Marked By The Mad King Alpha (Phoebe and Perry) novel Chapter 47

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The vial felt like ice against my skin, though it burned as if alive. My father’s words echoed—one drop a day, a slow death disguised as time itself.
I wondered how long it would take to work. A month? Two? How long before the kingdom realized its king was fading?

Part of me wanted it to happen. Perry had torn through my life, leaving scars deeper than any wound. Maybe this would finally end his reign, his wars, his cruelty. Maybe the world would be better for it.

That’s what I kept telling myself.

I looked at him as he slept beside me, the so-called Mad King, and tucked the vial back into its place. I’d wait for the right moment.

Even asleep, he looked tormented—brow furrowed, jaw tight. His dreams were anything but peaceful.
Good. Let the nightmares devour him.

Then I heard him speak.
At first, I couldn’t make sense of the sounds, but as the words became clear, a chill spread through me.

“No… don’t hurt her… she didn’t do anything…”

His hand twitched, his breath came rough, and he whispered again.

“Stay away from her… not Cordelia… don’t…”

Cordelia.
The name struck me. Who was she? A lover? Someone he’d failed to protect?

He began to thrash, his arms tightening around me. Pain shot through my ribs, and I tried to shake him awake.

“Perry,” I called softly at first, then louder. “It’s just a dream!”

But his eyes flew open—wild, unseeing. He moved on instinct, flipping me beneath him in one motion. His pupils glowed faintly gold; his instincts had taken over. For a heartbeat, I saw a predator, not a man.

“Perry!” I cried, struggling against his weight. My voice finally reached him, slicing through the fog.

He froze. Confusion flickered in his expression, then horror. He blinked rapidly, as if forcing himself to remember where he was.

Helen worked quickly. The sting faded under her touch, replaced by the cool scent of herbs and the hum of faint healing energy.

When it was done, she looked between us, hesitant. “She’ll recover. It’s not deep, but… it will scar.”

Perry didn’t respond. He stood silent, every muscle tight. Helen left quietly, closing the door behind her.

For a long moment, neither of us spoke. The silence was a living thing between us.

Finally, Perry sank into the chair beside the bed, eyes fixed on me. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said quietly. “I promised you I wouldn’t… that wasn’t me.”

I met his gaze. His remorse was real, but it didn’t erase the fear pulsing in my veins.
He looked like a man realizing that the monster in his nightmares wasn’t just a dream—it was himself.