Chapter 76: Chapter 76 The Scent Of Poison
Phoebe’s POV
I nearly forgot just how much I adored being around children.
Growing up, I’d always craved a sibling—specifically a younger one. The idea of having someone to confide in, to share secrets with, seemed perfect.
But when Reginald and Viola moved in after Dad mated their mother, reality crushed those dreams.
Viola kept her distance constantly. She wanted nothing to do with me. Not mean exactly, but she’d wave me off whenever I tried entering her space, shutting me out completely.
Reginald, though... once I hit fifteen, his stares turned strange. His hands wandered where they shouldn’t. The way he looked at me made my skin crawl.
Back then, I couldn’t grasp what was happening. I stayed silent, hoping it would stop. But as months passed, I realized how wrong it all was and finally fought back.
That’s when everything collapsed. His lies, his violent attempt to force himself on me, and Dad choosing his mate’s side over mine—telling me to stop causing drama.
I’d never felt more abandoned.
Those years with Viola and Reginald around killed any longing I had for siblings.
But stepping into this orphanage brought those feelings rushing back, especially seeing the siblings who’d lost everything in the war.
The boy was ten, his sisters seven and five. Absolutely precious. The way he shielded them when I approached, positioning himself like a tiny guardian while they ducked behind him.
"What’s your name?" I stepped away from the king’s group—too many intimidating presences scaring the kids into hiding.
I didn’t want that kind of meeting. After spotting these three, I’d asked the guardian about them. She explained they were siblings who’d lost their father two years back, their mother during the youngest’s birth.
"Upton," he answered, eyes sharp but trusting enough to introduce his sisters when the guardian encouraged him. "This is Ruby and Joyce."
"They’re gorgeous," I said. "What game are you playing? Mind if I join?"
They were playing with a ball—hitting each other with it, then chasing whoever got tagged.
I remembered this game from childhood. Childish? Maybe. But I genuinely wanted to play.
Besides Upton and his sisters, about ten other kids were involved.
"You wanna play?" The others gathered around me. "But no shifting into your beast."
"Promise I won’t," I said, though shifting wasn’t exactly an option for me anyway. They didn’t need that detail.
The children huddled, debating whether to include me. They seemed wary rather than terrified—probably because they couldn’t sense any dominance from me. Hard to project power when you don’t have a wolf.
"Alright, you can play. Let me explain the rules," one boy said, launching into explanations I already knew. I listened anyway. "You’re the chaser. Here’s the ball."
Excitement bubbled up inside me. Holding that ball made me feel giddy. "I’ll count to twenty-five."
"Okay!" they chorused, scattering to find hiding spots while I turned my back, blocking their escape routes from view.
Pure joy. I’d forgotten why I came here in the first place. For the first time in forever, I felt free—like being a kid again.
Ridiculous behavior for someone my age, but I couldn’t stop myself. Running around without a care in the world made me feel truly alive.
——
Kevin had demanded stronger doses of the poison meant for the king, since the previous slow-acting formula barely affected him.
Now Mason carried several vials, making her jumpy around Helen, the healer.
"Why do I smell something odd on you?" Helen confronted Mason in the kitchen during a midnight snack run, just as Mason finished her shift.
"What do you mean?" Mason played dumb, but her heart hammered against her ribs. She prayed the healer couldn’t hear it. If Helen were a shifter, she’d definitely sense something wrong. "Are you saying I stink?"
She narrowed her eyes, feigning offense.
Helen remained unfazed, grabbing Mason’s hand and sniffing her fingers. Mason tensed.
"What are you doing?" She pulled back, frowning.
"I recognize this scent, but can’t place it."
"What scent? Chili? I just chopped some." Mason subtly withdrew her hand, then hugged Helen to defuse the situation. "Get some sleep, Helen. You look exhausted."
Helen left the kitchen, glancing back with that contemplative expression. She was still puzzling over the smell on Mason’s fingers, and knowing her, she wouldn’t quit until she figured it out.
The stronger poison had left its scent clinging to her. Other shifters might ignore random odors, but Helen was a healer—she’d identify it once she remembered where she’d encountered it before.
Panicked, Mason skipped returning to her room and headed straight for the warriors’ quarters to find Reginald.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Reginald hissed, scanning the area for witnesses. "I told you I’d come to you, not the other way around." His anger was palpable.
But Mason had no time for his tantrum, rapidly explaining what happened. Reginald’s eyes widened by the end.
"What should I do now?" Mason fidgeted nervously. "I’m scared. What if she remembers what that smell is? She’s a healer—she might recognize poison."
"Shut up and stop crying," Reginald snarled.
"I tried avoiding her, but you just gave me fresh bottles, and I’ve been sleeping with poison in my room. The scent must have soaked into me. She’ll know I’m hiding poison if she comes to my room."
"Don’t worry, I’ll handle this," Reginald assured her. "Now get back."
