Chapter 258: Chapter 258 Call Me Love
Perry’s POV
The mate bond between us pulsed like a second heartbeat. Every flutter of Phoebe’s distress hit me like shattered glass in my chest. She tried to hide it—God, how she tried—but I felt everything. Her pain. Her guilt. The raw wound of our lost child that she carried like a secret shame.
She thought she was protecting me by staying silent.
She was wrong.
The invisible wall between us wasn’t small. It was massive, built from grief and unspoken words, and it was driving me insane. Every smile she gave me felt fragile. Every laugh carried an echo of what we’d lost.
I couldn’t take it anymore.
"Ready?" I moved behind her, sliding my arms around her waist. My lips found the sensitive spot on her neck, the one that always made her breath catch.
Her laugh drifted through the air—pure music, even tinged with the sadness she couldn’t quite hide. The sound went straight through me. Every noise she made lit me up from the inside, reminded me she was here, alive, mine.
"Yes." She spun in my arms, eyes bright with forced enthusiasm. "I want to see the Valerium Kingdom. I’ve never been there. What’s it like?"
I pulled her closer. Our foreheads touched. "Mya Kingdom’s better."
"Of course it is." Her smile turned genuine. "You’re the king here. The Valerium Kingdom will thrive under your rule too."
Instead of answering, I claimed her mouth. Tasted the sweetness that was purely her. The mate bond hummed between us, electric and demanding. This was what I lived for—these moments when the wall cracked, when she was just mine.
"It’s been forever since I saw Timothy," she said against my lips. "Is he doing okay there?"
The spell shattered.
My hands tightened on her waist. "Don’t bring up other men while I’m kissing you."
The irritation in my voice was sharp. Here I was, drowning in the feel of her, the bond singing between us, and she was thinking about another guy.
"Don’t be silly." She giggled, the sound driving me further toward madness. "He’s your Gamma."
"He’s still a man." My voice came out rougher than intended. "And I’m still kissing you."
Without warning, I scooped her up. Her startled cry echoed around us as she locked her legs around my waist. My hands settled possessively on her ass, gripping tight enough to leave marks.
I carried her to the table. Set her down on top. Kept my mouth fused to hers like she was oxygen and I was suffocating.
"So you don’t like it?" she teased, nipping my lip. The tiny bite sent fire straight to my groin.
"Hate it." I pinched her waist, making her gasp. The moment her mouth opened, I dove deeper. Tasted her heat. Her sweetness. The part of her that belonged only to me. "Don’t talk about it."
Our hands moved frantically. Desperate. Hungry. The temperature between us spiked. Her scent—arousal mixed with that unique sweetness that was purely Phoebe—filled my lungs.
Then someone knocked.
"Can I come in?" Marcela’s voice cut through our haze.
If she’d been a shifter, she would’ve scented our desire thick in the air. Would’ve known exactly what she was interrupting.
"W-wait!" Phoebe gasped, breathless. She pushed at my chest, though every cell in my body screamed to ignore the interruption.
"Ignore her," I growled against her throat.
But Phoebe couldn’t. The guilt hit her immediately—keeping the healer waiting while we lost ourselves in each other. I felt her internal struggle through the bond.
"If you’re busy, I can come back," Marcela offered. Her tone was awkward. "But everyone’s waiting."
We were supposed to leave for Valerium Kingdom. The weight of duty pressed down on us both.
When I tried to lift her skirt, my fingers grazing the silky skin of her thigh, Phoebe shoved me back harder.
"Perry!" she hissed, slapping my hand away.
I froze. "Perry?"
The name hit wrong. All wrong. Perry was what friends called me. What business associates called me. What people who didn’t matter called me.
Not her.
Never her.
"Yes, why?" Pink stained her cheeks. She realized she’d never called me that before. In her mind, I’d always just been there—solid, constant, hers.
"Call me something else." The demand came out sharper than intended.
"What? That’s your name."
"That’s what friends call me." I shook my head. "You’re not my friend."
She laughed, surprised by the possessiveness in my voice. "What do you want me to call you then?"
She hopped down from the table, tilting her head back to look at me. Even now, flushed and breathless from our interrupted moment, she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
"Think of something special." My voice dropped lower. "Something that’s only mine."
"Like what?" Her brow furrowed in concentration. "Honey?"
I wrinkled my nose. "Too sweet. I’m a king."
She rolled her eyes. "Sweety?"
"Sounds like sweaty."
"Gross!" She cracked up, mimicking my horrified expression.
"Try again."
"I don’t know!" Her frustration was adorable. "I’ve never given anyone a nickname before."
The admission hit deeper than it should have. She’d never been close enough to anyone to create that kind of intimacy. Never trusted someone enough to make them special.
Until me.
"What about..." She bit her lip, thinking. "Love?"
The word went through me like lightning.
I leaned down, captured her mouth in a kiss that tasted like possession and promises and forever. "Yes," I murmured against her lips. "Like that."
But even as I held her, even as she melted against me, I could feel it—the shadow that followed us everywhere. The grief she carried. The fear that loving me, calling me by that name, might somehow jinx what we’d rebuilt.
She didn’t know that I felt it all.
And she didn’t know that in Valerium Kingdom, where love was forbidden and mates were shared like property, that simple word—love—would become the most dangerous thing she could call me.
