Marked By The Mad King Alpha (Phoebe and Perry) novel Chapter 101

Chapter 101: Destruction From Within

Perry’s Perspective

I threw the last piece of meat to the ravenous wolves, watching with a grim satisfaction as they tore into it with savage hunger. The pack looked stronger now, their muscles flexing beneath thick, matted fur, a visual testament to their recent feasts.

They’d been gorging themselves for days, growing more formidable with every meal.

A sharp memory surged through me—finding this wolf pack during my first exile. Father had cast me into these very woods when I was barely a boy, unable to shift into my beast form, all for his cruel amusement. He wanted to see me suffer, to break me.

I followed the trail of the last wolf as it carried a hefty slab of meat behind an ancient oak tree. My chest tightened painfully when I caught sight of her—a pregnant female wolf, patiently waiting while her mate delivered the meal.

The sight pierced me like claws digging into raw flesh. My breath caught as memories slammed into me with brutal force.

My child. Gone.

Our baby, lost because of my mistakes.

I had buried this torment beneath layers of rage, wearing fury like a shield. But beneath that anger, a storm raged unchecked, tearing at my soul.

This quiet, intimate moment between mates shattered my defenses. My knees buckled, and I dropped to the forest floor, clutching at my chest as if trying to hold myself together. The crushing weight of reality pressed down, suffocating me, and I could no longer resist.

Truth battered my heart, breaking down every wall I’d built to protect myself.

The warriors standing nearby exchanged uneasy glances, frozen in place as their king crumpled, his face twisted in raw agony. None dared come closer—they all understood the danger of approaching him in such a state.

“Should we check on the king?” one whispered nervously to his companion.

Four men stood rooted to the spot, none moving.

“You go,” the second said hesitantly, though his feet remained firmly planted.

“Maybe we should call the royal gamma or beta,” another suggested cautiously.

“Good idea. Find Beta Flynn or Gamma Timothy,” a third said, urgency creeping into his voice.

One warrior sprinted off while the others remained, eyes locked on their suffering king. Suddenly, Perry shifted into his wolf form—a massive, imposing creature—and the men scattered like startled deer.

But instead of charging at them, the giant wolf dashed deeper into the forest’s shadows.

“What now?” the first warrior’s voice trembled with fear.

“Should we follow him into the woods?”

The others stared at him as if he’d lost his mind.

“Timothy!” Marcela’s voice called urgently.

“Get in here, quick!” Timothy urged.

Marcela’s face went pale at the sight of the devastation, but she quickly regained her composure and rushed to assess Phoebe’s condition.

“Why is she like this?” Marcela’s voice trembled, breaking with emotion. “I left her just moments ago!”

“I don’t know! She was already like this when I arrived!” Timothy stepped back, letting Marcela take over.

Her healing magic surged forth immediately, battling to preserve Phoebe’s fading life.

Marcela poured every ounce of her strength into stemming the hemorrhaging, but some wounds were far too deep to heal quickly.

“Did someone attack her?” Marcela glanced around at the overturned table and shattered glass scattered across the floor. Yet even as she asked, doubt shadowed her expression.

Timothy shared her suspicion, the bitter truth hanging heavy between them.

“No. I don’t think anyone attacked her,” he admitted quietly, the words tasting like poison. “I think she tried to kill herself.”

There were no foreign scents in the room—only Phoebe’s blood and the raw panic of those who loved her. This destruction had come from within.