Marked By The Mad King Alpha (Phoebe and Perry) novel Chapter 87

Chapter 87: The Dungeons’ Bitter Truth

“How is he holding up?” Flynn asked Timothy as he approached the royal gamma. The palace was in turmoil, chaos rippling through every corridor as they hunted down those linked to the Movement.

Perry had subjected Cameron to relentless torture until the older beta finally broke, divulging secrets about the Movement. It was hard to fathom just how intense the ordeal must have been to make such a seasoned warrior crumble.

“Keep your distance from him,” Timothy warned Flynn sharply. “I doubt his mind is stable enough right now to handle your bluntness.”

Flynn shot back a glare. “What’s that supposed to mean? That’s good advice, considering you rarely filter what you say either.”

Meanwhile, Perry was tearing through Phoebe’s quarters with uncontrollable rage, overturning furniture and scattering belongings everywhere. Timothy had uncovered something alarming: two vials of poison hidden within the luggage Phoebe had packed for their journey to the Crimson Fang pack.

The palace’s new healer had confirmed that both bottles contained deadly toxins.

This revelation shattered Phoebe’s earlier claims of never intending to harm Perry. Why else would she carry poison if she harbored no murderous plans against him? The logic simply didn’t add up.

Though Timothy noted the vials remained untouched, it was possible Phoebe simply hadn’t found the right moment to use them.

That left Timothy without a solid defense.

“Where are you going?” Flynn asked as Timothy turned away. The sound of smashing and crashing continued from Phoebe’s room—the king was venting his fury by destroying everything in sight.

“To the dungeon,” Timothy replied without hesitation.

Flynn raised an eyebrow, clearly questioning Timothy’s judgment. “You do realize Perry’s completely unhinged right now, and you want to go see her? What are you thinking?”

“Something’s wrong here,” Timothy murmured.

“More than wrong. I told you both she was trouble, but you ignored me. Look where that’s gotten us.”

Timothy’s gaze sharpened, unwilling to endure a lecture at a moment like this, though Flynn’s concerns were valid. Without Helen’s suspicions—and her subsequent murder for what she knew—they might never have uncovered the conspiracy to overthrow the king.

If they had waited any longer, the poison might have already taken hold of Perry, and by then, it could have been too late to intervene.

Yet, as far as Timothy could tell, Perry showed no signs of poisoning. No symptoms had appeared. The toxin was slow-acting, but the dose seemed too small to have an effect yet.

Still, Timothy needed answers from Phoebe.

“Don’t go, Timothy,” Flynn pleaded. “If Perry finds out about this, who knows how he’ll react? He’s beyond reason right now.”

Flynn’s voice dropped as he recalled the gruesome scene from earlier—Perry had torn Mason’s body apart, forcing the warriors to gather the remains. Even the most battle-hardened fighters had found it sickening.

The voice startled me. I whipped my head toward the left and saw an elderly man curled up on the floor. His injuries were severe, his healing sluggish and incomplete, but I recognized him immediately.

“Dad?” My voice came out hoarse and fragile, as if I hadn’t spoken in ages.

A mocking smile tugged at his lips. “You still call me that.”

I looked away, staring into the darkness beyond the small barred window of my cell. The cold bit into my skin, and through the glass, I glimpsed the black night sky. Night had fallen long ago—I must have been unconscious for hours.

“I heard what happened to you. You should have made up a story. The king was ready to forgive you.”

Cameron must have grown bored to start a conversation with me after years of avoidance, treating any interaction with his daughter like a blasphemy.

I said nothing, keeping my gaze fixed on the night sky. My mind drifted to the backyard swing—the gentle breeze brushing my face. I imagined myself there, free and warm, instead of trapped in this cramped, cold dungeon with my father.

“You’ve forgotten how to lie well. You used to be so good at deception—I almost believed you more times than I can count.”

Cameron looked at me with a sad smile. “I wish you had never transformed.”

“I never transformed,” I whispered, “but you did.”