Marked By The Mad King Alpha (Phoebe and Perry) novel Chapter 113

113 Chapter 113: The Only Answer Is Death

DIE…

1

That woman served no real purpose. She had caused Perry to abandon his duties, leaving everything hanging by a thread. Just look at the mess they were in now.

A civil war was fast approaching, yet their king had conveniently vanished from the palace, off on some romantic escapade with his companion.

Flynn rubbed his face wearily, the weight of what he was about to do pressing heavily on his conscience. He despised having to make such ruthless decisions, but someone had to be the one to act.

She was nothing more than a dangerous distraction—an obstacle preventing the king from ruling effectively. After all Perry had sacrificed and endured to claim his throne, Flynn refused to stand by and watch everything crumble because of her.

“You look like hell,” a voice broke through his thoughts.

Flynn’s eyes snapped open, and he sat up abruptly. Timothy had entered the study unannounced. A low growl rumbled deep in Flynn’s throat.

“Ever heard of knocking?” he snapped, heart pounding as if caught in the act.

Timothy frowned, confused. “What are you talking about? I almost busted the door down knocking. When you didn’t answer, I figured you weren’t here. But your scent was everywhere.” He studied Flynn carefully. “Were you actually sleeping?”

“He had a lot on his mind,” Flynn muttered, waving his hand in dismissal, hoping Timothy would take the hint and leave.

“You always do,” Timothy replied with a knowing smirk.

The irritation that had colored Timothy’s face moments before now faded. He had delivered the news—their last strategy meeting before he would lead the charge to crush the Obsidian Claw pack and every other rebel faction foolish enough to defy their king.

Nothing complicated—just a matter of logistics and supply coordination that needed Flynn’s approval.

Perry’s Perspective

I kept a few steps behind Phoebe as she strolled along the shoreline. Somewhere along the way, she had slipped off her shoes, and the floral dress I had packed for her fluttered gently around her legs, stirred by the salty ocean breeze. Her dark hair streamed behind her like a silken veil.

The dying sun cast everything in a deep crimson glow, making her look utterly breathtaking—almost otherworldly. Like a divine presence had chosen to grace this ordinary beach with her ethereal beauty.

I could have walked behind her like this forever.

God, I wished I could freeze this moment in time.

Then I noticed the trail of blood left by her footsteps, and my heart stopped cold. I hurried forward, catching her arm as she turned to face me, her eyes distant and empty.

“Don’t move. What happened to your feet?” I asked urgently, guiding her down onto the sand and lifting her foot to inspect.

A sharp stone had sliced deeply into the sole of her foot. “Shit!” The curse slipped out before I could stop it.

Phoebe flinched—not from pain, but from me. From my anger.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify