… He looks at Viktor as if he wants to devour him. Viktor kind of wants to be devoured.

“Fuck me,” Viktor begs, writhing beneath him. He rubs against Jayce, gasping for more. “Why won’t you fuck me?”

He trusts Jayce to take care of him. He knows Jayce will take care of him.

Jayce’s nose brushes his as their fingers intertwine. Viktor can feel Jayce’s breath, can taste his smile in the space between them.

“I know, darling,” Jayce says, comforting and torturing all at once. “But we have to go slow, remember? I don’t want to send you into a frenzy.”

Viktor shakes his head, even knowing it’s true. The last thing they need is for him to lose control during Jayce’s rut—it would only hurt more. If they go slowly, though, it will help ease the tension and pressure. Slowly. Slowly, okay. He can go slowly. He swallows, choking back a groan of displeasure. Jayce needs to take care of him. Jayce wants to take care of him.

Viktor wants to grab Jayce, wants to pull him closer. Desire burns inside him, but it still feels muffled. He wants to be filled. He wants to be fucked. He wants to be wrapped in Jayce, drowned in his scent and marked. Fuck, he wants to be marked. Not even the scrape of Jayce’s teeth along his jaw can center him; it only ignites that desire further.

Viktor cries out, rocking against Jayce, desperate for friction, for release. Desperate for anything.

Fuck, he hates feeling this kind of need. Is this how omegas feel? He’ll be embarrassed later, no matter how sweet and understanding Jayce is. It doesn’t matter. It’s taking over him.

Jayce captures his mouth in a kiss that’s anything but sweet, nipping at Viktor’s open mouth. Viktor gasps against him, trembling with want. Jayce kisses him and Viktor’s mind spins.

And then Jayce pulls back. Before Viktor can complain about the loss, he feels Jayce touch him and easily turn him over, his deft fingers finding Viktor’s waist. He does it with such perfection, such fluidity, that Viktor doesn’t even have time to be confused by the sudden shift. His head spins with nothing but an irrational need for Jayce’s cock.

Viktor doesn’t hesitate, settling on his knees with his hips raised, presenting himself to Jayce. It’s a move he knows will make Jayce lose control. Betas don’t have that urge, but he knows how to perform, and he feels no remorse for doing it when he hears Jayce’s sharp intake of breath and the spike of desire in his scent.

Jayce lets out a low growl as he drags Viktor toward him. Viktor arches back, ass up, letting Jayce take what he wants. It feels good to have Jayce undressing him, tugging his pajama pants and underwear down, exposing his ass. It’s good when one of Jayce’s hands grips his hip and pulls him back, positioning him how he wants. The other hand slides along Viktor’s spine, pushing him down onto the mattress.

Viktor releases a satisfied moan, spreading his legs. But Jayce isn’t in a hurry, taking the pajamas off completely and even removing Viktor’s favorite pair of fluffy socks. His fingers are light as they trace the back of Viktor’s calf, the back of his thigh, up to his ass.

If Viktor could, he’d be purring happily as Jayce opens him up, stroking his rim with his thumb. He loves the fresh taste of Jayce’s sigh in the air.

“Fuck,” he hears Jayce breathe as he dips into Viktor’s hole with a dull, exploratory push. “You’re already so wet, darling. Is that for me?”

Viktor’s hips circle and he bites his lip, feeling filthy and encouraged all at once. He knows Jayce finds him beautiful and he delights in that thought, opening his legs and gripping the sheets tightly. He cranes his neck so he can look at Jayce.

“Only you,” he promises, voice hoarse. “Jayce—”

Jayce gives a trembling little laugh, his hands gently caressing the backs of Viktor’s thighs, then sliding up to hold his ass, spreading him again.

“No, darling,” he says, and then lowers his head to lick Viktor.

Even though Viktor was bracing for it, it still stuns him. He throws his head back with a barely contained howl, his body shuddering at the first perfect touch of Jayce’s tongue, the exploratory teasing of his fingers. Jayce knows how to drive Viktor crazy and seems satisfied with that.

Viktor feels the ghost of Jayce’s breath, the way he licks and teases his hole, wet with Viktor’s own slippery arousal and Jayce’s. Viktor moans, feeling Jayce’s panting against his skin, the soft pressure of his lips, the way he pushes deeper into him.

Viktor cries out Jayce’s name, his nails practically tearing at the sheets beneath him. It’s so good, but never enough. He feels himself dripping, feels the curve of Jayce’s tongue, the teasing of his fingertips as he opens Viktor even more.

Viktor practically sobs from how good it is, writhing, his face pressed to the bed, swallowing all the sounds he makes. He thinks he might be able to say Jayce’s name with difficulty, or beg for something, anything, but he’s not sure. He feels beyond words, in a way only Jayce can bring out of him.

