Izar watched as Rhea’s condition deteriorated at a speed visible to the naked eye, and his heart suddenly sank.
The first sign was her erratic breathing.
Her breathing, which had been fast and shallow from embarrassment, gradually grew long and heated, especially clear in the quiet room.
Next, the flush on her cheeks deepened to an unnatural crimson, like evening clouds soaking through, spreading all the way to the tips of her ears and down her neck.
Those silver-gray eyes, always cold as a mountain spring, now seemed to be veiled with a thin mist, becoming hazy and unfocused, unable to lock onto Izar.
“What… exactly did you make me drink…”
“Izar…” She called his name again, her voice no longer angry or cold, but soft, almost whimpering and trembling. “I… I feel strange…”
Unconsciously, she pressed her legs together, slender fingers clutching the bedsheet beneath her so tightly that her knuckles turned white, as if fighting desperately against something.
But her body betrayed her will, beginning to twist ever so slightly, uncontrollably, as if countless ants were crawling under her skin, bringing waves of intolerable itch and a deeper, unfamiliar emptiness.
“Hot… So hot…” she murmured, her other hand tugging at her collar. The once neat neckline was pulled open, revealing a delicate patch of collarbone and reddened skin.
Izar’s scalp prickled—these symptoms went far beyond mere “itchiness”!
He frantically rummaged through his storage ring, trying to find any potion that might help, while his mind raced, recalling every ingredient he’d used when making the Obedience Draught, searching for what had gone wrong.
“Mm…” Rhea let out a stifled, tearful moan.
She seemed to be drowning in a strange, surging tide within her, the dam of her reason rapidly collapsing.
She lifted her watery eyes to Izar, her gaze filled with unprecedented fear and helplessness. “Help… help me… It hurts…”
Almost by instinct, she edged closer to the only source of warmth in the room—Izar. Her body swayed unsteadily, as if she’d lost all strength, and she looked as though she might collapse at any moment.
Izar reflexively reached out to steady her.
The moment his palm touched the skin of her arm, both of them shuddered.
To Izar, it was the shock of her burning skin and its softness beneath his hand.
To Rhea, Izar’s cool palm felt like ice dropped into a scorching desert, bringing a fleeting, impossibly clear relief.
That tormenting itch and emptiness seemed, for an instant, to be strangely soothed.
“Ah…” she moaned in satisfaction, unable to control herself, leaning even more softly against Izar.
She even pressed her feverish cheek against the arm that supported her, rubbing unconsciously like a small creature seeking comfort. “Cool… feels good…”
Izar went completely stiff, as if struck by a petrifying curse.
He could feel Rhea’s burning temperature, hear her ragged breaths on his ear, see her face—so close, so alluring and fragile. A wave of heat shot to his head, and his heartbeat went wild.
An internal battle raged!
The contrast was simply too much.
Rhea like this… was unbelievably adorable…
Reason screamed in his mind.
Push her away! This is Rhea!
The successor of Yarsaid, a big trouble with both main heroine and villainess settings!
She’s only like this because of the drug; if you touch her, the consequences will be beyond fatal.
Yet his body felt nailed in place, especially when he saw how his touch granted Rhea a moment’s peace, her tightly furrowed brow easing ever so slightly. A strange, uncalled-for softness and sense of responsibility welled up in him.
“Lady Rhea, snap out of it!” Izar tried to wake her with words, his voice hoarse. “You’ve been affected by the drug!”
“Drug…” Rhea’s gaze was hazy, as if she couldn’t understand. She just followed the most basic instincts of her body, pressing even closer to Izar, her arms even trying to encircle his neck, tilting her head up, lips slightly parted, her breath fragrant, “But it hurts… Help me… please… it hurts…”
These words exploded like thunder beside Izar’s ear. He jolted as if electrocuted, and only with every ounce of willpower managed to push the clinging Rhea away a little.
“No!” he growled, cold sweat beading at his temple.
He knew he couldn’t let this go on.
He forcefully set Rhea—who was almost hanging off him—down at the edge of the bed, his movements inevitably rough.
Rhea whimpered in protest, her gaze aggrieved and longing as she looked at him, her body still restlessly squirming.
Izar didn’t dare look at her anymore, quickly pulling out his portable alchemy tools and some basic herbs from his ring.
His hands trembled slightly from nerves and the previous shock, but he forced himself to focus.
“Bear with it… It’ll be over soon…” He worked swiftly, extracting essences, blending them in a simple fusion as he tried to soothe the agitated Rhea.
It was excruciatingly difficult.
Rhea simply couldn’t keep still. She kept trying to get closer, her slender fingers tugging at his clothes, her burning body brushing against his back or arm, her tearful pleas and seductive moans constantly battering Izar’s eardrums and will.
“Izar… touch me…”
“It hurts… So hot…”
“Please…”
Every word was like a devil’s whisper, testing Izar’s self-control.
He could only grit his teeth, repeating to himself over and over, “Hold on,” and “Touch her and you’re dead.”
All the while, his hands didn’t stop, brewing the potion at far greater speed than usual.
Sweat drenched his hair and back—this was more exhausting than facing any formidable foe.
At last, after a chaotic struggle—nearly ruining the potion thanks to Rhea’s interference—a small vial of pale blue, glowing tranquilizer was ready.
He turned at once and, before Rhea could throw herself at him again, swiftly pinched her jaw and poured the potion into her mouth.
“Cough… cough, cough…” Rhea choked and tried to resist, but most of the potion still went down.
The effect was quick.
Within seconds, the dazed desire faded from her eyes like the ebb of a tide. Her wild twisting gradually ceased, and her rapid breathing slowed.
Though her cheeks were still crimson and her body perhaps still a little sensitive, that uncontrollable, primal urge was finally forced down.
She blinked in confusion, glanced at Izar so close by, then looked down at her somewhat disheveled clothes. Everything that had just happened pieced itself together in her mind like broken fragments—shame, shock, fear… a flood of emotions washed over her at once.
She shoved Izar away, grabbed the nearby quilt and wrapped herself in it, shrinking into the corner of the bed. Her silver-gray eyes were full of guardedness and utter embarrassment, and she was still trembling.
Izar let out a breath, slumping back a few steps and leaning against the wall, not caring about his own appearance at all.
“Just now… what was that…” Rhea’s voice was hoarse, trembling as though she’d just survived a disaster.
“It was a side effect of the earlier potion… It… went much further than I expected.” Izar explained tiredly, avoiding her accusing gaze. “The one I just gave you is a tranquilizer—it’s temporarily suppressed the symptoms. However…”
He paused, feeling he had to tell her the truth, even though it might make things worse.
“But… there’s no real antidote for this potion. These… uh… abnormal urges and physical reactions, according to my… um… data, might recur intermittently over the next three days.”
“But the target of each episode should only be me, since I’m the one who gave you the potion. As long as we keep a certain distance, you should be fine and can function normally around others…”
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