Chapter 122: Chapter 122 The Price of Treason
Perry’s POV
Phoebe received all the medical care she needed at the hospital. Her condition remained critical, and despite Lynn’s best efforts, it wasn’t nearly enough.
Reginald had managed to slip away, though his warriors lay dead. A massive hunting party was tracking him down now.
None of that mattered to me. I stayed by my mate’s side, refusing to sleep. Marcela kept insisting it wasn’t healthy, but I ignored her warnings. The healer was too terrified to push me further.
Phoebe had bitten through her tongue—the wound ran deep. She couldn’t speak, which only deepened my despair.
Even without the injury, she wouldn’t want to talk to me.
How long before I’d hear her voice again? Maybe never?
I shut my eyes, then gazed at the night sky as it lightened. Dawn was breaking. Another day meant Phoebe had been unconscious for three straight days.
"Wake up, please."
I’d never begged anyone this much in my life. When my father tortured me, I begged him to stop once. When I realized it only made him crueler, I stopped begging altogether.
But with Phoebe, I found myself pleading repeatedly. I couldn’t stop myself. I even started praying again—anything that might bring her back to me. I needed my mate. Nothing else mattered right now.
——
Marcela traveled back and forth between the hospital and the beach house, caring for Flynn as well.
Sometimes she’d slip up and use his former title, which made Flynn’s face darken with rage. But when she apologized, he’d wave her off.
Flynn barely spoke anymore. Most of the time he sat completely still, like he wasn’t even alive.
He remained motionless in one spot for hours, resembling a statue.
"You need to eat something, or your healing will take forever." Marcela set a food tray on the table.
She pitied the beta, but after learning from the warriors why the king had punished and demoted him, anger flared in her chest.
How could someone be so cruel as to separate mates? Especially the king’s mate.
"You said my legs are useless. What’s the worst that could happen?" Flynn continued staring outside. The sky had turned ominous—a storm was brewing tonight.
"I’m sorry," Marcela apologized, glancing at his bandaged legs. "But your legs could get much worse. You might need amputation if they don’t heal properly."
Finally, Flynn turned his attention to the healer and somehow started laughing, as if she’d told him the funniest joke.
"What did you say? Amputated?" He laughed until tears formed at the corners of his eyes. "You’re really funny, Marcela. Have you ever seen a shifter get amputated?"
There were a handful of warriors who’d lost limbs in battle, but they could tell those stories with pride. They’d lost body parts fighting—something they could brag about.
For Flynn, it was different. He’d lost his legs because he’d committed treason.
Yes, that was right. He had committed treason. Perry was being merciful by not killing him outright or cutting him apart piece by piece, like he’d done to other traitors in the palace.
He hadn’t even thrown Flynn in the dungeon.
Flynn still got to stay in this bedroom with a comfortable bed.
It could be called mercy from the king, but all Flynn wanted was for Perry to kill him immediately.
He wished Perry had let his beast take control and finished him off, instead of leaving him alive to carry this humiliation.
"Flynn, you need to live."
"For what?" Flynn glared at Marcela. "You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re not even a shifter."
As a shifter, you lived with your pride. Flynn had none left.
"And you, as a shifter, don’t even understand how important the mate bond is. How could you do that to the king? You separated destined mates, and for what? You only caused more harm than good." Marcela was upset. She knew she was being too harsh with Flynn, but she didn’t care anymore.
She wanted this man to stop thinking only about himself.
"You’re too stupid to think that getting rid of someone else’s mate would solve any problem. If anything, it only makes everything worse."
Marcela furrowed her brows. "I’m not a shifter, but even I know how important the mate bond is for shifters. Why don’t you understand that?"
"Because that woman will bring nothing good to this kingdom, and as king, Perry should put the kingdom first before anything else."
"The only thing you can think about is the kingdom, which is admirable in a way, but have you ever considered that Lady Phoebe might bring out the best in the king?"
"How?" Flynn narrowed his eyes. "She doesn’t even have her wolf spirit. She’s incredibly weak, and all these problems came from her pack. She’s bad luck. Even if she bears children, they’ll be weak with a mother like her."
Now Marcela understood why the king had asked her not to reveal anything about Phoebe’s condition—how difficult it would be for her to conceive again, and how it would endanger her life.
