Marked By The Mad King Alpha (Phoebe and Perry) novel Chapter 129

Chapter 129: The Weight of a King

Phoebe’s Perspective

I furrowed my brow, pressing my lips into a thin line as I tried to move my legs. But they remained stubbornly numb and unresponsive. I’d been stuck in this same position for nearly two hours now.

It wasn’t the posture itself that was the issue—it was the heavy weight of the king resting his head on my lap like a personal pillow that kept me pinned down.

Perry was sound asleep, his breathing slow and steady, completely undisturbed.

How could anyone possibly sleep so deeply in such an uncomfortable pose? He was bound to wake up with a brutal backache, though knowing shifters, maybe not. They were built differently, after all.

Meanwhile, here I was, suffering because of him. Once again.

I gently nudged his shoulder, hoping to stir him awake. Nothing. Then I took hold of a few strands of his dark hair and gave a gentle tug.

Perry barely moved.

His arms were wrapped tightly around my lower body, like iron shackles holding me captive.

I gripped a handful of his hair and pulled a little harder.

Still, as strange as it sounded, I couldn’t bring myself to wake him more forcefully.

My emotions for this man were a tangled mess. He made my heart flutter and my stomach twist, yet he had also shattered me into pieces. I had endured more torment with Perry than I ever had with Kevin, yet seeing his peaceful, sleeping face softened something deep inside me.

His dark hair fell carelessly over his closed eyes, and his cheeks looked fuller in rest.

He’d lost so much weight. The past month had clearly been merciless to him. Losing his beta wasn’t a small matter, but watching him punish Flynn so harshly had given me a strange sense of grim satisfaction.

Was I becoming cold-hearted? I couldn’t stop wondering what might have happened if Perry hadn’t uncovered what Flynn had done to me.

Or if he had chosen to abandon me instead.

My thoughts blurred together. I barely remembered stabbing him, but I knew the wound had been deep enough to be fatal. That was what Marcela had mentioned in passing.

Despite his injury, Perry had still found the strength to search for me.

Maybe that was why my heart had begun to thaw, even if I wasn’t ready to forgive him yet.

Since then, he had been nothing but respectful. He visited occasionally, sitting beside me quietly without making any inappropriate moves.

But I wasn’t naive. I’d heard rumors about the chaos Perry unleashed during every morning’s court session. He’d killed an elder who dared oppose him.

That was just one of many stories Marcela had shared. The healer loved to talk, and since I remained silent, she carried on entire conversations by herself.

So when Perry admitted his urge to kill, it left me conflicted. I didn’t want him near me, yet it seemed he needed my presence to keep his rage in check.

I nudged his shoulder again, this time with more force, my frustration growing.

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