Chapter 90: Chapter 90 The Kings Firstborn
"This situation is terrible," Timothy responded to Flynn’s inquiry.
"How’s Perry doing?"
The royal beta’s forehead creased with worry. "If you’re planning to share bad news with Perry at this moment, I’d strongly advise against it." Flynn shook his head firmly. "Now isn’t the time."
Right on cue, another crash echoed from Phoebe’s bedroom.
"I assumed there wasn’t anything left for him to demolish," Timothy winced.
"He’s already punched through to the adjacent room, and now he’s tearing apart his own quarters."
"Good lord!" Timothy rubbed his chest anxiously. He doubted he could confront Perry during this peak of rage, particularly with this news. He couldn’t predict how the king would respond.
"So what did you discover during your visit to her cell?" Flynn asked with bitter sarcasm. If the choice were his, he’d want that woman executed. A death sentence would be fitting. Unfortunately, the decision wasn’t his to make.
"She’s expecting," Timothy announced bluntly, unsure how else to phrase it.
"What?!" Flynn spun around and grabbed his shoulders. "Don’t mess with me—this isn’t amusing."
Timothy scowled. "I’m not trying to be amusing. I’m hardly in the mood for jokes either." How could he be so thoughtless as to joke with Flynn in such circumstances?
"Then what exactly do you mean she’s expecting?"
Timothy shot Flynn a withering look for the foolish question. "They were intimate, frequently. The scent of sex that clung to Perry every morning always made me lightheaded—don’t pretend you haven’t noticed."
Flynn folded his arms across his chest, clearly irritated by Timothy’s tone, but Timothy ignored it and spoke his mind.
"Do you think this is another one of her schemes?"
"What are you implying?"
"She becomes pregnant now—how convenient when everything’s falling apart. She probably believes this pregnancy will save her from execution."
Timothy blinked at this theory, then grew annoyed. "She’s not that manipulative."
"How can you claim that when she’s been poisoning Perry without anyone’s knowledge?"
Timothy confronted him directly.
"Gut feeling." Timothy had to acknowledge he lacked solid proof to defend Phoebe, but his instincts told him otherwise. He trusted his intuition—that’s what brought him to the dungeon.
Look—if Timothy hadn’t visited the dungeon, Phoebe might be dead already, and now his instincts urged him to protect her.
Damn it all.
"She’s not a schemer."
"I won’t continue this conversation if you keep ignoring what’s right in front of you."
"Sometimes the truth isn’t visible."
Flynn fell silent after that, because Timothy was skilled with words. But now they faced a massive problem—how to inform Perry about the pregnancy.
"Let’s go inside. We’ll confront him together. At least we’ll have better odds of surviving if we stick together."
Flynn clapped Timothy’s shoulder. "Good luck. I’m not going in there to get myself killed." With that, Flynn turned and left.
"Hey, where are you going?! How am I supposed to tell Perry about this?!" Timothy called out in frustration, but Flynn kept walking.
"If you can’t bring yourself to say it, then don’t. Nothing good will come from Perry learning about it. Besides," Flynn turned back to face Timothy, "I doubt a child born from a wolfless shifter will be strong enough to inherit the throne."
"You’ve crossed the line, Flynn," Timothy snarled, but the royal beta seemed indifferent as he continued his retreat.
"Handle it yourself, but if you want my opinion, I’d recommend staying silent."
Timothy watched Flynn’s retreating figure, standing there for several moments before deciding his next move.
But the answer was clear—he had to inform Perry about what happened.
"I genuinely feel like I’m about to die..." Timothy sighed heavily and steeled himself to enter the destroyed room.
Just seeing the room’s condition made the royal gamma’s heart pound violently. "Here goes nothing..."
——
**Perry’s POV**
Timothy stepped through the doorway and spotted the massive hole I’d punched through to the adjoining room, where I continued demolishing everything within reach in my own quarters.
It had been ages since I’d last spent time in this room, since I usually passed my nights with Phoebe.
"Perry," Timothy called out cautiously.
——
"What’s wrong with her? How is she? Why hasn’t she regained consciousness yet?" Cameron bombarded the new palace healer with questions.
"She’s extremely weak—there’s little I can accomplish," Marcela responded. She attempted to remain patient with Cameron, but this man was beginning to grate on her nerves. "I’ve explained that she lacks her wolf spirit, so she can’t heal like normal shifters. She’ll need considerable time before she can wake up."
Cameron muttered curses under his breath, continuing his complaints about why they hadn’t moved Phoebe when her condition was so dire.
"She’ll recover, won’t she?" Cameron finally settled down, leaning against the bars, trying to get as close as possible to his daughter, though it was agonizing to see her in this state.
She appeared ghostly pale, even in the dim lighting.
Her body was wrapped in blankets, her hair stuck to the side of her face. Still, anyone could see she was far from well.
"I’m uncertain. She’s incredibly weak," Marcela admitted. She was also frightened, because regardless of everything else, Phoebe was carrying the king’s firstborn.
