Chapter 164: Chapter 164 A Truth That Shatters
"You’ve secured what you were after. Now deliver what I’m owed," Reginald declared to the royal beta Allen that afternoon, fresh from spending time with his mate.
Fiona had become a complete disaster. The tears never stopped flowing. She refused food, rejected sleep, and devoted every waking moment to sobbing.
Reginald found himself reluctant to return to his chambers now. Her constant wailing disrupted his rest and sleep schedule, forcing him to waste time consoling her.
He’d struck her face the previous day when she’d screamed at him directly—and it worked. The yelling ceased, leaving only her relentless weeping.
"Absolutely. I never break my agreements. No need for concern on that front."
"Good. What’s the timeline?"
Allen considered this briefly. "Seven days."
"Perfect."
Reginald’s smile reflected his complete satisfaction.
"One more thing—could I borrow your mate again? It would really help things go smoother. She performed exceptionally."
Allen flashed him a lustful grin. "A bit rigid at first, but once we got her warmed up, she was absolutely incredible."
——
**Perry’s POV**
Sleep had eluded me entirely. I remained awake, waiting for Phoebe to stir, and when she finally did, I found myself wishing she could rest longer—gathering strength before I shattered her world.
Phoebe’s eyes fluttered open, immediately recalling my promise from the night before. I had something to tell her.
Her hands reached up, framing my face, her gaze asking the question her lips couldn’t form.
"I’ll explain everything, but you must understand—regardless of what happened, you’re the only one I want." I pressed my lips to her palms as Phoebe nodded.
Her agreement came so easily. She’d been desperate to understand what had been tormenting me all this time, completely unaware of how completely the news would devastate her.
Throughout the endless night, I’d searched for the perfect approach, the gentlest way to deliver this blow.
But despite every attempt, the right words remained elusive. How could they exist? Even the most beautiful poetry couldn’t shield her from this heartbreak.
"How do you feel about adopting a child?"
I needed to test her reaction first. Confusion creased Phoebe’s brow. ’Why?’
"Just tell me your thoughts." I refused to elaborate.
Meanwhile, Phoebe’s heart hammered violently. Something deep inside seemed to recognize what was coming.
’Tell me.’ Her fingers traced my cheeks, maintaining a calm facade while a tempest built within her, ready to detonate. ’Tell me.’
"You’ll never be able to carry a child, Phoebe. Not without risking your life."
She already knew. From the very beginning, when Marcela had acted so strangely about her request to learn fertility potions from the healer. The knowledge had been there all along.
"Phoebe, don’t torture yourself with this. Don’t let it consume you. I don’t care about some imaginary child that doesn’t exist. I don’t want it. I only want you."
I told her not to worry about children, yet here I was—the issue had plagued me for days, making me distant and cold toward her.
How could I ask her not to worry when it was already destroying me?
’That’s why you’ve been avoiding me?’
"No!" I snarled. This was exactly what I’d feared. She was misunderstanding everything.
’Please, just leave me alone...’
Phoebe moved with lightning speed. She bolted from the bed and fled to the bathroom, locking herself inside while I pounded on the door from outside, demanding she emerge.
But how could she face me?
She would never have a child?
Devastated couldn’t begin to describe what Phoebe was experiencing. She felt transported back to that dark place where hope didn’t exist.
"Phoebe, come out. We need to talk." I hammered the door relentlessly. "Come out now, or I’m tearing this door apart."
That wasn’t a threat—it was a promise. I would do exactly that. My voice remained eerily calm and controlled.
"We have to discuss this."
What more was there to say? Phoebe needed time to process her thoughts and sort through her emotions, but I wouldn’t allow it.
Silence stretched between us. Everything went completely quiet, but in the next instant, the door exploded from a devastating kick, hanging uselessly from its hinges.
I stood there, fury blazing in my eyes. For a brief moment, Phoebe glimpsed the Mad King lurking within me, but when I approached and pulled her into my arms, she knew she was protected.
"Don’t run from me. Never flee from me like that, and don’t hide your pain. I wasn’t upset about the news—I was upset because I knew it would hurt you. And it does hurt you. I considered keeping it secret, but I knew you’d hate me even more for that."
I wasn’t wrong to think that way. No matter how excruciating the truth was, Phoebe would always choose it over lies.
Still, that didn’t make it hurt any less.
Eventually, Phoebe couldn’t contain it anymore. She sobbed violently against my chest while I held her with crushing intensity, trying to prevent her from completely falling apart.
"I love you, Phoebe. I don’t care about children. I only want to spend every remaining breath with you beside me."
My words provided some comfort, but she couldn’t stop thinking: How would we solve this problem?
This was only the beginning of disaster once people discovered her condition.
