Chapter 131: Chapter 131 An Unnatural Sickness
Phoebe’s POV
Heat. That’s what dragged me from sleep—an overwhelming, suffocating warmth that made my skin sticky with sweat.
My eyes snapped open, and I knew instantly what was wrong.
Perry had me trapped in his iron grip, his muscular arms locked around my body like steel bands. The man was a walking furnace on a normal day, but this? This was different.
This was dangerous.
I twisted in his hold, pressing my palm flat against his forehead. His skin burned beneath my touch—not the usual heat of his shifter body, but something fierce and wrong.
Fever.
My heart stuttered. Shifters didn’t get sick. They especially didn’t run fevers. And someone like Perry, with royal blood coursing through his veins and healing abilities that put other shifters to shame? This shouldn’t be possible.
I must have missed it last night when he crawled into bed. He’d kept his distance then, hadn’t pulled me close like usual. Now I understood why.
"Perry." I shook his shoulder, but he didn’t stir. Sweat beaded across his brow, and his face twisted in pain even in sleep.
I tried again, harder this time. Nothing.
Panic crept up my throat. I needed Marcela.
Getting free from his dead weight proved harder than expected. Even unconscious, the man was built like a mountain. His arm alone felt like it weighed a ton, and by the time I finally wiggled free, I was gasping.
The infirmary lay quiet in the pre-dawn darkness. I found Marcela curled up in one of the back rooms, looking peaceful until I shook her awake.
She jolted upright, blinking in confusion. "What’s wrong? What happened?" Her gaze swept over me, taking in my frantic expression. "My lady, it’s barely sunrise. Give me five more minutes."
She started to collapse back onto her pillow, but I grabbed her wrist and hauled her upright.
"Okay, okay! I’m awake." She stumbled out of bed, snatching her jacket as I dragged her toward the door. "Are you hurt?"
I shook my head and pulled her down the corridor toward my bedroom. When we slipped inside, Marcela’s eyes went wide at the sight of Perry sprawled across the bed.
"My lady, we can’t disturb the king while he’s sleeping," she whispered, terror written across her features. "What if he wakes up in a bad mood?"
I climbed onto the bed and pressed my hand to his burning forehead again, then gestured for her to do the same.
Marcela looked horrified. "Are you sure?"
I nodded urgently.
With obvious reluctance, she crept closer and placed her palm against his skin. Her expression shifted immediately. "He’s burning up." She stared at me as I nodded vigorously. "The king is sick."
I slipped off the bed and scribbled a quick note, pressing it into her hands.
Marcela read it and sighed. "Sometimes shifters can get sick too. It’s rare, especially for someone with such strong bloodlines, but it happens. Usually there’s an underlying cause."
She explained her treatment plan, but I wanted to help.
"Actually, you’ve learned to make this particular remedy. You handle the concoction while I work on bringing his fever down."
I nodded and hurried back to the infirmary to gather the ingredients.
———
The rebellion should have been crushed weeks ago, but the rebel packs had dug in deep, their fortress proving harder to crack than expected.
Timothy had requested reinforcements from the palace, and they were en route. Still, it would take another week to break through the rebels’ defenses.
To make matters worse, the Valerium Kingdom had caught wind of the civil war and launched their own attacks, forcing Timothy to split his forces between two fronts.
"Royal Gamma Timothy!" Turner sprinted toward him, chest heaving. "We found it. The secret entrance."
"Where?"
They’d been searching for the hidden passage ever since Viola had mentioned it. Her past involvement with Kevin had given her fragments of information about the pack’s secrets, though she hadn’t known the exact location.
Finding it would change everything—no more waiting for backup, no more prolonged siege.
"Excellent work." Timothy clapped Turner’s shoulder. "Outstanding job."
"Credit goes to my mate," Turner said firmly.
"Of course. I’ll make sure the king knows about both your contributions. You’ll both be well rewarded."
"Thank you, Royal Gamma."
That night, Timothy led a hundred elite warriors through the secret passage. They couldn’t wait for tomorrow’s reinforcements—this opportunity was too good to waste.
"Half of you take the fortress. The rest come with me to the pack house. Our targets are Alpha Sterling and Reginald. No survivors."
