Chapter 163: Chapter 163 The Weight Of Unspoken Words
Phoebe’s POV
I jolted awake, a sharp gasp escaping my lips. My head pounded as I tried to make sense of my surroundings. The haze in my mind slowly cleared, and fragments of last night crashed back into my consciousness.
Allen had slipped me wolfbane—that potent alcohol designed to intoxicate shifters. He’d given it to me as a shot, sending it straight into my bloodstream. The effect hit me like a freight train, but there had been something else... a euphoria I’d never experienced before.
For those fleeting moments, I’d felt weightless, free from every burden that crushed my spirit. It was the first time I’d felt truly happy since Perry had marked me as his mate.
But even that joy paled in comparison to what I’d felt last night. It had been intoxicating.
I tried to move, but something heavy pinned me down. Dread pooled in my stomach as I looked down to find one of the warriors sprawled naked across my body. Not Allen.
Then the memories hit me like a sledgehammer. Face after face, cruel laughter echoing in my ears. They’d passed me around like some twisted game, each one taking what they wanted, reducing me to nothing.
The shame burned through me like acid. I could barely breathe as I remembered the most horrifying part—how my body had betrayed me, responding to their touch in ways that made me sick.
"No, no. That can’t be right..." I pressed my palms against my ears, trying to block out the memories. My breathing came in ragged gasps as I took in the scene around me.
They were all still asleep—the warriors, Allen, even the two other women. We’d all been nothing more than entertainment for them, passed around like objects for their pleasure. There was no difference between me and those prostitutes.
Bile rose in my throat. I shoved the warrior off me and scrambled for my clothes, but my dress lay in tatters. I grabbed whatever fabric I could find to cover myself and fled the room.
I rushed to my bedroom, only to find Perry on his way out.
"Phoebe?" His arms wrapped around me as I collapsed against him, sobs wracking my body. He quickly pulled me inside, away from prying eyes.
"There were more, Perry. Not just Allen... the prostitutes, the warriors... so many of them... the wolfbane." The words tumbled out incoherently. How could I make sense when shame consumed every part of me?
"Calm down, Phoebe. Just breathe."
"I DON’T WANT TO CALM DOWN!" The roar tore from my throat, and his hand cracked across my cheek.
I couldn’t figure out what had Perry so twisted up inside, but he’d been brooding for days now. His mood had grown darker, more intense, and it was driving me crazy.
That’s why I’d been hounding Timothy relentlessly, trying to get answers about what went down in those meetings.
I shoved another note in front of his face—the same question I’d been asking for days.
"Phoebe," Timothy groaned, looking exhausted. "I have no clue. Hell, I should be asking you why Perry is acting like someone pissed in his coffee. He should be on cloud nine after the union, right?" He slowed his pace so I didn’t have to jog to keep up.
I finally lowered the crumpled note I’d been waving around like a flag. This whole situation had me spinning in circles, and I was no closer to answers.
I mouthed my next question, the words I was too afraid to voice aloud.
*Is it because of me? Does he regret it?*
"Don’t be ridiculous." Timothy flicked my forehead, making me wince. "That’s not even possible."
I fell silent, doubt still gnawing at me.
"Look, I’ll ask him, okay? But don’t get your hopes up—you know Perry. Getting him to explain anything is like pulling teeth. He’ll probably just ignore me."
I mouthed a quick thank you.
"Save it. I said I’d ask, not that he’d actually answer." He shrugged, then ruffled my hair before taking off. "Gotta run!"
——
Later that morning, after the senior meeting wrapped up, Timothy cornered Perry about his foul mood. Just as he’d predicted, the king stonewalled him completely.
"Nothing’s wrong."
Perry picked up his pace, forcing Timothy to jog alongside him. This whole routine felt painfully familiar.
"You’re making her worry sick. She’s been terrorizing me for answers about whatever’s eating at you. She’s stressed out of her mind. How can you do that to her?"
Perry stopped dead in his tracks. Timothy nearly crashed into him, his reflexes barely saving him from a collision.
"What now?" Timothy muttered, watching Perry sink into another one of his brooding sessions. Then, without warning, the king stalked off again. "I’m losing my damn mind!"
——
**Perry’s POV**
That night, I returned from the war council later than usual. The meeting with the senior warriors had dragged on, and I’d told Phoebe not to wait up for me.
When I entered our bedroom, she was already asleep—or so I thought.
I approached the bed carefully, reaching out to touch her face. The moment my fingers made contact with her skin, her eyes fluttered open.
Those sleepy, vulnerable eyes made my chest tighten. She pressed my hand against her cheek, seeking comfort.
"Sleep, Phoebe. We’ll talk tomorrow." Tomorrow, I’d finally tell her the truth about what was tearing me apart inside. If I kept bottling this up, I’d destroy us faster than any fertility issues ever could.
