Content Warning:

This arc contains depictions of toxic relationships, emotional abuse, manipulation, cycles of abuse, drugging (love potions/ spells), physical torment, and psychological trauma, implied sexual content, Please proceed with caution if these themes may be triggering for you. Your well-being comes first.


The castle seemed unusually quiet after the king departed. Anagan watched from the window as Ogron's carriage disappeared into the distance, a strange emptiness settling in his chest. The king had left him on business, he gave Anagan a lingering kiss, whispering promises of his return, but something gnawed at Anagan as he watched the horizon swallow the man who had become his entire world.

The first day passed without much incident. Anagan busied himself with his usual tasks, but a dull ache began to creep into his thoughts. By the second day, the ache had turned into a headache that pulsed behind his eyes. His mind kept drifting back to Ogron, to the way his lips had felt against his own, the warmth that had spread through his body during their last kiss.

By the third day, the headache had grown unbearable, and a chill settled into Anagan's bones. He wrapped himself in blankets, but no amount of warmth could shake the cold that seemed to seep from within. His thoughts became erratic, a haze of need clouding his judgment. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Ogron's face, heard his voice, felt the phantom touch of his hand.

The servants noticed the change in Anagan almost immediately. Normally kind and soft-spoken, he now snapped at them for the smallest things. They would come to him with meals, and he would shove the trays away in frustration, yelling that they had prepared the wrong thing, though he couldn't say what it was he actually wanted. His patience, once as steady as the earth beneath his feet, had been replaced by a frayed temper that startled those who served him.

"Where is he?" Anagan muttered to himself, pacing the length of his room. He hadn't eaten in days, and his hands trembled as he ran them through his hair. "He should be here by now…"

When the fifth day came and went, Anagan found himself curled up on the floor, drenched in sweat despite the chill that wracked his body. His mind was a jumbled mess of longing and anger, each emotion crashing against the other in a storm of confusion. He wanted to cry, to scream, but all he could do was shiver as the void inside him grew deeper.

By the time the king's carriage finally returned to the castle, Anagan was a ghost of himself. His skin was pale and laced with sweat , his eyes sunken with dark circles, and his lips were dry and cracked. He could barely muster the strength to stand when he heard the door to his room creak open.

Ogron stepped inside, his eyes gleaming as he took in the sight of his little rabbit in such a state of despair.

"My, my," he purred, crossing the room in slow, deliberate strides. "You look dreadful, Ana. Did you miss me that much?"

Anagan's heart leaped at the sound of his voice, but he could only manage a weak nod. His vision blurred as he stumbled toward the king, every muscle in his body aching with the need to be touched, to be kissed. "Please…" he whispered, his voice cracking. "I… I need you…"

Ogron's smile was cold and calculating as he pulled Anagan into his arms, but instead of kissing him, he gently pushed him back onto the bed.

"Not yet, my Ana darling," he said, brushing a thumb across Anagan's fevered forehead. "You look positively wretched. Let me freshen up first. You wouldn't want to kiss me when I'm not at my best, would you?"

Anagan wanted to protest, but his thoughts were too scrambled to form words. All he could do was nod weakly as Ogron disappeared into the washroom. Each second that ticked by felt like an eternity, the anticipation twisting his stomach into knots.

When Ogron finally returned, he was the picture of calm, his appearance pristine. He approached Anagan with a measured grace, his eyes gleaming with the same unsettling amusement. "Now, where were we?" he murmured, leaning down to capture Anagan's lips with his own.

The moment their lips met, Anagan's body flooded with warmth. It was as if a soothing balm had been applied to every ache, every pain. The chills vanished, his headache dissipated, and the emptiness that had gnawed at him for days was filled with a radiant warmth that spread from his chest to his fingertips. The kiss was unlike any other, deeper, more intense, surging through him like a powerful drug.

When Ogron finally pulled away, Anagan was left gasping for air, his mind a hazy swirl of euphoria. He felt like he was floating, his thoughts no longer his own but entirely centered on the man before him. "Thank you… thank you…" he whispered, his voice trembling with gratitude.

Ogron's smile widened as he traced a finger along Anagan's jawline. "There's no need to thank me, Ana. You know how much I care for you, don't you?"

Anagan nodded, his heart swelling with a love so intense it hurt. He no longer cared about the days of suffering; all that mattered was that Ogron was here now, holding him, comforting him.

"You're mine, Ana," Ogron said softly, his voice wrapping around Anagan like a vice. "And I'll always take care of you. But you must remember, my love isn't free. It's something you have to earn, over and over again."

"Yes," Anagan breathed, his voice filled with a blind devotion. "Anything, Ogron. Anything for you."

Ogron leaned down, pressing another kiss to Anagan's forehead. "Good," he whispered, his tone holding a sinister undertone. "Now, why don't you rest, my little rabbit? You look exhausted."

Anagan nodded, his eyes already beginning to droop. The exhaustion that had been kept at bay by the kiss now overwhelmed him, pulling him into a deep, dreamless sleep. As he drifted off, the last thought that crossed his mind was how much he loved the king, and how he would do anything to make him happy.

Ogron watched Anagan's breathing steady as he fell asleep, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. Everything was falling into place perfectly. His little rabbit was more dependent on him than ever, and soon, Anagan wouldn't be able to live without him.

As Ogron left the room, his thoughts drifted to the next step. The dosage of the love potion had been upped again, and with it, Anagan's need for him would only grow stronger. By the time he was finished, Anagan wouldn't just love him—he would worship him, completely and utterly. And Ogron relished the thought of it.

