Marked By The Mad King Alpha (Phoebe and Perry) novel Chapter 2

Chapter 2

“What do you think you’re doing?!” The sharpness of the words cut through the damp air like a whip. Then came the brutal slap, landing with such force that my vision swam and blurred. The loud crack echoed harshly against the cold stone walls surrounding me. I collapsed onto the frigid dungeon floor, the chill seeping through the thin fabric of my clothes, biting into my skin. Instinctively, I curled into myself, arms wrapping tightly around my ribs as the breath was knocked from my lungs. I didn’t scream—not anymore. I had learned long ago that crying out only fed their cruelty.

“You bring nothing but trouble to this pack!” Beta Cameron’s voice was a low growl, thick with contempt, slicing through the heavy, damp air. His heavy boots scraped against the rough stones as he shifted his weight. I heard the deliberate movement before his foot lifted, poised to strike again—but then he hesitated. My stillness seemed to irritate him. He crouched down, his rough fingers brushing tangled strands of hair away from my battered face.

I was breathing, yes, but barely alive. My eyes stared blankly ahead, hollow and distant, fixed on nothing real. The pain had become such a constant companion that my mind barely registered it anymore. The emptiness in my gaze only deepened the harsh lines carved into Cameron’s face.

“Are you even listening to me?!” His voice snapped, harsh and demanding. The scent of whiskey and anger hung on his breath. “Phoebe!”

Footsteps echoed faintly down the corridor, growing louder until a figure appeared in the doorway. Kevin’s tall, confident silhouette filled the frame, each step measured and deliberate.

“My father wants to see you in his office,” Kevin said, his voice cool and dismissive. His eyes flicked briefly toward me, lying motionless on the cold stones, and a faint, cruel smirk tugged at his lips.

Cameron exhaled sharply through his nose, frustration clear in the sound, and rose to his full height. “Don’t move,” he muttered—a command that felt pointless—before he strode out, leaving behind the oppressive smell of damp stone and simmering rage.

Kevin lingered. The heavy door creaked closed, sealing us in the dim, suffocating silence. Then he crouched down in front of me, his shadow stretching long across the wet floor.

His fingers closed around my chin, forcing my head upward until our eyes met. “I told you I’d ruin your life,” he said softly, each word laced with venom. “And yet you thought you could run from me? You really believed you could escape your punishment?”

My vision cleared enough to focus on him. My cracked, dry lips parted as I rasped, “I don’t know where my sister is. I’ve told you—again and again.”

“Liar!” The back of his hand crashed into my face, harder than before. A white-hot flash exploded behind my eyes; for a moment, I thought my neck might snap.

Viola—his precious Viola. She wasn’t just his girlfriend; she was my stepsister, Cameron’s daughter from his mate before my mother died. Five years older than me, three years older than Reginald. Kevin and Viola had been the golden couple everyone expected to unite the packs. Their mating ceremony was supposed to have happened a year ago—until the day before the vows, when she found her fated mate and disappeared.

Kevin’s heartbreak had curdled into a fierce rage, and he needed someone to blame. Unfortunately, I was the one who had discovered Viola’s empty room. The moment word spread, his fury found its target in me.

No one ever questioned the alpha’s son. Reginald, my stepbrother, had eagerly joined in. After Cameron mated my mother, Reginald saw me as nothing but competition for attention—a nuisance to be crushed.

“Where is she?” Kevin hissed now, grabbing my shirt and tearing at the collar. His face loomed inches from mine, eyes wild and feral. “You were trying to escape to meet her, weren’t you?”

“I don’t care about her,” I whispered, tasting the metallic tang of blood in my mouth. “I just wanted to get away—from you, from this pack, from everything. This place is hell.”

His cruel smirk widened, cold and merciless. “Oh, Phoebe,” he murmured, almost mockingly fond. “You have no idea what hell really looks like. What you’ve felt so far? That was just the beginning.”

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