Marked By The Mad King Alpha (Phoebe and Perry) novel Chapter 48

Standard POV Format

Four days had crawled by since Perry’s hands had nearly crushed the life from my throat.
Since then, I’d shut myself away—no visitors, no words, no sound. Just the steady pulse of silence and the dull ache that reminded me I was still alive.

The king hadn’t come. Not once.

Helen’s treatment had saved me, but once she confirmed I’d live, Perry left the room without a word. He hadn’t looked back. I didn’t know if that made things better or worse.

Mason brought my meals, cheerful as ever, pretending not to notice when I ignored her. I’d learned to fake sleep every time she knocked. But I couldn’t avoid her forever.

When she came again that morning, she carried the same soft smile, her eyes glancing toward the bandages still wrapping my neck. “You look better,” she said carefully. “I was worried.”

I didn’t respond. I’d hidden the vial behind an old book on the shelf—an ironic place for poison, behind a story about love.

Mason sat at the edge of my bed, folding her hands in her lap. “You don’t have to talk if you’re not ready. I just wanted you to know I’m here.”

The kindness made something twist inside me. I didn’t deserve it, and she didn’t know what I’d been asked to do.

“He didn’t mean to hurt me,” I blurted out before I could stop myself. “He was dreaming. It wasn’t real.”

Mason’s brows drew together. “Phoebe…” she said softly, like she was afraid of breaking something fragile. “He’s the king. You shouldn’t have to defend him.”

Her voice trembled—not from fear of him, but fear for me.

I turned away, hugging my knees. “What do you want from me?”

Her tone changed. “I want you to understand what’s really happening here.”

So I listened.

And for the first time, Mason told me everything.

About the underground movement. The people who had lost everything to Perry’s wars. The families destroyed. The leaders who whispered that the only way to stop the bloodshed was to end the Mad King himself.

“He doesn’t stop,” Mason said, her voice low. “Every city he takes just feeds his hunger for more. They say he killed his own family to get the throne—and I believe it. He’s been spilling blood ever since.”

I stared at her, searching her face for doubt. There was none. Only sorrow.

Her next words were almost a prayer. “He has to be stopped. My brother, my father, even my mother—they’re all gone because of him. If he stays on that throne, thousands more will die. You know that.”

Her grief sank into me like cold water. I couldn’t deny the truth in her words, but my heart rebelled against it. Perry was a monster, yes—but he was my mate.
And no wolf had ever killed their mate. Doing so was like killing a part of your own soul.

I clenched my fists. “Why me?”

“Because you’re the only one who can get close enough,” she said simply. “You’re the only one he trusts—even if he doesn’t act like it.”

My heart thudded painfully. My father’s voice echoed in my mind—one drop a day.
Was this what I’d been created for? A daughter turned weapon?

And for the first time, I realized something terrifying:
I wasn’t sure who the real monster was anymore.

Perry — POV

It had been a week since he’d last seen Phoebe.
A week since he’d nearly destroyed the only person fate had ever bound him to.

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