Marked By The Mad King Alpha (Phoebe and Perry) novel Chapter 182

**TITLE: His Mercy Tastes Like Hunger**
**Chapter 182: Let The Dead Man Walk**

Fiona nestled closer to Reginald, feeling the reassuring warmth of his arm as it draped over her shoulder. It was a comforting shield against the anxiety that threatened to consume her. She willed herself to disregard Allen entirely, treating him as if he were a mere figment of her imagination. Her body, however, betrayed her; every nerve ending screamed for more wolfbane, but she clenched her jaw, battling the insistent craving that clawed at her insides.

The guilt that gnawed at her was far more potent than any addiction she had ever faced. It was a searing pain, more intense than the sorrow she felt from the loss of her father. She felt as though she were drowning in a sea of regret; he was gone forever, and there was no way to change that harsh reality. But Reginald? There was still a chance to salvage what they had. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing him too. The love she harbored for him intensified the weight of her guilt, making it almost unbearable.

Meanwhile, Allen’s predatory gaze lingered on her, his leering stares unmasked and obnoxious. His lascivious grin did not escape Darius’s keen eyes, igniting a firestorm of rage within him. He felt an overwhelming urge to tear the man apart right then and there, to silence the smirk that dared to taunt them in their moment of vulnerability.

“There will be a right time for that,” Reginald’s voice sliced through Darius’s murderous thoughts like a knife. They needed Allen alive; his death would fuel the Valerium warriors’ fury when they discovered their royal beta was no more.

But to strike now would only hinder their progress. They had to reach the rendezvous point first—there was no sense in hauling around a corpse for miles.

“Let the dead man walk to his own execution,” Darius thought bitterly. Allen had proven to be useless while alive; they wouldn’t allow themselves to be burdened with his lifeless body any longer than absolutely necessary.

“It’s time to do it,” Darius muttered under his breath as he watched Allen slump against a tree, snoring blissfully unaware of the danger lurking just inches away from him, surrounded by those he trusted most.

“No. We still have five more hours to go. Fiona’s barely hanging on—she won’t be able to keep up if we have to carry her,” Reginald replied, his voice steady but filled with concern.

Darius cursed softly, the truth of Reginald’s words hitting him hard. He knew he was right.

“Fine. We’ll handle it closer to the rendezvous point,” Darius conceded, glancing at Fiona. “How’s she holding up?”

“Exhausted, but alive,” Reginald said softly, looking down at Fiona, who had succumbed to sleep, her head resting gently on his thigh like a fragile bird seeking refuge.

“Thanks for looking after her. I truly mean it,” Darius said, a hint of gratitude in his voice.

Reginald remained silent, his gaze fixed on Fiona, the weight of their shared burden heavier than words could express.

**Phoebe’s POV**

The cacophony of battle enveloped me like a raging storm—howls, roars, and the visceral sounds of combat echoed in the distance as beasts clashed violently. This was my first experience so close to the brutal reality of war, and the sheer ferocity of it made my stomach churn with unease.

In my makeshift infirmary, casualties poured in at an alarming rate, faster than I could manage. I felt the desperation clawing at me, realizing I was running out of staff. Millie and Katherine were nearing their breaking point, their faces pale and weary as they struggled to keep up with the influx of the injured.

With urgency, I snatched a piece of paper and hastily scribbled a note for them to read: *Don’t heal them completely. Conserve your strength—heal just enough to keep them alive. Let their bodies and the medicine do the rest.*

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