Marked By The Mad King Alpha (Phoebe and Perry) novel Chapter 11

The throne I had claimed through bloodshed and betrayal had awakened a savage hunger deep within me—an insatiable craving to tear apart, to ignite chaos, to dominate all who stood in my way. Every neighboring pack, every border territory, every rival who dared to utter my name in hushed tones became a target marked for conquest. The roar of battle was like an addictive drug I couldn’t resist, and the acrid scent of smoke was a perfume that intoxicated me.

Flynn, my loyal beta, followed me through every dark turn, though his conscience still clung stubbornly to fragments of decency. His voice was cautious when he finally spoke. “What’s your next move?”

Without hesitation, I answered, “I’ll strip him of his title. His pack will bow to my rule.”

His silence spoke volumes—he already knew which alpha I meant. “Perry,” he said at last, his voice tight with tension, “this is madness. You’re talking about the Obsidian Claw pack. Kevin might be reckless, but you have no right to crush him.”

“Right?” I repeated, tasting the word on my tongue, bitter and hollow. “Kings don’t ask for permission.”

Flynn’s face tightened, the futile nature of arguing with me clear in his eyes. He understood that my motives weren’t political—they were deeply personal. Phoebe’s scent still clung to my skin, her pain etched into my memory like a brand. The very thought of that pitiful boy’s hands on her twisted something inside me.

“Perry, let it go,” Flynn pleaded softly. “She was with him once. She chose that path.”

“She never chose him,” I said quietly, yet my words cut sharp. “He took what wasn’t his to take. And I will take everything he holds dear in return.”

My gaze flickered to the bed where Phoebe lay, restless in her sleep, caught in the grip of a nightmare. Her face tightened, a soft whimper breaking the silence. “Please… no, I don’t want—” she murmured, twisting as if trying to escape unseen tormentors.

The sound struck me like a knife to the chest.

I crossed the room and knelt beside her, brushing damp strands of hair from her forehead. Her skin was clammy, pulse racing. Even in sleep, she battled demons I could not see.

She didn’t wake, but her trembling eased when my palm touched her cheek. A faint spark of the bond between us flickered—fragile, yet unmistakably real.

From the shadows, Flynn watched silently. “You can’t shield her from her memories, Perry. And revenge won’t mend her wounds.”

“Maybe not,” I admitted, standing tall. “But it will silence the ones who inflicted those scars.”

—

The glory of the ceremony had faded hours ago, yet a blazing fury still roared inside me like an uncontrollable wildfire. The king had taken her—my omega, my possession, everything I considered mine.

I slammed my fist onto the desk, splintering the wood beneath me.

Dorothy, the head omega, stood before me with hands folded neatly. “The story is spreading, Alpha, just as you ordered. Everyone believes the king took advantage of her. The pack thinks she seduced him out of desperation.”

“Good,” I growled. “Make sure that’s the only version they hear.”

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