He rides Jayce’s tongue, grinding down against his mouth and shivering at the wet sounds of Jayce’s enthusiasm. A hand strokes Viktor’s thigh as he’s opened by that tongue, and Viktor cries Jayce’s name.

He’s wet and open, slick with desire, and all he wants is Jayce’s knot. He knows, even without begging, that Jayce is determined to take his time. He knows it’s for his own good, but Viktor still burns.

Viktor gropes blindly behind him, grabbing Jayce’s hair hard, and pulls him closer. He rocks against Jayce’s mouth, gasping and begging for more. When he comes, he isn’t surprised, though he barely notices the heat hitting him until he feels the slick warmth on his stomach.

Jayce reaches up and touches him. He strokes him through the climax, licking up the mess Viktor makes.

Viktor sags as he comes down from the peak. He hears Jayce’s rumble of pleasure and shivers when Jayce bites his thigh. He absently pets Viktor’s thighs, and Viktor has the faint awareness that Jayce is scenting him. It feels good and, if possible, Viktor relaxes even further, collapsing onto the bed. His ass only stays up because Jayce is holding him there, mouthing his thighs and rubbing his cheeks. He’s making a mess, Viktor thinks hazily, dazed with orgasm, and he loves the idea of licking Jayce clean.

He barely notices when Jayce flips him onto his back. Viktor gasps softly, staring at the ceiling before lowering his head to watch Jayce as he crawls up his body, pinning him.

The fever came in waves, breaking over Viktor’s mind until it blurred reality and delirium. There were moments when he saw only the room’s dark ceiling; in others, the blue emptiness that always returned in his visions, the endless ravine where everything ended.

He trembled. His breathing was short, but his body burned. He felt the sheets sticking to his skin, sweat sliding down his temples. With every blink, images overlapped: machines in ruins, cities in flames, Jayce bleeding before him… and, at the same time, the firm touch, present, inevitable.

Jayce was there. Always there.

“You don’t need to fight anymore, Viktor,” the alpha murmured, kneeling beside the bed. His voice was calm, but there was a hoarse, hungry note he didn’t hide. “Just let me take care of you.”

Viktor tried to speak, but his dry mouth managed only a murmur. Disjointed words, perhaps a no, perhaps a plea. He didn’t know.

The weight of the fever dragged him under. He had no strength left to resist.

And when Jayce’s lips touched his skin, marking his temple, his neck, his shoulder, he closed his eyes. Part of him wanted to pull away, but his body didn’t obey. Another part… perhaps the most tired, the most broken, simply yielded.

There was no more fight. But something felt so wrong… This sensation was different from what he’d been experiencing before.

“Viktor! Wake up!”

Viktor surfaced from the dream world gulping air. Frightened.

“It’s just a dream, love. You’re here with me. You’re safe. We’re in our room, sharing a rut…” Jayce kept speaking softly to calm his partner. Little by little, the dream slipped from Viktor’s mind and he settled into his reality.

And, in that small hours, the bond was sealed.

Jayce woke with his body still in a trance, his senses flooded by Viktor’s scent. Every instinct, every nerve, screamed that he was now complete. The beta was tied to him. His. Forever.

He had done it.

After everything he did. He had finally done it.

For a few moments, he experienced an unprecedented calm. He looked at sleeping Viktor, the body still feverish, lips parted, and he smiled. A smile of triumph and tenderness.

But the calm didn’t last.

The bond was not just pleasure. It was revelation too. The deep link between them brought fragments of thought, of fear, of doubt. And Jayce felt them like needles piercing his own mind.

Viktor’s visions. The emptiness. The ruin. The sense that nothing could be saved.

Jayce lurched to his feet, gasping. He braced his hands on the table, as if he needed to steady himself to avoid being swallowed by what he had just seen.

“No. That won’t happen. Everything was prevented now that we’re together.”

His heart pounded, his muscles taut. He paced the room like a caged animal.

The bond had given him a new conviction. An absolute certainty that every step, every decision, every sacrifice was justified.

And Viktor couldn’t leave. He wouldn’t leave in any way now that they were mates.

The only problem with their bond is that betas don’t experience the same extent and drive that paired alpha-omegas face. Jayce would feel everything… but Viktor wouldn’t be able to feel everything he felt or obey his alpha voice. Aside from induced heats… there was a risk to analyze.

Jayce needed to make a decision now.

The next morning, when Viktor tried to get out of bed, he found Jayce at the bedroom door. The alpha watched him with a fixed, intense look that mixed concern and command.

“Where are you going?”

Viktor blinked, confused. “Just… need some air. The garden.”

Jayce shook his head. “It’s not safe.”

“Not safe?” Viktor’s voice was weak, but carried incredulity. “Jayce, it’s just the garden. Inside the grounds.”

