FRAGILE

Chapter 25: I Can't Do It

Maximus stood by the door, watching the soft rise and fall of Levi's chest as his mate lay in bed. The sight should have brought him peace, but instead, a deep unease coiled in his gut. Levi's body had gone slack, and although he was out of the immediate shock from earlier, something still felt off.

Maximus stepped closer, his hand resting gently on Levi's shoulder. The Omega stirred slightly, eyes fluttering open. But when Levi looked up at him, something was missing. The brightness that had briefly flickered in his eyes the day before was gone. His blue eyes, once so expressive, were dull, vacant even. It was as if Levi wasn't truly there, as though his mind had retreated behind a wall that Maximus couldn't reach.

"Levi," Maximus whispered, his voice gentle, hoping to coax his mate back to him. "Can you hear me?"

Levi blinked, but his gaze remained distant. Slowly, he began to sit up, his movements stiff and mechanical, devoid of the warmth Maximus had grown accustomed to. Maximus furrowed his brow, a cold shiver running down his spine as Levi slid off the bed and dropped silently to his knees.

"Levi, no—please don't..." Maximus's voice cracked as Levi assumed the punishment position on the floor, his forehead pressed to the ground, hands behind his back in submission.

Maximus's heart clenched. This wasn't what he wanted. Levi wasn't supposed to be like this—so rigid, so broken. Maximus reached down and touched Levi's shoulder, his fingers shaking slightly as he tried to pull his mate out of the position, to guide him back into bed. But Levi remained unyielding, his muscles tense.

"Please, Master," Levi's voice was flat, devoid of emotion. "How may I serve you? I will do anything. I am 2197."

The words hit Maximus like a punch to the gut, the name—that number—still carrying the weight of everything Thomas had done to his mate. Maximus tried to lift Levi back into his arms, but the Omega resisted, pulling back sharply and repositioning himself on the floor.

"I will be better," Levi murmured, his voice shaking slightly. "Please, punish me if I am not. I must obey, I must serve."

The knot in Maximus's throat grew tighter. Levi wasn't responding to him anymore—he was responding to his training, to Thomas's voice still embedded deep within his mind. Maximus knelt beside him, his heart aching as he saw Levi's body trembling from the strain of the position. His chest, still marked with wounds, was pressed against the hard floor, reopening some of the barely-healed cuts.

Maximus couldn't take it anymore.

"No," he said firmly, his voice shaking with emotion as he gently pulled Levi back. "Not like this. You're not 2197. You're not his. You're Levi, my mate."

For a moment, it seemed like Levi might listen—his eyes flickered briefly with recognition. But then, just as quickly, the dullness returned. Levi rose mechanically to his feet, moving to tidy the already pristine room before finding a new mess that needed to be fixed. To be made suitable for his Master. His body was on autopilot, turning toward the nest they had built together. The scent of them, of home, still lingered in the soft blankets and pillows. But Levi's movements were stiff, devoid of purpose as he began to rip the nest apart.

"No!" Maximus called out, his voice breaking as he rushed forward. But Levi's hands moved swiftly, yanking the blankets from the bed, tearing apart the safe space they had created. Maximus watched, heartbroken, as his mate dismantled the sanctuary they had shared, throwing pillows to the floor and shoving the blankets into a pile by the door.

Levi's face was blank as he continued, his breathing shallow. He didn't seem to notice the damage he was doing—didn't seem to realize that with each motion, he was destroying something precious.

"Levi, stop!" Maximus's voice cracked, and he grabbed Levi's wrists gently, pulling him away from the nest.

But Levi didn't respond. He simply dropped to his knees once again, bowing his head low. "I am sorry, Master. The nest was not made properly. I will do better. Please, allow me to try again."

Maximus let out a choked sob, his heart shattering as he knelt beside Levi, trying to reach him through the walls that had been built so deeply inside his mind. "Levi, no. You don't have to—" His voice broke again, and he cradled Levi's face in his hands, forcing the Omega to meet his gaze.

But Levi's eyes were blank, staring straight ahead, unseeing. "I must do better," Levi whispered, his tone robotic. "I must serve."

Maximus's heart crumbled at the words. He had to break through this. He had to bring Levi back.

"Levi, please..." Maximus whispered, tears pooling in his eyes. He had never felt so helpless, so powerless to help someone he loved. "You don't have to serve me. You are not a tool. You are not 2197. You are Levi."

But Levi didn't respond, his gaze still distant as he remained perfectly still in the kneeling position. His entire body was stiff with the strain of staying upright, and Maximus knew that his wounds—both physical and emotional—were tearing him apart.

Maximus's own breath hitched as he stood up, pacing around the room as panic clawed at his chest. He had no idea how to fix this. Every word he spoke seemed to bounce off the walls of Levi's mind, never reaching the broken Omega trapped inside. His wolf howled in pain, desperate to help his mate, but even that primal part of him didn't know how to pull Levi out of this spiral.

Suddenly, Maximus stopped. He had to be strong for Levi—he had to be the Alpha, not just for his pack but for his mate. Levi needed structure. Levi needed to be pulled from this mechanical state and brought back to himself, even if it meant pushing him in ways that Maximus was afraid to do.

With a deep, steadying breath, Maximus returned to Levi's side, kneeling down in front of him. He placed a hand gently on Levi's shoulder, pulling the Omega's attention back to him.

"Levi," Maximus said softly but firmly, "I am your Alpha. And I'm giving you an order."

Levi's body stilled at the word, the conditioning making him instinctively more receptive. His eyes lifted slowly, focusing on Maximus for the first time since the spiral had started.