Marked By The Mad King Alpha (Phoebe and Perry) novel Chapter 190

190 /226

**TITLE: His Mercy Tastes Like Hunger**
**Chapter 190: The Unspeakable Consequence**

**Phoebe’s POV**

As I stirred awake, I found myself cocooned in Perry’s embrace, his body enveloping me like a heavy, warm blanket. The sensation was both comforting and suffocating. His arms were locked around me, as if he intended to absorb every inch of me into his vast, solid frame. But therein lay the dilemma—his size was monumental, and I felt as though I was being crushed beneath his weight.

A wave of panic surged through me. I squirmed, attempting to wriggle free from his grip, but he only tightened his hold, pulling me even closer, his warmth radiating through the fabric of our shared space. The morning sun poured into our tent, intensifying the heat and making it nearly unbearable.

I squirmed again, this time more urgently, and in a sleepy haze, Perry’s hand inadvertently found its way to my breast. His fingers kneaded the soft flesh there, and he let out a low, contented groan, still lost in the realm of dreams.

Even in slumber, he seemed unable to keep his hands to himself.

In a moment of impulse, I grasped his wrist to halt his wandering fingers, but my movement jolted him awake. “Mm?” he murmured, his brows knitting together in a sleepy confusion. He instinctively nuzzled into the curve of my neck, seeking warmth and comfort in my presence.

Meanwhile, outside our tent, Joe strode purposefully toward Fiona, who was doubled over beneath the gnarled branches of an ancient tree, retching violently. His hand found her neck, gently massaging it in a bid to soothe her. “What’s wrong with you? You look like death warmed over,” he remarked, concern etched on his face.

Joe was one of the twin warriors from the Crimson Fang pack, and he had grown up alongside Fiona. His loyalty to her was unwavering, a bond forged through years of shared experiences and trials.

“I’m fine,” Fiona managed to gasp between heaving breaths. She accepted the water bottle Joe offered, rinsing the bitter taste from her mouth, the cool liquid a brief reprieve.

She splashed some of the water on her face, attempting to wash away the sweat that clung to her skin like a second layer. Days of illness had taken their toll on her, and she felt as though she was fading.

“You need something?” she asked again, her voice raw and strained. She nodded her thanks for the water, but her eyes betrayed her exhaustion.

“We have to move,” Joe urged, his expression darkening with urgency. “The king’s sending search parties to hunt down survivors. We can’t linger here.”

Fiona wiped her damp face with the sleeve of her shirt, her heart sinking at the thought of leaving Reginald behind. “How’s Reginald doing?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“He sleeps most of the time,” she continued, her brow furrowing with worry. “When he is awake, it’s more frequent now, but his recovery feels like it’s crawling at a snail’s pace.”

Joe nodded sharply, his jaw tightening. “I’d tell you to rest, but I need you to talk to royal beta Allen.”

At the mention of Allen’s name, Fiona’s body went rigid. “What… what for?” The thought of facing him again sent a wave of dread washing over her. The memory of his filthy hands on her skin made her stomach churn violently.

“Like I explained before,” Joe said, his brow furrowing deeper, sensing her discomfort.

Fiona had barely been listening. “The king’s got search parties tracking us. We need to evacuate. Allen claims he can get us to the Valerium Kingdom—it’s our only shot at survival. We leave now.”

Only Allen knew the treacherous route to reach the Valerium people and cross the border, a knowledge that could mean the difference between life and death. Reginald had briefed alpha Sterling, who had relayed the information to Joe and the other warriors.

That was precisely why they had kept the royal beta from the Valerium kingdom alive.

“Fiona, are you hearing me?” Joe gently shook her shoulder, trying to bring her back to the present.

“Yeah, I caught that,” she replied, her heart racing. She swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her decision settle heavily in her chest. “I’ll… I’ll talk to him.”

In the distance, Tiara approached them, her expression weary yet determined. Reginald’s mother, she carried the burden of their struggles on her shoulders.