“No.” Jayce stepped forward, firm. “You don’t understand. The bond showed me. If you go out, if you’re exposed, if others have access to you… the risk is incalculable. The future depends on keeping you protected.”

“Protected… or imprisoned?” Viktor tried to smile, but it came out as a tired gasp.

Jayce came closer, holding his face in both hands. “We’ve just sealed the bond. My instincts are going to be a little out of control for a while. When I calm down we can leave the house, okay? Imagine if something happens right now that we’re finally together?”

His eyes burned, feverish with conviction.

“I won’t let that happen. Even if I have to keep you here, away from everything, until you’re ready.”

Part of Viktor knows he should protest, but the bond throbbed in his mind; ever since it was sealed, the hexcore’s voice had gone silent.

Viktor felt infinite relief.

Hextech wasn’t whispering any tragedy anymore. Nothing. It wasn’t asking him to go complete the plan for a better world. A world that would destroy everything.

It was like feeling another person’s heart beating inside you, and knowing there was no escape.

But after the bond? There was only peace and Jayce.

His beautiful, loving partner Jayce.

He closed his eyes and smiled. It was so much easier to accept.

“Of course, Jayce. Can we have breakfast together?”

The days that followed became repetition. Jayce watched every step, every movement. Viktor no longer crossed the mansion’s gates. The windows were opened only when Jayce was present. Visitors, rare, were screened, turned away, dismissed.

“It’s not isolation,” Jayce would say, in a gentle voice. “It’s care. It’s prevention.”

Viktor couldn’t agree more.

The days turned into a strange routine. Viktor no longer left the mansion. The doors that led to the gardens remained locked, the keys always kept by Jayce. The city, once within reach, had become distant as a memory.

At first, Viktor counted the hours. Measuring time in paces around the room, in scribbled pages, in glances stolen out the window. Part of him wanted to venture out now that he no longer heard the hexcore. But soon that desire was replaced by fear.

What if he went out and the voice returned? Away from Jayce? What if the hexcore replaced Jayce’s mark with marks of its own?

He mentioned this to Jayce, who only soothed him. Saying they were safe. Jayce wasn’t going anywhere and neither was Viktor.

The rhythm Jayce imposed was constant, comfortable: meals at the same times, medicine prepared with precision, conversations at dusk, the warmth of a body at his side when night fell.

Sky sent a letter saying this was imprisonment.

How ridiculous! She doesn’t know anything. She’s safer away from them.

Jayce was different since the bond. His eyes always alert, his hand settling possessively on Viktor’s waist, the whispers that mixed promises of the future and warnings about the danger outside.

But he was also so happy.

Viktor had heard similar phrases all his life, spoken by masters, counselors, bosses who saw in him only a tool. But for the first time, he felt that someone truly believed those words. Jayce didn’t use him for a political end—at least not only that. Jayce truly believed.

And belief was contagious.

One afternoon, Viktor walked out to the bedroom veranda, where Jayce already waited for him with a blanket and a cup of tea. The sun was lying down behind the hills, tinting the sky gold. For a moment, Viktor admired the scene.

“I love you.” He doesn’t even know why he announced it. “Thank you for saving me.”

“Baby…” Jayce pulled him close and kissed him.

Viktor looked away, fixing his gaze on the color of the sky. The fevered mind showed him fragments: the ravine, the void, the broken future. But on that veranda, with tea warming his hands and Jayce sitting beside him, the omens seemed distant, unreal.

Jayce had been right all along.

Weeks turned into months. Viktor’s body was healed. He walked steadily through the corridors, read in the office, wrote in notebooks no one else would see. At night, he slept surrounded by Jayce’s warm scent, tied to the bond that now felt as natural as breathing.

Ximena came to visit. It was so good to be with her. Their talks and her company were perfect.

Sometimes he woke in the middle of the night with terrors. He saw the future again: the destruction, the void, the condemnation. But there were always strong arms to hold him, lips murmuring promises that everything would be all right.

And, strangely, he believed.

At night, sitting before the fireplace, Viktor rested his head on Jayce’s shoulder. The alpha hugged him, covering him with a blanket. Viktor closed his eyes. The crackling of the flames lulled his thoughts, and the bond pulsed softly, like a warm current running beneath his skin.

“What do you think about children?” Viktor whispered. “I can’t have one. I never thought of adopting one because of my illness and studies… But now… I—I want someone to care for too.”

Jayce smiled, pulling him tighter to his chest.

“Anything you want, my love. I’ll make it happen for you. Otherwise, what kind of alpha would I be?”

Outside, the night swallowed the city. The visions could still circle Viktor’s dreams, but inside the mansion there was only silence.

A golden silence, made of promises and resignation.

Whether it was true happiness, or merely the stillness of someone who had given up fighting, no one could ever say.

But for Viktor, in that instant, everything was perfect.