Marked By The Mad King Alpha (Phoebe and Perry) novel Chapter 142

The throne room was steeped in a heavy silence, a palpable tension hanging in the air as I faced Alpha Wallace, who stood before me, isolated from any support. Alpha Tricia had not been summoned, and despite his propensity for critiquing my impromptu decisions, he had never dared to challenge my authority openly. This absence left Wallace visibly on edge, his posture tense as he awaited my demand.

I needed assurance of his loyalty. Trust, after all, was a delicate thread, particularly after he had come perilously close to betraying me in the past. It was only natural to question the sincerity of his allegiance.

In a moment that shocked even me, Wallace raised his clawed hand and severed his own ear. The brutality of the act was staggering; I could see the grimace on his face, muscles taut with pain. He didn’t cry out in agony but instead dropped to his knees, arms lifted high, presenting his severed ear like a grotesque tribute.

Blood cascaded down his throat, soaking his shirt in deep crimson. His hands were slick with red, the severed ear trembling in his trembling grip.

“I pledge my loyalty to you, my king,” he gasped, each word strained through gritted teeth, the agony clear in his voice. “You are my sovereign, the very lifeblood of this realm,” he recited the traditional oath, desperation saturating every syllable.

A mix of surprise and amusement washed over me at his extreme display. I had not foreseen such a drastic measure, yet I found a begrudging respect for the young alpha’s willingness to go to such lengths. After all, losing an ear was a far better fate than losing one’s life.

However, this act was not merely about the physical sacrifice; it was a severe humiliation, a permanent mark of his transgression. That scar would follow him throughout his life, a constant reminder of his betrayal, visible to all who crossed his path.

The social disgrace he would endure was far greater than the pain he felt. I couldn’t help but smirk as I observed him, the irony of the situation not lost on me. Rising from my throne, I walked toward Alpha Wallace, who still held out his bloody offering.

I picked up the severed ear, examining the gaping wound on his skull where blood continued to seep, even as his healing abilities began to activate.

“This is your last chance, Alpha Wallace,” I declared with authority, rolling the ear between my fingers, feeling the weight of his desperate actions.

“Show me even a hint of disloyalty again, and I will feed you alive to my wild wolves,” I warned, my voice low and threatening.

Wallace swallowed hard, his eyes widening at the thought of such a fate. He was acutely aware of the fearsome reputation of my pack, known for feasting on the remains of traitors for years. The dark forest surrounding us was a place of nightmares; those beasts were too savage, too relentless.

“Y-yes, my king. I will remain loyal to you. Only you,” he stammered, panic evident in his tone.

But if he thought mercy would follow such an act, he was gravely mistaken. I had further plans for him.

“I’m doubling your pack’s tribute for the next six months, and you will surrender half of your warriors to me,” I proclaimed, my voice unwavering.

Alpha Wallace’s head snapped up in shock, disbelief written all over his face. “F-forgive me?” he gasped, struggling to grasp the enormity of my demand.

“My beautiful mate, my gorgeous Phoebe,” I whispered softly in her ear as she nestled closer, instinctively seeking my warmth.

I had washed Wallace’s blood from my hands before coming here; I would not taint my mate with such filth.

“My sanctuary…” I murmured, leaning down to kiss her forehead, then her nose, and finally her lips. I could have lost myself in those moments forever, but I refrained from waking her.

The night passed quietly, and when I awoke, a renewed sense of hope coursed through me, easing the tension that had gripped my warriors. Whispers circulated that I always seemed to improve after nights spent with the queen, and many looked forward to those occasions. It seemed only my mate had the power to soften my edges.

However, later that evening, dreadful news shattered the fragile peace.

“Gamma Timothy is critically wounded. He may not survive.”

As I lay there beside Phoebe, the warmth of her body intertwined with mine, a bittersweet ache settled in my chest. The brutality of the throne room lingered like an uninvited specter, a reminder of the sacrifices made in the name of loyalty and power. Alpha Wallace’s desperate act was not merely a testament to his allegiance; it starkly reflected the world we inhabited—one where trust was a currency more valuable than gold, yet perilously fragile. I had forged my path with blood and sacrifice, and while I cherished the fleeting solace found in Phoebe’s embrace, I could not escape the looming shadows of impending conflict threatening to engulf us all.

Yet in that quiet sanctuary, I also felt a flicker of hope. The bond I shared with Phoebe was a lifeline amidst the chaos, a reminder of what was truly worth fighting for. Her presence soothed the turmoil within me, offering a glimpse of light in a world cloaked in darkness. As the weight of my responsibilities pressed heavily on my shoulders, I knew I would face whatever came next with her by my side. The news of Gamma Timothy’s injury was a harsh reminder that the battle was far from over, yet I found strength in our love—a love that could withstand even the fiercest of storms. Together, we would navigate the trials ahead, and I would protect her with every ounce of my being.