Perry’s POV
"What did you say?" I narrowed my eyes at my royal beta, releasing my grip on his throat just enough so he could draw breath. The pressure around his neck eased slightly.
"Pregnant... Phoebe is pregnant..." Timothy gasped, sucking in air desperately. He’d thought death was coming for him in my hands. From the way I stared at him now, he might have preferred it—my glare burned like hellfire itself.
"No. She’s not."
"Marcela confird it," Timothy managed, still tense beneath my loosened but present grip. One surge of rage and I could snap his neck in an instant. "Phoebe’s pregnant and she’s in terrible shape. We have to get her out."
My expression remained stone. Whatever thoughts churned in my mind stayed locked away.
I went still, and Timothy didn’t dare move—afraid I’d decide he was making too much noise and end him right there.
Slowly, I climbed off him and settled beside my royal gamma.
Silence stretched between us before I finally spoke. "How bad is her condition?"
"Marcela says she needs imdiate treatnt. Without her wolf spirit, her body can’t heal like ours. If we leave her there, she dies. The baby too."
Timothy sat up, studying . My face gave nothing away, but sothing flickered in my gaze. This reality was a hard pill to swallow.
"So what’s your move, Perry?" Timothy pressed carefully. "She’s carrying your child. I went to the dungeon to understand what really happened, and if you think it through, you’ll see she stopped poisoning you long ago. Her heart changed. She screwed up, but so did you."
"Leave."
Timothy had expected to lash out again, but my quiet command told him he was nowhere near getting through to .
Still, Phoebe’s life hung in the balance. He couldn’t abandon her. "What about Phoebe?" he asked from the doorway, keeping his distance to avoid another strangling.
He wasn’t sure he’d survive a second round.
"Leave."
I gave him nothing, and Timothy knew better than to push for more answers—I might explode again.
——
He left the room and headed straight for the dungeon to check on Phoebe’s condition. Marcela remained at her side, tending to her, but Phoebe looked worse than before.
"Can we move her now?" Marcela asked, fear creeping into her voice. She didn’t understand why Phoebe was imprisoned here or what had sparked the king’s fury. What cri could this woman have committed to earn such wrath?
But if Phoebe stayed in this place, Marcela couldn’t save the baby. The mother would die too. A miscarriage on top of everything else would only drag Phoebe toward an early grave.
"No," Timothy answered, looking troubled.
"What do you an no?! She’s carrying the king’s child! Do you want them both dead?!" Caron exploded.
The king had kept Phoebe close all this ti, and Caron had assud he cared for her. Apparently not enough to forgive her betrayal.
"Shut up!" Timothy roared at Caron. "This ss exists because of you! Keep your mouth shut or I’ll sew it closed!" The stress was eating at Timothy—he didn’t need Caron’s lectures on top of everything else.
Caron’s mouth opened, but wisdom prevailed. He clamped it shut and sulked in the corner.
Once Timothy was sure Caron would stay quiet, he turned back to Marcela.
"What else do you need? Tell the guards everything, but she can’t leave the dungeon." Timothy had inford Perry of his efforts to help Phoebe, and the king hadn’t forbidden it.
He had to make the best of this impossible situation.
But he couldn’t overstep by removing Phoebe from the dungeon.
Timothy felt Caron’s burning stare and pivoted toward him. "Take him to the interrogation room. I’m going to have a nice chat with him."
There would be nothing nice about that conversation. It sounded more like a threat.
Two guards imdiately complied, dragging Caron away. The forr beta offered no resistance as they hauled him off.
The silver bracelet still prevented him from shifting, so two guards were more than enough to handle him.
"Royal Gamma Timothy, I don’t think I can save the baby if you insist on keeping her here. This place isn’t suitable for her condition." Marcela shook her head. "I don’t even think I could save the baby in the infirmary. This is hopeless."
Timothy pressed his lips together, pressure mounting. He was out of options. "How long can you keep both the baby and mother alive?"
Marcela wanted to tell him it was impossible, that they needed to move Phoebe imdiately if they wanted any chance of saving them both.
But Timothy saw it coming and cut her off. "Tell how long."
"Half a day, maximum."
Reviews
All reviews (0)