Marked By The Mad King Alpha (Phoebe and Perry) novel Chapter 163

Phoebe’s POV

A sudden jolt pulled me from the depths of sleep, a sharp gasp escaping my lips as I struggled to grasp my surroundings. My head throbbed, the pain echoing in my temples as I tried to piece together the fragmented memories of the night before. Slowly, the fog in my mind began to dissipate, and the events of last night crashed back into focus.

Allen had slipped me wolfbane—a powerful concoction designed to intoxicate shifters. He’d presented it to me as a shot, sending the fiery liquid coursing through my veins. The impact was immediate, overwhelming, like a freight train barreling down on me. Yet, amid the chaos, there had been an exhilarating euphoria, one I had never encountered before.

In those fleeting moments, I felt unburdened, as if I were floating, free from the weight of every sorrow that had anchored my spirit. It was the first time I had experienced such genuine happiness since Perry had marked me as his mate.

But even that fleeting joy paled in comparison to the overwhelming sensations I had felt last night. It had been intoxicating in a way that was both thrilling and terrifying.

As I attempted to move, a heavy weight pressed down on me. Panic surged in my stomach as I looked down to find one of the warriors sprawled across my body, completely naked. Not Allen.

Then, like a sledgehammer, the memories crashed into me. Faces flashed before my eyes, their cruel laughter echoing in my ears. They had passed me around like a plaything, each one taking what they desired, reducing me to mere objecthood.

Shame washed over me like acid, burning through my veins. I could scarcely breathe as I recalled the most horrifying detail—how my body had betrayed me, responding to their touches in ways that made me feel sick to my core.

“No, no. This can’t be right…” I pressed my palms against my ears, desperate to block out the memories that clawed at my mind. My breaths came in ragged gasps as I absorbed the chaotic scene around me.

They were all still asleep—the warriors, Allen, even the two other women. We had been nothing more than entertainment for them, tossed around like objects for their amusement. In that moment, I felt no different from those who sold their bodies for pleasure.

Bile rose in my throat as I shoved the warrior off me, scrambling to find my clothes, but my dress lay in ruins. I grabbed whatever scraps of fabric I could find to cover myself and fled the room in a panic.

Rushing to my bedroom, I nearly collided with Perry as he was on his way out.

“Phoebe?” His arms enveloped me as I collapsed against him, sobs wracking my body. He quickly pulled me inside, away from the prying eyes of the world.

“There were more, Perry. Not just Allen… the warriors, the prostitutes… so many of them… the wolfbane.” The words spilled from my lips in a rush, incoherent and frantic. How could I find clarity when shame consumed every inch of my being?

“Calm down, Phoebe. Just breathe.”

“I DON’T WANT TO CALM DOWN!” The roar erupted from my throat, raw and unrestrained, and his hand struck my cheek, a sharp reminder of my outburst.

I couldn’t decipher what had Perry so tangled up inside, but he had been brooding for days, his mood darkening like a storm cloud. It drove me to the brink of madness.

That’s why I had been relentlessly hounding Timothy, desperate for answers about the meetings that had left Perry in such a foul mood.

I shoved another note in front of Timothy, the same question I had been asking for days, my frustration boiling over.

“You’re making her worry sick. She’s been badgering me for answers about whatever’s bothering you. She’s stressed out of her mind. How can you do that to her?”

Perry came to an abrupt halt, nearly causing Timothy to crash into him, his reflexes barely saving him from a collision.

“What now?” Timothy muttered, watching Perry sink into another of his brooding spells. Then, without warning, the king stalked off again. “I’m losing my damn mind!”

Perry’s POV

That night, I returned from the war council later than usual. The meeting with the senior warriors had dragged on, and I had told Phoebe not to wait up for me.

As I entered our bedroom, I assumed she was already asleep—or so I thought.

I approached the bed cautiously, reaching out to touch her face. The moment my fingers brushed her skin, her eyes fluttered open.

Those sleepy, vulnerable eyes tightened my chest with a mix of longing and concern. She pressed my hand against her cheek, seeking comfort in my presence.

“Sleep, Phoebe. We’ll talk tomorrow.” Tomorrow, I would finally share the truth about what was tearing me apart inside. If I continued to bottle this up, I would shatter us faster than any fertility issues ever could.