Phoebe’s POV
I’d visited the palace once as a child, tagging along when my beta father traveled to Central City on business.
Back then, he showered with affection—the kind of father every little girl dreams of. Now I can’t pinpoint when everything shifted between us.
This place still takes my breath away. Massive structures rise before , every towering pillar carved with elaborate designs that seem to tell ancient stories.
Four main buildings dominate the grounds, just like my father explained during that long-ago visit.
The alpha’s castle commands the center stage, while the royal beta, royal gamma, and warrior quarters claim their own territories around it.
The entire complex sprawls across hundreds of acres—a city within a city, steeped in centuries-old tradition.
These buildings have stood unchanged for generations, their tiless architecture adding to the mystical atmosphere that hits you the mont you step through the gates.
Flynn leads toward the king’s palace now, and this single structure dwarfs the Obsidian Claw pack house a hundred tis over.
I trail three steps behind him, drinking in the surroundings. During my childhood visit, my father only showed the gamma palace and warrior quarters. This marks my first ti inside the king’s domain, and everything screams of power and majesty.
Under different circumstances—without this ss hanging over , without bone-deep exhaustion weighing down—I’d savor every detail. Instead, I wonder where I’ll be sleeping. Will the royal beta escort to the oga quarters? I wouldn’t mind. I’ve lived and worked as an oga since the alpha stripped my rank anyway.
"You’ll sleep here," Flynn growls, pointing to a door. His finger swings toward the adjacent entrance. "That’s the king’s bedroom. Don’t disturb him."
Flynn knows Perry well enough—right now, the king’s probably on the training grounds, using so unfortunate warriors as punching bags to work off his rage.
"Here?" I blink, disbelief flooding my voice. The room beside the alpha’s quarters... that’s ant for the queen.
Technically, I am the queen now. His mate. He marked , after all.
But swallowing that reality feels impossible.
"Yeah, got a problem with it?" Flynn’s eyes narrow to slits. He’d prefer stashing with the ogas, but housing the future queen in servant quarters would reflect poorly on Perry. Especially given my already questionable reputation.
I shake my head frantically, terrified of offending the royal beta. Still, unease churns in my stomach. "But... did the king approve this arrangent?"
"You’re wearing his mark. Everyone’s already heard about that dramatic ceremony marking. You’re the future queen."
Flynn’s voice drops to a nacing whisper, a cruel smile twisting his lips. "If you stay alive, and if the king decides to keep you."
I shudder at his words, and his smile widens. Good—I need to stop thinking about other n and focus on pleasing the king if I want to survive.
Personally, Flynn couldn’t care less about my feelings, but Perry complicated everything with his impulsive actions.
This isn’t Flynn’s first ti cleaning up the king’s sses.
"Listen carefully—I don’t give a damn about your pathetic obsession with Alpha Kevin, but don’t you dare show it in front of the king."
He knows Perry well enough to predict the explosion that would follow. Bad enough if the king only took it out on , but Flynn’s seen how the king’s violent tendencies make everyone’s job harder.
"I don’t care what you’ve done or what you plan to do. Just rember this—don’t cause trouble for the king, and keep him satisfied. That’s your only path to a decent life here. Consider it friendly advice."
His words hit like a physical blow.
The accusation about my supposed infatuation with Kevin shocks , but I understand where it originated.
The royal beta’s been fed lies—most likely the king too—about what really happened between Kevin and . And I have zero proof to contradict their version.
They’ve chosen their truth, and experience tells they’ll cling to it no matter how I defend myself.
So I lower my head and listen.
"Get inside," Flynn commands coldly, his brows drawing together when he sees how compliant I’m being.
I don’t need the instruction repeated, slipping into my room imdiately. Exhaustion weighs on every muscle, but I step back out almost instantly—I forgot sothing crucial.
"Royal Beta Flynn," I call as he starts to leave. "May I ask about using the kitchen?"
"For what?" His frown deepens. He just warned against causing trouble, and now I want to wander around the kitchen?
"I’m starving. Could I cook sothing?" I can’t rember my last real al.
Flynn doesn’t answer right away, seeming to weigh his options before speaking. "Soone will bring dinner to your room."
"Thank you." His offer to send food surprises , though I suspect he simply wants to keep out of public view. That suits fine.
I close the door behind , leaving him alone in the corridor.
——
Flynn walked toward the training ground where the king waited, his thoughts churning over the conversation.
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