———-

The grand dining hall, usually a place of warmth , felt cold and empty without the king's presence. The table, adorned with a feast fit for royalty, sat untouched as Anagan fidgeted in his seat, his eyes darting to the door every few seconds. The absence of Ogron gnawed at him, his heart pounding with a growing sense of unease.

"Where is he?" Anagan muttered under his breath, his fingers drumming nervously on the table. "Why isn't he here? He should be here..."

The minutes ticked by, each one stretching into an eternity. The servants, sensing his distress, kept their distance, whispering amongst themselves as they watched him unravel. Anagan's mind raced with anxious thoughts. What if he had to make a decision? What if he made the wrong one? What if Ogron was disappointed in him? The mere thought made his stomach churn with fear.

He glanced at the door again, but it remained closed. A wave of panic surged through him, threatening to overtake his composure. He was supposed to be strong, a leader, but without Ogron by his side, he felt utterly lost. It was as if he couldn't function without the man.

Just as he was on the verge of leaving the table to search for Ogron, Gantlos entered the dining hall. The man took one look at Anagan's distressed state and frowned, concern etched on his features.

"Anagan," Gantlos greeted, taking a seat across from him. "You look like you've seen a ghost. What's wrong?"

Anagan forced a smile, though it wavered. "Nothing, Gantlos. I'm just... I'm just worried. The king should be here by now."

Gantlos raised an eyebrow, sensing that something was off. " If it's not like him to miss a meal, that's no reason to panic. He's probably just busy."

"Busy," Anagan repeated, his voice hollow. "Yes, that must be it. But... what if he needs me? What if he's upset with me for something I did wrong?"

Gantlos leaned back in his chair, his gaze narrowing as he studied Anagan. "Anagan, has anyone ever told you you speak like a mad man? You're not making sense. Why would Ogron be upset with you? You haven't done anything wrong."

Anagan shook his head, his anxiety bubbling to the surface. "You don't understand, Gantlos. He's the king. Everything I do, it has to be perfect, or he'll... he'll..." His voice trailed off, the words too frightening to say out loud.

Gantlos frowned, troubled by Anagan's spiraling thoughts. "Anagan, I don't know much about romantic things, but this doesn't seem right. You shouldn't be so afraid of disappointing him. Ogron is your partner, not your master. You shouldn't have to walk on eggshells around him."

Anagan bristled at Gantlos's words, his heart racing. "You don't know him like I do, Gantlos. The king has a strong personality, but that's just who he is. He loves me, and I love him. Everything he does, it's for my own good."

Gantlos's expression softened with concern, but his voice remained firm. "Anagan, love isn't supposed to make you feel like this. You're terrified, and that's not what this is supposed to look like. King or not, Ogron's behavior... it doesn't seem right."

Anagan's hands clenched into fists a defensive edge creeping into his voice. "No, Gantlos. You don't understand. The king loves me. He needs me. Everything he does, every word he says—it's all because he cares about me. He's just… protective, that's all."

Gantlos sighed, "Anagan, I'm saying this because I know a thing or two. That man's behavior is controlling, not protective. It's not love if it makes you question your own worth or if you can't function without him. You're more than just someone who exists to please him."

Anagan shook his head vigorously, refusing to accept Gantlos's words. "You're wrong, Gantlos. You don't see how much he does for me. He's always looking out for me, always making sure I'm okay. He's just… he's everything to me."

Gantlos's heart ached at the desperation in Anagan's voice, but before he could respond, a servant entered the dining hall, bowing respectfully.

"Lord Anagan," the servant said, "the king has requested your presence in his quarters. He wishes to dine with you there."

Anagan's eyes lit up, relief washing over him like a tidal wave. He stood quickly, eager to be by Ogron's side. "See?" he said to Gantlos, a shaky smile on his lips. "He wants to be with me. He loves me. He needs me."

Gantlos watched as Anagan hurried out of the dining hall, his heart heavy with worry. He could see how deeply Ogron's manipulation had taken root, and it pained him to know there was little he could do to help his friend see the truth. As Anagan disappeared from view, Gantlos couldn't shake the feeling that the path Anagan was on would only lead to more heartbreak.

Anagan, for his part, felt a rush of relief as he made his way to Ogron's quarters. The anxiety that had gripped him all evening began to fade, replaced by a single, overwhelming desire: to please the king. All thoughts of Gantlos's warnings were pushed aside, drowned out by the anticipation of being reunited with the man who had become his entire world.

When he entered the king's quarters, Ogron was waiting for him, a pleased smile on his face as he opened his arms to welcome Anagan. The sight of him made Anagan's heart swell with love and devotion, and he quickly crossed the room to be by his side.

"Come, my little rabbit," Ogron purred, pulling Anagan close. "I've been waiting for you."

Anagan melted into Ogron's embrace, all his earlier fears forgotten. "I'm here," he whispered, his voice full of reverence. "I'm here, my love."

Ogron's smile widened, his hold on Anagan tightening ever so slightly. "Yes, you are," he murmured, his tone both possessive and affectionate. "And you'll always be mine, won't you?"

"Always," Anagan replied without hesitation, the word carrying the weight of a vow. In that moment, there was nothing else but Ogron, nothing else but the desire to be everything the king wanted him to be.

As they sat down to dine together, Ogron's gaze never left Anagan, a glint of triumph in his eyes. Anagan was his. And he would make sure it stayed that way, no matter what.