Marked By The Mad King Alpha (Phoebe and Perry) novel Chapter 241

Chapter 241: Chapter 241 Forced to Kneel

Perry’s POV

Marco materialized from the shadows like a ghost, clutching my unconscious mate against his chest. Two Valerium warriors flanked him—the same cowards who had fled earlier when the real fighting began, only to slink back once they spotted Marco with the queen.

Phoebe hung limp in his grasp, her head lolling against his shoulder. The steady rise and fall of her chest was the only thing preventing me from painting the forest red with their blood.

But those bruises around her throat... those purple fingerprints on her pale skin made my vision blur with murderous intent.

Without her wolf, Phoebe healed like any fragile human. Those marks would linger for days, a constant reminder of how they’d touched what belonged to me.

Every person present could sense the lethal rage radiating from my body like heat from a forge. The air itself seemed to thicken with violence.

"So," I said, my voice deadly calm as I fixed Marco with a stare that had made grown alphas wet themselves, "you’re one of the traitors."

Marco’s hands trembled as he fought to steady himself. Going against a king wasn’t just rebellion—it was biological warfare. Every instinct bred into him over generations screamed to submit, to bare his throat, to beg forgiveness.

Yet here he stood, defying the supreme ruler with Phoebe as his only shield.

The beta’s fear-sweat filled the air, sharp and acidic. But beneath that terror lay something else: desperation so complete it made him dangerous.

"Stay back!" Marco’s voice cracked like a whip. "Keep your distance from him, King Perry, or I swear I’ll—"

"You’ll what?" I took a single step forward, and Marco immediately pressed his claws against Phoebe’s throat. "Hurt my mate? We both know you won’t."

But I froze anyway. I wouldn’t gamble with her life, no matter how empty his threats seemed.

Marco’s eyes darted to Maxwell, who was attempting to crawl away from the blood-soaked clearing where I’d systematically dismantled his warriors. The royal gamma looked pitiful—three fingers missing, shoulders shattered, his face a mask of agony.

When Maxwell caught my gaze, something shifted in his expression. Pain transformed into twisted triumph.

"Look who’s begging now," he gasped out through gritted teeth, then burst into delirious laughter that echoed through the trees. "The mighty Mad King, brought to heel by a simple beta."

I slammed my boot into his broken ribs, feeling bones crack further under the impact. Maxwell’s laughter turned to a gurgling wheeze.

"Enough!" Marco’s claws trembled against Phoebe’s skin, drawing the faintest line of blood. "I told you to stay back, or I’ll end her! I swear it!"

The scent of Phoebe’s blood—just a single drop—ignited something primal in my chest. My wolf roared for release, demanding I tear Marco apart piece by piece for daring to mark our mate.

But I remained frozen, every muscle locked in place by the sight of those claws hovering over her jugular.

"Does Wallace know his beta is nothing but gutless scum?" I asked, though my attention never left my unconscious mate. "Or is betrayal a family tradition in your pack?"

"Wallace is weak!" Marco spat, his desperation bleeding into rage. "He doesn’t deserve the alpha title. He’s pathetic, just like his father was."

There it was—the real motivation. Marco had served as beta under Wallace’s father, watching what he considered an inferior bloodline maintain power while he remained second. When the old alpha died and Wallace inherited the title, Marco’s resentment had curdled into rebellion.

"What do you want?" I cut straight to the heart of it. Playing psychological games wouldn’t help Phoebe. "Name your terms."

Marco’s lips twisted into something that might have been a smile if it wasn’t so full of hatred. "You think this is a negotiation? You think I’m going to bargain with you?" 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

"If you hurt her," I said quietly, "I’ll burn you alive. Slowly. I’ll keep you conscious for every second of it."

The threat hung in the air like a blade. Marco’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, but he pressed his claws deeper against Phoebe’s throat in response.

That’s when I heard them approaching through the underbrush.

Footsteps. Multiple sets. Moving with military precision through the forest toward our clearing.

Three figures emerged from behind Marco and his Valerium allies, stepping into the fading daylight like actors taking their places on a stage.

Elder Augustus led the procession, his silver hair pristine despite the wilderness trek. Behind him came two more elders I recognized from countless council meetings—men who had sworn oaths of loyalty to my crown.

Ten warriors followed in their wake, all bearing the insignia of the royal guard.

My own men. Sworn to protect me.

Now pointing their weapons at my heart.

"My king," Elder Augustus said, offering a bow so deep it bordered on mockery. "What a pleasure to find you here."

The false respect in his tone made my jaw clench. "Are you here to help me as well, Augustus? Or should I assume you’re part of this little coup attempt?"

"Coup?" Augustus placed a hand over his heart in mock offense. "My dear king, you wound me. I’m here to ensure a peaceful transition of power. Nothing more."

I let my gaze sweep over the other elders and their warriors, cataloging their positions, their weapons, their likely fighting capabilities. Even wounded and outnumbered, I could kill half of them before they brought me down.

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