CHAPTER 233: CARE ABOUT YOU

Chapter 232

Poppy

I’m so frustrated.

I can’t move forward with the ghost of Felix hovering around me like some chain I can’t shake off. Every time I start to breathe, to think maybe I can be happy with Isaac, there he is again. In the hallways. Outside class. At my dorm.

And today—furious—I see him standing in front of my dorm again.

Word has already spread through the academy like wildfire. "The Prince is chasing after the Longear," they whisper. Some say it’s romantic. Some say it’s pathetic. I don’t care what they call it. All I know is that it puts me in the worst possible position. It makes Isaac look like a fool.

I hate it.

Felix is ruining whatever good memories we might have once had, twisting them into something suffocating.

"Your Highness, what are you doing here?" I say, my voice sharp with the frustration I no longer bother to hide.

He looks so proud of himself, standing there like some knight bringing tribute, the wicker basket balanced in his hand. Fruit, bread, a bottle of wine peeking from the side. It would’ve been sweet, once. Before.

Now it just makes me want to scream.

"Poppy," he says warmly, like he’s my savior instead of my curse. "I thought you might like these. You’ve been working so hard."

I cross my arms, ears twitching with irritation. "Your Highness, do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?"

His golden eyes flicker, confusion touching them, but he keeps smiling. "I’m showing you I care."

He flashes that killer signature smile of his. Once upon a time, it would have made my heart race. Not now.

"I thought you’d like this," he says smoothly, lifting the basket.

"Remember you always said you wanted to try this wine?"

"I don’t want anything from you. We’re over. Nothing is going on between us, your highness."

He tilts his head, unbothered. "We’re just going through a rough patch."

"What about what I feel?" I demand.

"You’re just hurting right now. I realized I neglected you," he says, serious. Delusional.

I stare at him, baffled. He has four women orbiting him—beautiful, powerful, everything I’m not. Why me? Why can’t he let me go?

"Your highness, please," I whisper, my voice breaking. "I’m begging you. Stop this."

I curse the day I first saw him. Gods, if I could go back, I’d run the other way.

He steps forward. I step back. Too late. His arm snakes around my waist, crushing me against him, and his mouth slams onto mine. I shove, twist, push—but he doesn’t budge. Panic seizes me.

What if Isaac sees this?

And then—hands. Strong, sure, ripping me free.

In a blink, Isaac is there.

His fist crashes into Felix’s jaw with a crack that silences the courtyard. Gasps echo.

"No!" I scream, rushing forward. My voice is useless. My hands useless. Isaac shoves Felix back, readying another blow. Felix staggers, golden eyes burning with outrage.

The world blurs—then the guards are there.

Campus guards. The ones who never lift a finger when Longears are mocked or bullied. The ones who’ve watched fights break out without ever stepping in.

But this time—oh, this time—they surge forward, iron grips locking onto Isaac’s arms.

Because this time, it’s not just anyone. It’s theprince.

"Stop! Let him go!" I beg, clawing at their sleeves, stumbling as they drag Isaac back. My voice is drowned out by the whispers, the gasps, the students craning to watch.

Isaac’s glasses slip from his face in the scuffle. They hit the ground with a dull clink.

My heart shatters.

I dive, fingers closing around the bent frame, clutching it to my chest like it’s him. Like it’s all I have left.

A hand clamps on my wrist. Felix.

"Poppy—"

"Let me go." My voice is ice.

He hesitates, but his eyes search mine, golden fire flickering. And maybe—maybe he finally sees it.

Because he lets go.

***

Nima

"I heard about what happened. I’m sorry," I murmur to Poppy, who’s sitting stiffly at one of the cafeteria tables, wiping stray tears from her face with the back of her hand.

She doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she focuses on the food in front of her—methodically portioning it into neat little lunch boxes, one after another. Rice. Steamed greens. Grilled meat. Not much, but the way she packs it carefully, I can tell it matters.

Her silence is heavy. It makes my ears twitch.

Finally she exhales, voice low and hoarse.

"I have to go. He hasn’t eaten all afternoon."

For a moment I’m caught off guard. I’ve always thought of Poppy as confident, sharp-tongued, impossible to fluster. But right now, she’s just... human. A girl clutching boxes of food like they’re the only way she can help the boy she cares about.

Apparently, she really likes him.

"Let me accompany you," I say. The words leave before I can second-guess myself.

She makes a small, noncommittal sound—half acknowledgment, half dismissal—and pushes to her feet. I follow anyway, quickening my pace to keep up with her.

The walk to the dungeons feels endless. The air grows colder, the walls darker, and everywhere we go, eyes follow us. Students pause mid-step to whisper. Guards glance at us curiously. I feel restless under the attention.

Felix may be the prince, but it’s Poppy everyone’s talking about. The foolish Longear who dared to defy him. The greedy one. The shameless one. The girl who clings to a stag shifter while catching the eye of royalty.

I want to tell them to shut up.

It takes pleading. And bribery. Poppy’s voice trembles as she negotiates, offering up every coin she has, until the guard sighs and unlocks the heavy gate.

"Five minutes," he says.

We slip inside. The air is damp, heavy with stone and rust. The faint drip of water echoes in the silence. My fur prickles under my skin.

And then I see him.

Isaac.

He’s behind iron bars, slouched against the wall, shirt torn at the collar, hair falling into his eyes. His antlers look dull in the dim light. He raises his head at the sound of footsteps.

"Poppy?" His voice is hoarse, but the relief in it is undeniable.

Poppy rushes forward, dropping to her knees before the bars, pressing the food boxes through the gap one by one. Her hands shake as she does it. "Eat. Please. You haven’t eaten all day."

I stop a few paces away, lingering at the edge. This is their moment, not mine. I can’t intrude.

Isaac shifts closer, taking the box gently, his long fingers brushing hers through the bars. The way they look at each other makes my chest ache...and miss a certain panther.

"You shouldn’t be here," he says softly, though his eyes don’t leave her.

"I couldn’t not be," she replies, voice breaking. She reaches through the gap, brushing her fingers along his jaw.

He catches her hand and holds it there, against his cheek. His eyes close, like even that small touch is enough to carry him through the darkness.