Perry’s POV
She flinched again. I caught that reaction. It happened every ti I raised my voice or made even the slightest aggressive move.
The problem was simple - I had no clue how to handle Phoebe. Gentleness wasn’t in my vocabulary when violence flowed through like second nature. The right approach? Hell if I knew.
My rage served as my shield, and I refused to lower it for her. It clung to like a second skin, and stripping it away felt impossible.
Still, watching her cower from left unsettled.
Usually, I thrived on fear. I loved seeing opponents shake in terror, convinced I’d tear them to pieces. That power rush felt intoxicating, addictive even.
But this woman changed everything. For the first ti, her fear didn’t satisfy . I wanted her to stop recoiling from my touch, my words. I wanted her eyes on .
The sensation disturbed , yet I couldn’t reign myself in. Might as well ask a wolf to shed its coat.
"I want to go back to my bedroom," Phoebe finally managed, her voice strained. "But I don’t know which way to go."
I pushed open the infirmary door and found Helen in a panic over Phoebe’s absence.
Relief flooded her features when she spotted the young woman behind .
"Thank the heavens! I only stepped out briefly to gather more dicine, but you’d vanished when I returned."
She pressed her hand to her chest, trying to steady her racing heart.
"I’m sorry for worrying you," Phoebe whispered. Guilt colored her tone. She’d probably figured out Helen was the palace healer.
Helen brushed off the apology with an impatient wave. "Co here, lie down. Let examine you." Her gaze flicked to , clearly hoping she hadn’t overstepped. I stayed silent, my attention locked on my mate.
Seeming to take my silence as permission, she began checking Phoebe thoroughly. "She’s fine. Just needs rest. She can return to her room, but I’ll monitor her later to be certain." Helen directed her reassurance more at than her patient.
I nodded and dismissed the healer with a gesture. She practically fled, moving as quickly as possible.
Once we were alone, I moved to the bed and settled on its edge.
I placed my hand on her thigh, preventing her retreat.
"Are you scared of ?" I asked. I ant to sound gentle, but even to my ears, it ca out like a threat. Frustration gnawed at .
Phoebe’s head dropped. She didn’t dare respond. Smart girl probably knew her answer wouldn’t please .
My annoyance spiked. I wanted to grab her chin again, force her to et my gaze, but the scratch from yesterday’s encounter stopped . Instead, I cupped her face with both palms, careful not to inflict more damage.
"I told you to look at when I speak to you." I tried - really tried - but my voice erged as a growl anyway.
Phoebe’s eyes went wide. Her body went rigid, but she obeyed. She stared into her own reflection in my blue eyes. Now she seed to notice their color.
"Are you scared of ?"
"Yes." The answer ca out barely audible.
I’d expected it, but irritation still flared. I couldn’t help glaring, which only made things worse.
"Why?"
Phoebe struggled not to look away, knowing it would anger if she broke eye contact while I spoke. But the effort was clearly torture.
I probably looked ready to strangle her, then had the nerve to ask why she was frightened?
How could she possibly explain that?
Phoebe swallowed hard. I wouldn’t let this go without getting my answer.
"Because you look like you want to kill ..." Phoebe finally spoke, her voice thick and rough with dread.
"I don’t want to kill you! I wouldn’t be alive right now if I wanted you dead!" I roared, then caught my mistake. Anger at myself and her crashed together. "I will not kill you."
Even that statent sounded threatening. Phoebe didn’t know how to respond. She bit her lip in distress, her entire body tensing. I felt every bit of it.
Finally, I dropped my hands and leaned back, giving her space. She visibly relaxed.
"I will not kill you," I repeated, this ti forcing my tone smoother. "Whatever you do, I won’t kill you - unless you betray ."
"I won’t..." Phoebe said, dropping her gaze since she couldn’t bear looking at directly.
Thankfully, I let it slide.
"I don’t care how you feel about that alpha, but I won’t tolerate you acting on it. I don’t want to hear his na from your lips. I’ll overlook everything else. Understood?"
By ’everything else,’ I ant the rumors about how Phoebe had supposedly chased after the alpha, wanting him to fuck her.
I’d investigate further. Sothing felt off about those rumors, and Timothy would have answers within days.
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