Marked By The Mad King Alpha (Phoebe and Perry) novel Chapter 247

Chapter 247: Chapter 247 First White Fang

Perry’s POV

The warmth hit me first—a flutter of heat against my chest where Phoebe’s lifeless body pressed against mine.

Impossible. I’d felt her die in my arms. Watched the light fade from her eyes. Held her as her heart stopped beating.

But now... now her chest was moving.

"No." The word ripped from my throat, raw and disbelieving. I pressed my ear to her sternum, hardly daring to breathe.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Her heart was beating. Slow, unsteady, but beating.

"MARCELA!" I roared, the sound echoing through the clearing like thunder. "GET OVER HERE NOW!"

Every warrior within a vast radius froze. They’d seen what I’d seen—their queen bleeding out, her body broken beyond repair. Some had already begun planning funeral rites.

Marcela scrambled across the muddy ground, her healer’s bag clutched against her chest. Rain began to fall, turning the dirt beneath us into crimson-streaked mud.

"She’s alive," I said, the words foreign on my tongue. "Tell me she’s alive. Tell me I’m not losing my mind."

Marcela dropped to her knees beside us, her weathered hands immediately moving to check Phoebe’s pulse. The old healer’s eyes went wide as saucers.

"My king..." she whispered, her voice shaking. "Her wounds... they’re sealed. Completely healed. And her pulse—it’s growing stronger by the second."

A collective gasp rose from the watching warriors. Alpha Wallace stepped closer, his scarred face twisted with confusion and something approaching awe.

"How is that possible?" he demanded. "We all saw—the blood, the injuries..."

"I don’t know," Marcela admitted, running her hands over Phoebe’s unmarked skin. "This shouldn’t be possible. The trauma alone should have—"

"I don’t care how it’s possible," I cut her off, gathering Phoebe closer as rain began to fall harder. "Just tell me she’s going to be okay."

Marcela pressed her palms against Phoebe’s forehead, channeling her healing energy. "She’s stable, but weak. Unconscious. We should get her back to the pack house immediately. She needs warmth, shelter—"

I stood, lifting Phoebe in my arms like she weighed nothing. The moment I moved her, her eyes snapped open and she released a scream that could have shattered glass.

"PERRY!" She clawed at my shirt, her body convulsing in my grip. "Something’s wrong—something’s happening to me!"

Her skin was burning up. Not feverish—actually burning, like touching a live coal.

"What the hell—" I nearly dropped her as heat seared through my palms.

"It hurts!" Tears poured down Phoebe’s face as she doubled over, clutching her chest. "It feels like something’s trying to tear its way out of me!"

Marcela’s eyes went wide with recognition. "Oh, goddess above..."

"What? What is it?"

"Her first shift," Marcela breathed. "She’s about to transform for the first time."

The words hit the clearing like a lightning strike. Everyone knew the queen had no wolf. It was common knowledge, accepted fact.

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