Phoebe’s POV
"Royal beta Flynn, why don’t we wait until the king is awake and then ask him about what actually happened?" Marcela’s voice trembled with fear—fear for my life.
"Leave, Marcela," Flynn snapped, his patience wearing thin. His piercing stare locked onto the healer’s eyes, ensuring she grasped the gravity of the situation.
Marcela hesitated, torn between duty and compassion. Her gaze flickered toward as I remained curled on the bed, clutching my chest against the searing pain. But defying Flynn’s command wasn’t an option.
"Please, don’t make a rash decision," she pleaded before reluctantly stepping toward the door. The soft click of it closing behind her felt like a death knell.
Now it was just Flynn and .
His footsteps approached the bed, each one deliberate and nacing. When he stopped beside , his contemptuous stare made my skin crawl.
His hatred for wasn’t new—I’d always been nothing more than a burden to Perry in his eyes. But now I’d proven myself worse than worthless by attempting to poison the king.
Not only that, but I was the reason Perry had abandoned his royal duties to play house with at this beach retreat.
And then I’d tried to murder him.
If the warriors hadn’t discovered Perry’s critical condition in ti, they’d be planning his funeral right now. All because of .
A woman with no power. A rejected mate. A walking curse.
Superstitious or not, I brought nothing but misfortune to Perry.
"You should have killed yourself instead of trying to kill him." Flynn’s voice dripped with disgust as he looked down at struggling to breathe. "You’re worthless. No one will mourn your death. Stop being a burden to the king."
His hand shot out, fingers tangling brutally in my hair. I squeezed my eyes shut and trembled as he yanked my head back.
An hour ago, when Perry collapsed into my lap, blood pooling on the floor, I’d felt nothing. But now the emotions crashed over like a tidal wave—overwhelming anguish, like a dam bursting inside my chest.
"I don’t want to do this, but you left with no other choice." Flynn’s eyes narrowed to slits. "You need to disappear so the king can return to his duties."
——
Perry’s POV
The agony faded, leaving suspended in absolute nothingness.
But within that void, I glimpsed sothing extraordinary—a magnificent white wolf. Her ethereal beauty took my breath away, her coat pristine as fresh snow. She lay curled on black tile, looking fragile and lost.
As I drew closer, she lifted her head and studied with curious eyes.
A white wolf...
She was breathtaking.
Yet sothing was wrong. Weakness radiated from her small fra, and when I looked closer, I spotted the injury—a wound circling her neck, barely visible unless you were near enough to see.
I reached out to touch her, but she vanished instantly, taking the dark room with her.
My eyes snapped open to find myself staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. The sharp bite of antiseptic and disinfectant assaulted my senses, making wrinkle my nose in distaste.
A groan escaped as I forced myself upright. An IV line ran from my hand to a drip bag beside the bed.
I frowned and yanked the needle free, then attempted to stand. Searing pain exploded through my chest, buckling my knees and leaving gasping.
Another groan as the mories flooded back.
Phoebe.
What had happened to her? Where was she now?
She’d probably be devastated knowing I’d survived.
Fighting through the pain, I hauled myself off the floor and stumbled toward the door, where two warriors stood sentinel.
"My king?"
Their shock was evident. "You need to stay in bed. I’ll fetch a doctor."
"Where is Phoebe?" I had no intention of returning to that hospital bed. I needed to know where my mate was, how she was handling what had transpired.
"She is..." They exchanged uncertain glances, clearly unsure whether revealing the truth was appropriate. But no one had ordered them to keep secrets from .
"Speak!" My patience evaporated.
"She’s still at the beach house..." The warrior’s hesitation was palpable. "That’s what we heard..."
"What do you an by that?"
——
Flynn poured whiskey with shaking hands, desperately trying to steady his nerves. He needed to believe he’d made the right choice.
This was necessary. For Perry. For the kingdom.
He’d done what needed to be done.
So why did anxiety claw at his insides? If this decision was correct, why did he feel like he’d committed murder? Nothing made sense.
He drained the glass and imdiately refilled it.
"Calm down. Just calm down. You only need to explain this to Perry. He’ll understand. Hell, he’ll probably hate her even more when he learns she tried to kill him."
Flynn drumd his fingers against the table, his entire body feeling sick.
Phoebe’s terrified expression when he’d handed her over to Reginald would haunt him forever.
But this was the price he had to pay.
"It’s fine. Everything’s fine." He scrubbed his face with his palms, but his eyes widened when Perry’s scent reached him monts before the king appeared in the dining room doorway. "What are you doing here? You should be in the hospital!"
Flynn hadn’t expected this confrontation so soon. He’d planned to visit the hospital after collecting himself, thinking he had more ti to organize his thoughts.
"Where is she?" I demanded. I’d already checked our bedroom, but Phoebe wasn’t there. The warriors stationed around the house were different from the ones I’d brought—they had no answers.
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