Marked By The Mad King Alpha (Phoebe and Perry) novel Chapter 102

Chapter 102: A Bond Stretched Thin

“She tried to take her own life,” Timothy confessed to Marcela, the words landing heavier than he had anticipated on the royal gamma. Anxiety clouded his mind, momentarily blurring the fact that Phoebe had faced such darkness before.

If Helen had been here instead of Marcela, she would have immediately recognized the signs. Helen knew this wasn’t Phoebe’s first attempt; she understood the depths of the struggle Phoebe was fighting.

“Don’t ever leave her alone again. Even if you need to step away for a moment, make sure someone else is watching her. Do you understand?” Timothy’s voice was firm but carried a hint of desperation.

Marcela’s eyes grew wide with shock, but she quickly nodded. “Yes, absolutely. I’m so sorry—I had no idea…” Her voice faltered, revealing her ignorance of Phoebe’s history with self-harm.

“It’s okay. Just be vigilant,” Timothy said, shaking his head. He refused to place blame on Marcela for something she couldn’t have possibly known.

The healer was still adjusting to her role, grappling with her own inner battles. “Please be more cautious next time.”

“Yes, I will. Without fail,” Marcela promised, her tone sincere but shaken.

Still, another issue gnawed at Timothy’s mind. His attention needed to remain on Phoebe, yet Perry demanded his focus as well.

The king’s mental state was fraying from being separated from his mate. Without Flynn’s steadying presence, Perry’s fury could have turned deadly against anything in his path.

Thank goodness the king still heeded his royal beta’s counsel.

“Royal gamma Timothy! Bad news! Really bad news!” a warrior burst into the room without so much as a knock, earning a sharp glare from Timothy.

“What now?” Timothy asked, weary. He didn’t want more complications, but ignoring problems wouldn’t make them disappear.

“The king!” the warrior blurted out.

When Timothy arrived at the edge of the forest, Flynn was already there, his expression stormy. The royal beta was locked in a heated discussion with one of the senior warriors.

As Timothy approached, he caught the tail end of their exchange.

“We can’t just send all our warriors in there, royal beta Flynn. None of us know this forest. No one has ever ventured this deep before. Only the king knows the terrain,” the senior warrior argued.

“How the hell do you expect to find the king then?!” Flynn’s voice cracked with frustration.

Timothy understood Flynn’s urgency to locate Perry quickly, but he also saw the wisdom in the senior warrior’s caution.

They had already lost too many men in the last attack, and with some defecting, they couldn’t afford more casualties.

“Those wild wolves only obey the king. There’s no guarantee they won’t attack us the moment we step into their territory,” the warrior warned.

Everyone knew how fiercely territorial wolves could be—they were part wolf themselves, after all. Entering that forest without guidance could mean certain death.

“And then there’s the king…” The senior warrior hesitated, but the meaning was clear. “We don’t know what state he’s in. He could be as dangerous as those wild wolves.” He paused, voice dropping. “Actually, he could be worse.”

—

Perry’s Perspective

I finally shifted back into human form, but the pain remained, relentless. It was less intense than the initial wave, but my condition had not improved.

Something had happened to Phoebe. The bond between us, once strong and unbreakable, now felt stretched to its limits, nearly snapping.

I tried to run from the agony, even though my beast demanded I return to her side.

But I couldn’t. The moment I laid eyes on her, I would shatter completely. The guilt over our child’s death consumed me, and I knew Phoebe was struggling just as much.

My presence wouldn’t bring her comfort—it would only deepen her suffering.

Still, I longed for her more than anything else in the world.

She could poison me or even end my life outright if it would ease her pain. At this point, I didn’t care anymore. But the truth was simple: my being near her would only cause her more torment.

My mate was drowning in anguish, and I felt every ounce of it through our bond. Yet I couldn’t go to her.

I was no comfort—I was misery incarnate.