Marked By The Mad King Alpha (Phoebe and Perry) novel Chapter 187

**Chapter 187: Softening The Mad**

**King**

**Phoebe’s POV**

Once again, the ethereal white wolf graced my dreams, a vision of beauty that seemed to shimmer in the twilight of my subconscious. This time, however, I felt an undeniable pull, a magnetic connection that urged me to reach out. I extended my hand, fingers brushing against its luxurious, silky fur, and a gentle warmth spread through me, igniting a spark of joy I hadn’t felt in ages.

A soft smile bloomed on my lips as I playfully tickled the wolf’s side, and to my delight, it responded by laying its magnificent head across my lap, a gesture of trust and affection. Laughter bubbled up from within me, a sound that echoed in the quiet of my dream, mingling with the serenity of the moment.

Every encounter with this wolf left me with an inexplicable ache, a yearning that felt like reuniting with a long-lost friend. It was a connection that transcended the boundaries of reality, a bond that whispered secrets of the heart.

What are you?

The question reverberated in the depths of my mind, teasing me with its mystery. But as I opened my eyes, the dreamscape faded, and I found myself back in the familiar confines of my bed, the warmth of the sun filtering through the fabric of the tent.

I blinked several times, struggling to anchor myself in the present, when the sound of cheerful laughter reached my ears. It was Timothy, his voice bright and merry, a stark contrast to the heaviness that lingered in my heart.

But then, another voice cut through the laughter, sending a shiver down my spine. Perry’s tone was laced with irritation, a sound that sent my pulse racing.

“Why the gloomy expression? You shouldn’t feel so crushed—your mate just got on her knees in front of everyone, begging you to show mercy. Come on, don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s actually good that people are starting to forget about the Mad King reputation. Phoebe’s really helping your image.”

“Shut your mouth, or I’ll throw you out. She’s still resting.”

Perry’s growl was fierce, yet I could hear the underlying concern in his voice, followed by Timothy’s laughter and the sound of scuffling. It was clear that the king had taken matters into his own hands, physically ejecting Timothy from the tent.

As the bed shifted beneath Perry’s weight, I felt a strange urge to remain still, to keep pretending I was asleep. The memory of my desperate pleas for Samuel and Justin to be spared rushed back, flooding my mind with worry. Were they safe?

But Timothy’s buoyant spirit suggested that perhaps they were still alive. Perry hadn’t executed them, had he? I clung to that fragile thread of hope, even though uncertainty gnawed at the edges of my thoughts.

Perry settled beside me, his presence reassuring yet tense. His rough hand brushed against my cheek, tenderly tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

“I know you’re awake. How long are you planning to keep up this sleeping act?”

His words startled me, and my heart raced at the realization that my charade had been uncovered. I had hoped to remain hidden in the cocoon of my dreams a little longer, but now I had no choice. I opened my eyes to meet his gaze.

“You nearly drove me insane.” His voice held a note of deep concern, even as his touch remained gentle. “And they call me the Mad King. I think you’ve succeeded in making me even crazier.”

I frowned, confusion washing over me. What did he mean by that?

“Samuel and Justin?” I ventured, my voice barely above a whisper, the names spilling from my lips like a prayer.

Perry let out a frustrated growl, his irritation palpable. “You wake up and the first words out of your mouth are other men’s names? You really are something else, Phoebe.”

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