Chapter 87: Chapter 87 The Dungeons Bitter Truth
"How’s his condition?" Flynn questioned Timothy as he drew near the royal gamma. Chaos had erupted throughout the palace while they hunted down those connected to the Movement.
Perry had subjected Cameron to torture until he broke, revealing details about the Movement. One could only imagine the ordeal required to make a seasoned beta finally crack.
"Stay away from him. I doubt he’s mentally stable enough to tolerate your blunt remarks right now."
Timothy shot Flynn a look, meeting his glare. "What? That’s solid advice since you rarely filter what comes out of your mouth."
At this moment, Perry was ransacking Phoebe’s quarters, turning everything upside down. From what Timothy had discovered, two poison vials were hidden in the luggage Phoebe had packed for their trip to the Crimson Fang pack.
The palace’s new healer had verified that both bottles Phoebe carried contained lethal toxins.
This discovery shattered her claims of never wanting to harm him. What reason would she have for carrying poison if she harbored no murderous intent toward Perry? The logic didn’t hold.
Though Timothy had noted the vials remained unused, it could simply mean Phoebe hadn’t found the right opportunity yet.
That left Timothy with no counterargument.
"Where are you headed?" Flynn inquired as Timothy began walking away. From within Phoebe’s chamber, the sound of shattering objects continued. The king was destroying everything in his fury.
"To the dungeon."
Flynn’s eyebrows shot up, his expression questioning Timothy’s sanity. "You realize Perry is unhinged right now, and you’re planning to visit her?" He could guess Timothy’s intentions.
"Something doesn’t add up."
"Plenty doesn’t add up. I warned you both she spelled trouble, but you ignored me. Now look where we are."
Timothy’s eyes narrowed, unwilling to endure lectures at a time like this, though Flynn made valid points. Without Helen’s suspicions and her subsequent murder for what she knew, they would never have uncovered the conspiracy to overthrow the king.
Had they delayed any longer, the poison would have taken effect on Perry, and by then, intervention might have been impossible.
Yet as far as Timothy could tell, Perry showed no signs of illness. No symptoms of poisoning had manifested. Though it was slow-acting, the dosage appeared too minimal to register.
Still, Timothy needed to question Phoebe for answers.
"Don’t go, Timothy. If Perry discovers this, we can’t predict his reaction." Flynn doubted their reasoning would penetrate Perry’s current rage.
Beyond that, he had torn Mason’s body to shreds, forcing the warriors to collect her remains—a sickening sight.
Even battle-hardened fighters found the scene revolting.
"No, this is necessary." Timothy remained resolute, then shifted into his beast form and headed for the dungeon to confront Phoebe.
——
**Phoebe’s POV**
Sharp pain in my lower abdomen jolted me awake. I curled up on the frigid floor as my mind struggled to piece together recent events.
My chest throbbed as though someone had struck me with tremendous force, despite no visible wounds.
Gradually, memories returned. My eyes widened as fear crept through me while I surveyed my surroundings.
I sat up but immediately whimpered, clutching my stomach as stabbing pain made me dizzy.
I was alone in what appeared to be a dungeon.
No—this was definitely a dungeon. I’d been imprisoned in one before at the Obsidian Claw pack.
My throat felt parched, and my body trembled from cold. I had no choice but to wrap my arms around myself since my cell contained nothing for warmth. No blanket, no bed, nothing.
"In the end, he discarded you."
I startled at the voice. Whipping my head toward the sound on my left, I spotted an elderly man curled on the floor. His injuries were severe, his healing struggling to mend the damage, but I recognized him instantly.
"Dad?" My voice came out raspy, as if I hadn’t spoken in ages.
A mocking smile curved his lips. "You still address me that way."
I averted my gaze, staring into the darkness instead. The cold was unbearable, and through the small window of my cell, I glimpsed the black sky. Night had fallen, meaning I’d been unconscious for at least six hours.
"I heard what transpired with you. You should have fabricated a story, since the king was prepared to absolve you."
Cameron must have grown bored to initiate this conversation with me, considering he’d avoided me for years and treated any interaction with his daughter as sacrilege.
I offered no response, keeping my eyes fixed on the night sky. My thoughts drifted elsewhere—to the swing in the backyard. In my mind, I was there, feeling the breeze on my face instead of trapped in this cramped dungeon with my father.
"You’ve forgotten how to lie effectively. You used to excel at deception. I nearly believed you countless times."
Cameron regarded his daughter with a melancholy smile. "I wish you had never transformed."
"I never transformed, but you did."
