Marked By The Mad King Alpha (Phoebe and Perry) novel Chapter 131

131 Chapter 131: An Unnatural Sickness

Phoebe’s Perspective

A stifling heat dragged me abruptly from the depths of sleep—an intense, suffocating warmth that clung to my skin, leaving me drenched in sweat. My eyes snapped open, immediately alert to the cause.

Perry’s iron grip held me tightly, his powerful arms wrapped around me like unyielding steel bands. Normally, he was a furnace of heat, but this was something different—something far more alarming.

This was dangerous.

I struggled against his hold, pressing my palm firmly against his forehead. The skin beneath my hand was scorching—not with the familiar warmth of his shifter nature, but with a fierce, unnatural heat.

A fever.

My heart skipped a beat. Shifters didn’t get sick. At least, they never ran fevers. And Perry? With his royal bloodline pulsing through his veins, paired with healing abilities that outshone even the strongest shifters? This simply shouldn’t be happening.

I must have missed it last night when he quietly slipped into bed. He’d kept his distance, hadn’t drawn me close like he usually did. Now I understood why.

“Perry,” I whispered urgently, shaking his shoulder gently. No response. Sweat dotted his brow, and even in sleep, his face was twisted in discomfort.

I tried again, this time more forcefully. Still nothing.

A wave of panic surged through me. I needed Marcela.

Freeing myself from Perry’s heavy, unresponsive weight was harder than I expected. Even unconscious, he was like a mountain. His arm alone felt like it weighed a ton, and by the time I finally slipped free, I was gasping for breath.

The infirmary was quiet, bathed in the soft shadows of early dawn. I found Marcela curled up in a back room, looking peaceful—until I shook her awake.

She jolted upright, blinking blearily. “What’s wrong? What happened?” Her eyes scanned my frantic expression. “My lady, it’s barely sunrise. Can I have five more minutes?”

She began to lean back onto her pillow, but I grabbed her wrist, pulling her upright.

“Okay, okay! I’m awake,” she muttered, stumbling out of bed and grabbing her jacket as I hurried her toward the door. “Are you hurt?”

I shook my head and led her swiftly down the corridor toward my bedroom. When we stepped inside, Marcela’s eyes widened at the sight of Perry sprawled across the bed.

“My lady, we can’t disturb the king while he’s sleeping,” she whispered, fear etched across her face. “What if he wakes up in a bad mood?”

I climbed onto the bed, pressing my hand once more against his burning forehead, then gestured for her to do the same.

Marcela looked horrified. “Are you sure?”

“Where?” Timothy’s voice was sharp with anticipation.

They had been searching tirelessly for the hidden passage ever since Viola mentioned it. Her past connection with Kevin had given her fragments of information about the pack’s secrets, though she didn’t know the exact location.

Finding this entrance could change everything—no more waiting on reinforcements, no more drawn-out siege.

“Excellent work,” Timothy praised, clapping Turner on the shoulder.

“Outstanding job,” another voice added.

Turner gave credit where it was due. “All thanks to my mate.”

“Of course. I’ll make sure the king knows about both of your contributions. You’ll both be rewarded handsomely.”

“Thank you, Royal Gamma.”

That very night, Timothy led a hundred elite warriors through the secret passage. They couldn’t wait for the reinforcements arriving tomorrow—this was an opportunity too valuable to pass up.

“Half of you take the fortress,” Timothy commanded. “The rest come with me to the pack house. Our targets are Alpha Sterling and Reginald. No survivors.”