Marked By The Mad King Alpha (Phoebe and Perry) novel Chapter 202

**His Mercy Tastes Like Hunger**
**Chapter 202: The Price of Mercy**

**Perry’s POV**

“My king, I implore you, please reconsider. My mate is with child. This will be a tremendous burden on her. She simply won’t be able to endure it,” Turner pleaded, his voice trembling as he grasped the magnitude of my intentions regarding his mate. The sheer desperation etched in his features revealed the depths of his fear at the thought of involving a pregnant woman in my plans.

I had set my sights on Viola, using her as bait to lure out her mother. Tiara had been in hiding among the fugitives, managing to evade capture for far too long. This would mark their first encounter after years of separation, and I had learned that Tiara would go to great lengths for her daughter’s sake.

“If you agree to this arrangement, I will spare her mother from execution. She will be permitted to leave her cell once a month. Isn’t that what you desire?” I tilted my head, scrutinizing his reaction closely.

Turner had been fervently advocating for Tiara’s life, driven by the emotional turmoil of Viola’s pregnancy. The hormones coursing through her made her yearn for her mother, filling her with a sense of longing and desperation. As her mate, Turner had tried every possible way to bring her joy, but the situation was far more complex than he could manage. Tiara was a fugitive facing imminent death unless…

I decided otherwise.

For what felt like an eternity, Turner remained silent, his internal struggle palpable. I could almost see the battle waging within him. He wanted to save Tiara for his mate’s sake, yet the thought of putting Viola in jeopardy filled him with dread.

I scoffed, observing my senior warrior with a mixture of pity and disdain. “I understand your instinct to shield your mate. I share that sentiment. But let’s not forget the rage I harbor for what your mate did to mine back in their old pack. All of Phoebe’s suffering, the vile rumors, and the pain—those were consequences of your choices to flee, leaving my mate to bear the burden alone.”

Turner’s head drooped further, his acknowledgment of the truth evident in his posture. He understood that my retribution would be anything but lenient.

“If you remain undecided, let’s bring your mate here. She can voice her desires,” I suggested, my tone leaving no room for argument.

I linked with a warrior, instructing him to fetch Viola while Turner struggled to find the right words. His uncertainty about involving her was written all over his face.

But I was resolute—if this matter concerned her, she deserved to have a say, even if Turner already anticipated her response.

Moments later, Viola waddled into the war room, confusion evident in her eyes as she tried to navigate her heavily pregnant form. She had been summoned here instead of the throne room, and the sight of her mate kneeling sent her into a panic.

“Turner?!” she exclaimed, dropping to her knees beside him with great difficulty. Turner reached out, steadying her as she struggled to catch her breath.

Not fully grasping the situation, panic surged within her, prompting her to plead. Fear of my wrath loomed over her like a dark cloud. When someone triggered my anger, the outcome was often dire—death was a frequent visitor in my realm.

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