Chapter 52: Chapter 52 Ripping Out My Own Teeth
Phoebe’s POV
Tell him. Tell him. Tell him.
A tiny voice kept whispering in my head, urging me to spill everything to Timothy—the real story, the hell I’d been living through.
But like always, my throat seized up. I couldn’t get a single word out without my voice breaking. I despised myself whenever this happened.
It made me feel broken.
"Well?" Timothy waited, studying me intently. He caught how I was fighting to speak—my pupils dilating, my breathing turning ragged.
Timothy understood people. He’d commanded thousands of warriors, had to read them like books.
He’d marched into battle with them, so knowing the person whose life might depend on yours was essential. The people who’d stand beside you when everything went to hell.
"Easy now." Timothy shifted closer, settling next to me on the bed. His hand rubbed my back in slow circles, trying to steady me.
He’d witnessed this before with his soldiers—trauma from the front lines. A battlefield was where nightmares took shape and breathed. Sometimes their minds dragged them back to those moments, whether they wanted to go or not.
The same thing was crushing me now. I was drowning in my own words, desperate to push them out.
"No rush, take all the time you need."
Timothy’s voice anchored me. Not soft, but solid. That’s what I craved. The world felt like it was spinning, and his steadiness was the only thing keeping me upright.
"Breathe. Just breathe."
I followed his lead. God, I wished Perry knew how to handle me when words failed, instead of losing his temper and shouting.
I did what Timothy said, pulling air deep into my lungs.
It took forever before I managed to speak—maybe thirty minutes before I finally broke the silence.
"That’s not true... I never did anything like that."
My voice still shook, but at least the words came out. "That’s... not what happened..."
"Want to tell me what really went down?" Timothy searched my face for lies, for any hint that my breakdown was fake, but came up empty.
Either I was telling the truth, or I was one hell of an actress.
He seemed to believe the former. I didn’t strike him as someone who’d manipulate her way out of trouble.
Timothy kept his hand on my back, ready to comfort me if I started falling apart again.
"He..." I forced myself to continue.
I was shaking visibly now, tears spilling down my cheeks. I clenched my fists, fighting to keep the emotions from drowning me before I could get the words out.
But damn, it was agony! Like ripping out my own teeth!
I bit my lip and started rocking back and forth. I leaned into Timothy’s gentle touch as I struggled to tell him the truth.
"He... he raped me..." The words scraped out of my throat. "He did things to me... tortured me..."
I was babbling now, not even sure if Timothy could understand me because I kept saying the same things over and over.
It felt like every word in my head was vanishing, and in my panic to catch them, I just grabbed whatever I could find.
"He beat me... choked me... I wanted to die..." I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the memories, but that was a mistake.
In the darkness behind my eyelids, the world collapsed. Suddenly I was back in my bedroom at Obsidian Claw pack, tied to my bed after my suicide attempt, while Kevin used my body and called me every filthy name he could think of.
I jerked away when Timothy’s touch became too much. Opening my eyes, I put distance between us.
Thank God, the royal gamma got it. He stopped touching me and backed off, giving me space so I wouldn’t feel trapped.
"Take your time. I understand what you’re saying."
"My father... blamed me for my mother’s death... I wanted to leave. I planned to run."
My story jumped around like a broken record, forcing Timothy to piece together the fragments.
"They caught me. Made me an omega. They lied. They hated me. I’m cursed." I bit my lip and shook my head.
I couldn’t tell Timothy the vile things they’d said about me—it was too much. I could still hear their voices echoing in my skull.
"It’s alright..." Timothy showed incredible patience. He didn’t try to touch me again, just listened to my rambling.
It took about an hour before I could string together a complete sentence that made sense.
"You need to tell Perry this," Timothy suggested. "He’s got the wrong idea about you."
Then Timothy seemed to remember that his own report had caused Perry to misunderstand me. But in his defense, everyone had told the same story. He’d need to dig deeper, find people who weren’t under Kevin’s influence—though that would be nearly impossible since pack members had to obey their alpha, and defying orders meant physical agony.
"I can’t..." I shook my head, terror flooding my face. "He’ll... he’ll scream at me... get furious..."
Timothy sighed. I was clearly terrified of the king, which made sense. He knew how Perry operated—he didn’t have the patience to sit through my breakdowns and wait for me to find my words.
He would’ve exploded by now.
But before we could continue, Timothy suddenly snapped his head up, staring at the door.
I didn’t have his enhanced senses, so I had no clue Perry was approaching. I jumped when the king burst through the door, especially seeing the storm brewing on his face.
"What the hell are you doing here?" His razor-sharp glare fixed on his royal gamma, who just smiled back. "Get out."
Perry had forgotten that Timothy asked permission to visit his mate, so catching his scent made him rush over.
"Sorry, figured your mate could use someone to talk to," Timothy said casually, standing and clapping Perry on the shoulder. He whispered something so low only Perry could hear. "Don’t be too hard on her. I’ll fill you in later."
After Timothy left, Perry’s eyes locked onto me. "What did you do with him?"
