Marked By The Mad King Alpha (Phoebe and Perry) novel Chapter 199

**His Mercy Tastes Like Hunger**
**Chapter 199: The Crushing Sorrow**

**Perry’s POV**

As I stood in the war room, I could see the way Elder Augustus’s body stiffened at my accusation. His eyes remained cast downward, avoiding my gaze, a silence enveloping the room that was thick with tension. The other warriors present mirrored his reluctance, their faces a mixture of shock and disbelief. This reaction, however, was not unexpected; the weight of betrayal hung heavily in the air.

Yet, despite the mounting pressure, he fought back fiercely against my claims. “That’s a complete lie! I never did it! I never betrayed our kingdom or sold us out to our enemies!” His voice trembled with desperation as he dropped to his knees before me, a gesture that should have evoked sympathy but instead only fueled my resolve. “Please, don’t believe that traitor, my king!”

I redirected my attention to the last traitor standing, my patience wearing thin. “Valerium gold, you said? What else do you know?”

The look of confusion that washed over his face was almost comical. “I’m not sure what more you want from me, my king… I… I have no idea. He’s also a traitor. He’ll be…” His voice faltered, the truth hanging like a noose around his neck.

“So beyond the Valerium gold, you’ve got nothing?” I pressed, irritation creeping into my tone.

The warrior struggled to formulate a coherent thought, but the reality was painfully clear: he was grasping at straws. He had no additional information to offer beyond the Valerium gold he had already mentioned.

Before he could utter another word, I acted swiftly, my sword slicing through the air with a precision that left no room for hesitation. His head fell to the ground, a mere whisper of life escaping him as it hit the floor.

“Anyone can get their hands on Valerium gold,” I remarked coldly, wiping the blood from my hands onto the tablecloth, a stark contrast to the seriousness of the moment. I turned to face the remaining warriors in the room, their expressions a mixture of horror and respect. “We’re done here. We’ll reconvene in two hours. Get someone to deal with this mess.”

With that, I exited the war room, signaling for one of my senior warriors to follow.

“Yes, my king?” Paul’s voice was barely audible as he caught up to me, his demeanor respectful yet cautious. He had been among the senior warriors who had accompanied Phoebe to the main gates, and I could sense his unease.

“I need you to handle something…” I began, but my thoughts were interrupted by a distant, haunting cry echoing through the night.

Fiona jolted awake, her body trembling from the remnants of a horrific nightmare that clung to her like a shroud. The forest floor beneath her felt foreign and cold, and as her eyes adjusted, she noticed Reginald sleeping beside her, blissfully unaware of the turmoil within her heart.

In the distance, two warriors conversed in hushed tones, their words muffled and indistinct, adding to her sense of disorientation. Fiona’s mind raced, memories crashing over her like waves. The escape, the royal warriors, the confession, the baby, the anger, the frustration, and then… grief, a heavy cloak that settled over her chest.

A crushing sorrow enveloped her, as if she had forgotten something vital that she desperately needed to remember. Yet, an unexplainable terror gripped her heart, a fear that clawed at her insides. She was terrified, and she didn’t want to confront the source of this overwhelming grief, but her heart wouldn’t allow her to forget.

But what? What was it that she needed to remember? What was she so afraid of? The questions swirled in her mind, a tempest of confusion.

Fiona scanned her surroundings, searching for familiar faces—Reginald, Tiara, the twins… but someone was glaringly absent. Draven.

“Where is Adri… an?” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, but the moment his name slipped from her lips, the memory crashed into her like a tidal wave.

He was dead. He had died during the chase.

He had fallen from the cliff and perished.

“Draven..?” Panic surged through her as she searched frantically, praying that this was merely a nightmare, that her memories were twisted and wrong. Her little brother was alive, somewhere nearby, sleeping peacefully.

But no matter where she looked, he was nowhere to be found.

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