Chapter 36: Chapter 36 A Crack In The King
Phoebe’s POV
Once I reached the bedroom, I collapsed onto the bed and slammed my fist into the pillow, fury coursing through me.
In my mind, I pictured it was Perry’s face, though I could only dream of such defiance. One real blow against him would earn me a shallow grave.
But the rage burned inside me anyway.
That bastard trusted everyone else’s lies over my words. Experience had taught me a harsh lesson - no matter what I said, it wouldn’t matter. He’d already chosen his truth.
Defending myself would only make things worse.
Yet this crushing weight settled in my chest, like a stone pressing down on my lungs. I couldn’t shake it. I fought back tears, but they spilled down my cheeks anyway.
So when Mason arrived with two omegas to clean the disaster in my room and bathroom, I yanked the blanket over my head and faked sleep.
If they were shocked by the destruction, they kept quiet about it. They worked fast and disappeared.
Later, Mason returned with food, took one look at my unchanged position, and left without a word.
——
Perry’s POV
Her scent drifted faintly into his bedroom - their rooms shared a wall, mirror images of each other.
He gripped the papers in his hands, scanning them repeatedly. Something complex flickered in his electric blue eyes as he reread her final letter, her face haunting his thoughts.
The anguish in her gaze, the way she’d fought back tears - it seemed real. But he couldn’t force himself to trust her.
For three straight days, he avoided her completely, which sent his mood spiraling into hell. Even war reports couldn’t lift his black temper.
They’d seized one of Valerium kingdom’s three major cities. A massive victory that demanded celebration, yet Perry felt nothing.
He ordered Flynn to send celebration funds to the frontline warriors. They’d earned it. But the king refused any palace festivities.
The elders stayed silent - they’d learned their place since his coronation.
After a week without seeing her, Perry grew unbearable.
"Go see her already. I don’t give a damn what you do, just go. You’re impossible to deal with," Flynn snapped.
The king had been tearing into anyone who so much as breathed wrong around him.
"Shut your mouth!" Perry roared at his royal beta.
He’d just dismissed every high-ranking official from the morning briefing early. The meeting had been cut short because their endless complaints made his skin crawl.
"You obviously want her. You brought her here but won’t claim her or make it official, even though everyone knows she’s your mate." Flynn shook his head in disgust. "What the hell do you actually want?"
Perry used to have clear goals, definite endpoints for everything. With Phoebe, nothing made sense. He didn’t even know how to be around her.
Fear was his tool for controlling people, but the thought of her being afraid of him made him sick.
He didn’t want to control her either.
The problem was she wouldn’t talk to him. She’d tried, but his patience ran thin too quickly.
"Go see her," Flynn said, taking a deep breath. "At this rate, your temper’s going to destroy the entire kingdom."
"Let it burn then."
Flynn was ready to rip into the king for that reckless comment when Timothy entered the throne room. He raised an eyebrow at the royal beta, sensing the thick tension filling the space.
"What’s going on? Did I miss something?" He looked between Perry and Flynn. "Well, I’ve got the information you wanted."
Perry straightened.
Timothy had spent over two weeks investigating the Obsidian Claw pack incident, digging into what really happened to Phoebe there. Whether the rumors Flynn had collected held any truth.
"You won’t believe this..." Timothy made a dramatic sound as he revealed what he’d discovered in the Obsidian Claw pack.
——
Phoebe’s POV
I had no idea how long I’d been unconscious, but when I woke up, my head spun violently. I groaned, my stomach twisting in knots.
Then I remembered - I hadn’t eaten anything. My body felt like paper, and I could barely stand when I stumbled out of bed toward the bathroom.
Nausea hit me hard.
My legs wobbled from weakness. Between refusing food, crying myself dry, and beating that pillow senseless, I’d pushed my body past its limit. My vision blurred.
This was bad, especially for someone used to starvation.
Just as I was about to collapse, strong arms caught me. I didn’t need to look to know it was Perry. What did he want now?
"Go away," I whispered, pushing weakly against him. He didn’t budge. "Go away." Desperation crept into my voice, but Perry remained unmoved.
Before I could speak again, I doubled over and retched. Nothing came up - my stomach was empty - but I kept heaving and gasping. My throat burned, and bitter bile coated my tongue.
Perry’s eyes went wide. His instincts probably screamed at him to shove me away, but when he saw my pain, he cursed under his breath.
"Fuck! Did you have to puke on me?!"
I wanted to remind him that I’d told him to leave, but he’d ignored me. Those words stayed locked in my head - I’d never dare speak to him like that.
I expected him to curse me out, maybe hit me, then storm off. Instead, he swept me up in his arms and rushed me to the bathroom. He lifted the toilet seat and let me finish being sick there.
I was grateful, and it took several minutes before the nausea passed. When I turned around, he was already pulling off his shirt.
"What?! I’m not wearing a puke-covered shirt! Don’t read into it!" Perry snapped at me.
