**His Mercy Tastes Like Hunger**
**Chapter 185**
**The Fury Of A King**
Fiona felt a heavy weight in her chest at the mere thought of abandoning Reginald, especially to go to Allen. The sting of betrayal was still fresh, like a wound that refused to heal. Reginald, however, was growing impatient, his voice a harsh reminder of the urgency of their situation.
“Go, Fiona. We can’t let him die, or we’re dead too!” His groan sliced through her hesitation, a desperate plea that demanded action.
“But…” Her voice trembled as she fought against the rising tide of anger within her. “I don’t want to go to him! I refuse to check on him! I can’t bear to see him or touch him! I won’t!” The words spilled out, fueled by a mix of fury and self-preservation.
“Fiona!” Reginald’s voice was sharp, cutting through her defiance. She flinched at the intensity of his command. “You need to check on him now. If he dies, we die with him. I need to know our chances!”
His words hit her like a physical blow, igniting the worry that had been simmering beneath the surface. She felt trapped, torn between her loyalty to Reginald and her deep-seated resentment toward Allen.
With a heavy heart, she forced herself to rise, each step toward Allen feeling like a betrayal of its own. The old bastard lay sprawled face-down, his breath shallow and labored. His leg was bent at a grotesque angle, a clear sign of a break.
If no one intervened to reset it properly, he might limp for the rest of his life. Part of her felt a twisted satisfaction at the thought—better yet if he stayed disabled or simply died.
After a moment of hesitation, she knelt beside him, her heart racing as she assessed the situation. Once she confirmed that the old monster would survive, she returned to Reginald, her heart heavy with the burden of her findings.
“I can’t reset his leg. I don’t know how, and trying might just make it worse,” she admitted, the truth spilling out even though she wouldn’t have attempted it, even if she could.
“No. Let him limp. He deserves it after what he did to you.” Reginald’s eyes remained closed, but she could feel the tension radiating from him. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, the warmth of his presence a small comfort amidst the chaos. Tears streamed down her cheeks, a release of all the pent-up emotions.
“Thank you…” Her voice trembled, choked with sobs that wracked her body.
For a moment, she had thought Reginald had grown indifferent, but his words shattered that doubt, revealing that he still cared deeply for her.
“Don’t cry. I need you strong. You’re the only one who can move—can you find our men? We need someone to help us. We can’t stay exposed like this. Our warriors should be close. It’s almost time for the meetup.”
Fiona looked around, disoriented. She didn’t recognize this place, and after the landslide, she was unsure of their exact location.
At least this area hadn’t suffered the worst of the devastation. In the distance, she could see a wall of earth, a small hill—evidence of where the landslide had struck hardest.
“I’ll try…” She wiped her tears away, determination replacing despair. “I’ll be back as fast as I can.” With resolve, she stood, ready to leave.
“Fiona.”
“Yes?” She turned back, expecting some urgent need, but his voice softened, laced with concern.
“Be careful.”
Those simple words wrapped around her like a warm blanket. A smile broke through her tears. “I will. I’ll come back with backup.”
—
I attempted to speak, to form the words so he could read my lips, but he turned away, scanning the crowd of warriors with a fierce intensity.
“Samuel! Justin!”
The two men emerged from the throng, dropping to their knees before the king, their faces pale with realization. They had rushed over the moment Perry’s furious voice rang out.
They knew they were in deep trouble.
“How dare you bring the queen here?!” Perry’s voice was a low growl, and my heart lurched with fear. I grasped his arm as he moved toward them, panic rising within me. What was he planning?
I caught a glint of claws extending from his fingers, a warning that sent chills down my spine.
No!
Just then, Fiona returned, flanked by Joe and Upton, the twins from her old pack, Crimson Fang. They had narrowly escaped the landslide by arriving late. Relief flooded through her as she spotted them—they had been watching over Reginald’s mother and her brother, Draven.
Their delay had been fortuitous, saving their lives when Reginald’s mother and Draven were too exhausted to continue.
“Over there,” she pointed toward Reginald and Allen, still in their same positions. “We need to get them somewhere safe before the royal warriors track us down.”

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