Phoebe's POV
The agony coursing through my body told me everything I needed to know—Perry was dying.
The warriors could sense it too, that crushing pain radiating through the bond, which drove them to burst into the room. They found their king unconscious, a blade buried deep in his chest.
I sat there, staring at him without a flicker of emotion crossing my face. I might as well have been gazing at the ocean instead of my dying mate.
What they couldn't understand was that I felt every bit of his torment. The mate bond stretched taut between us, forcing me to experience his suffering as if it were my own.
The only difference? I wasn't the one bleeding out.
——
The warriors wasted no time summoning Marcela to assess the king's condition, but the chest wound ran too deep. All she could do was stem the bleeding temporarily.
They rushed Perry to the hospital, where shifter doctors fought to save his life. Against the odds, they succeeded.
