Chapter 195: Chapter 195 A Taste Of Blood
Phoebe’s POV
The thought of Perry heading to the battlefield twisted my stomach into knots. I couldn’t shake the dread that something terrible might happen to him out there.
Sure, he was the king with elite protection, and Perry could handle himself better than most. But war was unpredictable. No one could promise complete safety when swords were drawn and blood was spilled.
"You don’t need to worry, my queen, I am sure the king will be fine," Rosa said, her voice gentle as she tried to ease my anxiety.
I’d just shared the news about his decision with them. It wasn’t classified information anyway—the whole kingdom would know soon enough, so telling my friends seemed harmless.
But Marcela and Rosa’s reassurances did nothing to quiet the storm in my chest. I needed my mate close, where I could see him, touch him, know he was safe.
When I searched the throne room and found it empty, I made my way to the war room. He was locked in strategy meetings with his senior warriors, planning their final assault on the Valerium Kingdom.
This battle would end everything. With Valerium on their knees, it shouldn’t take long for Perry to claim victory and come home to me.
"My queen." The guard dipped his head respectfully as I approached, offering a polite smile. "I’ll let the king know you’re here."
I shook my head quickly, pulling out my writing pad. *No need. I’ll wait.*
He tried to convince me otherwise, explaining how long the meeting might drag on if Perry didn’t know I was waiting. But I kept refusing. I wouldn’t dare interrupt something so crucial.
"Then let me grab you a chair," he said, already heading off before I could protest.
He returned quickly with a comfortable chair, and I settled in to wait. I didn’t mind the silence—actually, I cherished these quiet moments where I could just watch and absorb everything around me.
The war room overlooked the front garden, where warriors trained in the afternoon sun. Some fought in human form, others shifted mid-combat into their beast shapes. The fluid transformation never stopped fascinating me—the raw power, the seamless shift between forms.
Samuel and Justin had avoided punishment, thankfully. Initially, Perry wanted to reassign them after they’d put my life at risk, but I’d worked my persuasive magic—along with some very convincing bedroom activities—to change his mind.
I’d grown attached to them. Starting over with new guards felt impossible now.
Eventually, Perry caved. Timothy had been right about one thing: Perry would bend to my wishes more often than not. I was finally starting to believe it myself.
An hour crawled by before the meeting finally broke up. Elder Tricia emerged first, followed by several other council members.
I spotted Elder Augustus, who shot me a cold look before turning away to whisper with his colleagues. Whatever decisions had been made in that room clearly didn’t sit well with him, and his resentment toward me seemed to deepen with each passing day.
But I’d developed thick skin. His disapproval barely stung anymore.
Elder Tricia approached me with concern etched in his weathered features. "Are you waiting for the king?"
I nodded.
"He’s still inside. Good thing you’re here—he needs you. Please, calm him down."
My eyes widened in confusion. I wanted to ask what had happened, but decided against it. Better to see Perry myself and gauge the situation firsthand.
Once the room emptied, I slipped inside. The guard closed the door softly behind me.
Perry stood hunched over the strategy table, head down, shoulders tense. A massive chunk of wood had been torn clean off the table’s edge—fresh splinters scattered across the floor.
Even after all this time together, witnessing his raw strength still sent shivers down my spine. He could snap my neck without breaking a sweat if he wanted to. The thought should have terrified me, but instead it sent heat pooling in my belly.
He lifted his head when my scent reached him. His brow furrowed initially, but his expression softened when he saw the worry on my face.
In three quick strides, he had me in his arms. His mouth crashed against mine with desperate hunger, like he was trying to devour all his frustration through my lips.
I knew this side of him well—the barely controlled beast that needed an outlet. So I let him take what he needed, matching his intensity as best I could.
But then his teeth sank too deep into my bottom lip, drawing blood.
"I’m sorry." He jerked back immediately as I winced. "Let me get the healer."
He started pulling me toward the door, but I grabbed his arm and shook my head. *I’m fine.*
"No, you’re not." His thumb brushed the blood from my lip, eyes darkening with self-loathing. "I didn’t mean to hurt you."
*I know.* I rose on my toes to press a gentle kiss to his mouth. Perry had a habit of losing control when emotions overwhelmed him, but he’d been getting better lately. Fewer people ended up injured in his wake.
"The blood though..."
I guided him to his chair, gesturing for him to sit. He obeyed with a heavy sigh, but pulled me onto his lap the moment he settled.
*What happened?* I mouthed the question.
"Let me hold you like this for a while," he murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion.
