Chapter 200: Chapter 200 The Cost Of Desire
Fiona’s body felt weightless, as if she were drifting rather than walking. Her mind had retreated somewhere far away, disconnected from the pitying stares around her and Reginald’s concerned touches.
When had everything spiraled so wrong?
Maybe it started when she pushed her father to join the Movement—all so she could be near Reginald. She’d harbored feelings for him for years, and when neither found their destined mate, she’d believed fate meant them to be together.
Her crush began in childhood.
She first met him during her father’s visit to Obsidian Claw pack. Reginald was beta Cameron’s stepson, arriving with his stepsister. He carried himself with indifference, but sadness lingered in his gaze. She remembered Kevin, the alpha’s son, lashing out at him once.
Reginald’s eyes had burned with murderous intent, yet he’d restrained himself.
Later, when Kevin mocked Fiona, Reginald intervened. He warned the alpha’s son against taunting another alpha’s child, threatening to inform alpha Sterling.
Kevin retreated.
Reginald probably forgot that moment, but it carved itself permanently into Fiona’s heart. Her love bloomed from that day.
Yet love couldn’t fill the hollow ache consuming her now. It couldn’t erase the agony of losing everything through her own selfish desires.
She’d persuaded her father to alter their pack’s destiny, to join the Movement and rebel against the king—all leading them toward destruction, just so she could have Reginald.
"I’m selfish. I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have done it," Fiona whispered.
She thought she was thinking privately, but she’d been muttering throughout their journey, earning pitying glances from the other warriors.
"Look at me now. What did I gain? I got nothing I wanted. Everything’s gone. I lost it all."
Annick gazed at Fiona with compassionate eyes. "You haven’t lost everything, dear. You have your mate, your child, and your pack members. We can rebuild," she said softly.
"Child?"
Fiona met Annick’s gaze, then looked down at her flat stomach. This memory remained hazy—she’d tried forgetting, but her body betrayed her.
She recalled Allen’s hands on her, him moving inside her, the crushing revelation that she carried his child, not Reginald’s.
Annick kept reminding her about the pregnancy, mistakenly believing Reginald was the father instead of Allen.
Suddenly, the fog lifted from her mind. Everything sharpened into focus as she surveyed her surroundings. The rage she’d been suppressing erupted.
"Mom, what are you doing? I told you to stay away from her," Reginald snapped with irritation. Annick always mentioned the baby, thinking it would anchor Fiona to reality.
But it achieved the opposite effect.
Reginald resented his mother’s failure to understand his words, her stubborn belief that she was helping.
"Stay away from her."
"Why? I’m only..."
"Stay away from her!" Reginald snarled at Annick, who retreated after cursing her son for humiliating her publicly.
"Fiona."
"The baby—I don’t want it." Fiona stared at Reginald with terror and fury.
"Shh. Stop." Reginald instructed the others to continue ahead while he calmed Fiona.
"I don’t want it."
"Stop it, stop it, stop it!" Reginald’s grip on her shoulders turned painful. He glared at Fiona, making her flinch submissively. "We won’t discuss this, understood?"
Fiona nodded, retreating back into her numb, colorless state.
——
**Perry’s POV**
The afternoon was perfect—a rare treat since I’d been able to join Phoebe in the garden. We strolled together in comfortable silence, soaking up the warm sunlight.
My mate looked stunning in her red dress that highlighted her hair. Her skin glowed, and a sweet smile played on her lips.
"Stop kissing me," Phoebe protested, having lost count of how many times I’d leaned over to steal kisses.
"Can’t. Can’t help it. If I had my way, I’d devour you completely."
She went speechless at my answer. She wrinkled her nose, and I leaned in to kiss her again. Everything she did looked like seduction to me.
This time, the kiss wasn’t just a peck. I pushed her down to the ground, my hands growing restless.
We’d been sitting under the wisteria tree, planning a picnic.
But I abandoned the food, seeking something that satisfied my deeper hunger. How could I resist when she was being so pliant?
Phoebe grew helpless as my hand slid up her dress, caressing her inner thigh until she became breathless. She fought me briefly at first, but once she felt my touch, it sparked the fire within her.
She wanted me. It had been too long—I’d been consumed by war preparations, and now that I touched her, she ached for me.
"You’re so eager," I murmured against her lips.
