Chapter 48: Chapter 48 A Seed Of Betrayal
Phoebe’s POV
Four days had passed since I’d locked myself away in this room, hiding from the world after Perry nearly strangled me to death. The king hadn’t bothered to check on me since he’d dumped me here once Helen confirmed I’d survive.
Mason kept bringing meals, but I played dead every time she knocked. I’d stashed the poison deep in the bookshelf, tucked behind some romance novel I’d been reading before my life turned into a nightmare.
But I couldn’t dodge Mason forever—she showed up three times daily like clockwork.
"How’re you holding up?" Mason’s eyes lingered on the bandages wrapped around my throat, her face twisted with sympathy. "God, I’m so sorry this happened to you."
"He was having nightmares. He didn’t mean it." The words tumbled out before I could stop them. Why the hell was I defending him?
Mason’s expression shifted, like she thought I was in denial about how screwed up my situation really was.
"Hey, don’t worry. We’ll get through this mess together." She perched on my bed’s edge and squeezed my hands, her warm brown eyes locked on mine. "I noticed the king hasn’t visited. But he’ll probably show up eventually."
"Spill everything." I needed answers. "Tell me what you know."
Mason understood exactly what I meant. She laid out the whole conspiracy to destroy the king.
After losing her entire family, some Movement leader had recruited her. He’d gotten her this palace job with one mission—bring down Perry.
"The king’s a war addict. He’ll keep conquering until he owns everything, and even then he won’t quit. They call him the Mad King because he slaughtered his whole family, but it’s more than that—he’s got bloodlust hardwired into his DNA."
She explained how his endless wars left thousands dead, families shattered like hers. She was just one victim among countless others.
Her face crumpled with grief.
"I’m not some monster who wants people to die, but his existence means thousands more will perish. And for what?" Those sad eyes bored into mine. "Just to feed his sick craving for blood and more blood."
Silence stretched between us. My brain knew she was right.
Every word rang true. The world would definitely be better off without a king like Perry.
But my heart felt like it was being ripped apart. He was still my mate—we were bonded. No werewolf in history had ever murdered their other half. It was the ultimate betrayal.
And my father asking me to do this dirty work just because I could get close to Perry? It was another twisted way for Cameron to destroy me.
"My lady, please... I know this is huge to ask, but think about all the innocent people he’s killed."
"Why should I care? I don’t know them." The words came out harsher than I intended, and Mason’s face went white with shock. "But maybe I’ll do it because he hurt me," I added quickly, watching her shoulders relax slightly. "How many palace insiders are part of this Movement?"
Mason’s face tightened. She couldn’t blow other members’ cover. "Sorry, I can’t say." Her earlier comment had clearly spooked her, but she didn’t push for details.
The room fell dead quiet.
"Will you... actually do it?" Her voice barely rose above a whisper, like she was afraid of my answer.
"I’ll wait for the right moment."
That seemed to satisfy her.
Her grip on my hands tightened. "If you need anything—anything at all—just ask. I’ve got your back."
After she left, the emptiness hit me like a freight train. I stared down at my hands.
Her warmth still lingered on my skin.
When was the last time someone had touched me so gently? Talked to me without screaming?
——
Perry’s POV
"Reginald?" Timothy’s eyebrows shot up as he scanned the name. "Isn’t that your mate’s stepbrother?" He glanced at the king with curiosity.
Perry was in his usual foul mood—it had been a full week since he’d last seen Phoebe. His temper had turned vicious, and the warriors were walking on eggshells, terrified of making even the smallest mistake. Their fear was completely justified.
Even Flynn had given up trying to reason with him. He disagreed with Phoebe about many things, but watching Perry torture warriors was too much. He’d suggested the king visit her, but Perry had refused point-blank.
Though he’d never admit it, Perry blamed himself for hurting Phoebe. But he wouldn’t apologize—he’d learned long ago that sorry meant nothing.
In his past, apologies had never stopped the beatings. So he’d stopped saying the word entirely, and now he’d forgotten how to use it.
"Yeah." Perry watched medics carry away two warriors after training ended. Both had multiple broken bones because they’d hesitated to attack him properly.
These fighters would ship out to the front lines within a month, so they were getting intensive training before deployment.
But the results disappointed him. Some weren’t ready for war, especially the ones who held back during attacks.
Hesitation on the battlefield didn’t just cost you broken bones—it cost you your life.
Once these warriors left, a fresh batch of shifters would arrive for warrior training.
Most were rogues or packless shifters too broke to survive on their own.
Despite the danger, palace warrior pay was good enough to attract plenty of volunteers. They never had trouble filling quotas. Plus, it was in their nature to unleash their feral side regularly.
"He wants to join the palace warriors?" Timothy sounded incredulous. But there was Reginald’s name on the list of twelve hundred shifters signing up for the next year of training.
