Chapter 28: Chapter 28 The Price Of An Insult
Perry’s POV
"I had no clue her spice tolerance was that weak!" Timothy whined as I delivered a solid kick to his rear, sending him tumbling forward. Only his quick reflexes saved him from a face-plant, his palms hitting the floor to break his fall.
Across the study, Flynn remained absorbed in his paperwork, completely unbothered by the commotion. He flipped through documents despite the late hour, the moonlight streaming through the windows.
"How was I supposed to know? You never mentioned it—just told me to test her preferences."
Honestly, I had no way of knowing either. Our encounters had been brief, and she’d barely spoken during most of them.
Timothy continued his childish groaning, massaging his sore backside while shooting me a resentful glare from the floor. The urge to kick him again was strong, but I turned toward my royal beta instead.
"Found anything yet?"
Timothy’s attention shifted to Flynn too, clearly curious about whatever task I’d assigned.
"You only asked this morning—what did you expect?" Flynn didn’t bother looking up from his reading. "Nothing yet. Have some patience."
"Patience isn’t exactly my strong suit."
"What are you two discussing?" Timothy finally hauled himself up, though he wisely maintained his distance from me.
The late hour cast everything in soft shadows, starlight glittering through the window against the dark sky.
Flynn lifted his head at Timothy’s question. "Perfect. You can handle this since you’ve got so much spare time."
"I don’t have spare time." Timothy’s brow furrowed as he glanced my way. "I’m managing the Valerium conflict, remember?"
Flynn waved dismissively. "Perry wants intel on that woman. I’ve got basics, but he needs more."
Timothy looked between us. "What did you dig up?"
As Flynn shared his findings from the Obsidian Claw pack house, I grabbed a document from the desk and skimmed it. I didn’t interrupt their exchange—my silence gave Timothy permission to investigate further.
"How many sources did you use for this information?"
"Three, maybe four. All said the same thing."
Flynn shrugged carelessly. He’d disliked what he heard about Phoebe from the start, so when multiple sources corroborated the story, he’d considered it settled. In his mind, I should have rejected her immediately.
"You’re telling me you didn’t even try getting different perspectives? Just took their word at face value?" Timothy’s disbelief was obvious, and his expression irritated Flynn enough that he hurled a paper in the royal gamma’s direction. Timothy dodged effortlessly.
"They lived with her—what more could I do? Everyone said the same thing."
"If everyone’s saying identical things, doesn’t that strike you as suspicious?" Timothy looked smug.
"If you think you can do better, be my guest. I’m not wasting more time on that whore—"
But suddenly, Flynn collapsed, clutching his head in agony. Even Timothy, who wasn’t targeted by my fury, could feel the raw power radiating from me.
I was punishing Flynn through our pack bond, stretching it taut against his mind until the pain became unbearable.
Timothy pressed himself against the sofa as I rose to my full height and crossed the room toward my writhing beta.
Dropping to one knee, I seized Flynn’s throat. "Don’t ever call her that again. Understood?" I applied pressure to his windpipe, cutting off his ability to speak, so he could only nod frantically.
"I’m... sorry..." Flynn wheezed, but I didn’t release him immediately. I stared into his eyes, searching his very soul.
A moment later, I eased the mental pressure and loosened my grip on his neck.
"Good." I stood and walked out without another word, leaving the task squarely in Timothy’s hands.
——
Timothy’s POV
Once the king disappeared, I rushed to Flynn’s side. "You okay? That was terrifying."
I shook my head, shuddering. It had been ages since I’d witnessed Perry unleash that kind of anger on Flynn. He could be overwhelming when pushed too far.
"Fine." Flynn rubbed his throat gingerly. "I crossed the line."
He acknowledged his mistake, though I could tell he still believed the king was making an error with Phoebe.
"Yeah, you definitely did." I patted his shoulder sympathetically.
——
Viola’s POV
"What brings you here, Viola?" Helen asked when she entered the room and found me waiting inside. "Need something?"
"Yes, I’ve been feeling dizzy in the mornings. I was hoping you might have something to help." I smiled at the healer.
Helen returned my smile warmly. "Come, sit down. I’ll prepare something for you." She set aside the concoction she’d been making for Phoebe and rummaged through her drawer.
"She’s..." I didn’t finish my sentence, but my gaze lingered on Phoebe.
"Oh, rumor has it she’s the king’s mate. I don’t think it’s just rumors anymore—I saw her mark."
