Marked By The Mad King Alpha (Phoebe and Perry) novel Chapter 6

Phoebe’s POV

From the moment my eyes fluttered open, a restless unease settled over me like a heavy fog. My heart pounded erratically, as if it were already warning me of some unseen threat lurking just beyond the horizon. I tried to convince myself it was nothing more than nerves—after all, today marked the alpha’s initiation ceremony—but deep down, I knew the truth. This gnawing anxiety had become a shadow that followed me relentlessly.

The pack house buzzed with frantic energy. Omegas darted through the hallways, their arms burdened with stacks of linens and gleaming silver trays. Their voices were low but hurried, carrying an undercurrent of tension. The arrival of the king had everyone on edge; no one dared to slip up under the watchful eyes of royalty.

I toyed with the idea of seeing the healer. My chest felt constricted, and a dull dizziness hovered at the edges of my vision—symptoms of too many nights spent sleepless and restless. But drawing attention to myself was dangerous here. Vulnerability was met with suspicion, even hostility.

“What are you standing there for? Move it!” Miss Kira’s sharp command sliced through the corridor. The senior omega’s piercing gaze locked onto me like a predator sizing up its prey. She ruled her domain through intimidation, her round face hardening whenever she looked my way, as though my very existence was an affront.

Everyone else scrambled at her orders. I didn’t. I’d long since learned that reacting only fueled her cruelty. She seemed to take a twisted pleasure in trying to provoke me, but I refused to give her that satisfaction.

Somewhere along the way, I’d stopped feeling much of anything. The ache of pain had dulled to a faint background hum; even the gnawing hunger that once consumed me barely registered anymore. I drifted through life in a numb haze, a world drained of color and warmth.

So when Kira barked “Move!” again, I lowered my gaze and resumed polishing the silver tray she thrust into my hands. My arms throbbed with exhaustion, and my vision blurred at the edges, but I kept going. Rest was a luxury I’d never been afforded—and one I had long stopped expecting.

My cleaning duties led me to the guest wing. As I pushed open the next door, I froze. There, standing in the dimly lit room, was Reginald—not alone. The sight didn’t surprise me; nothing about him ever did. The omega he had cornered immediately stepped back the moment they noticed me.

Reginald’s expression twisted into a scowl. “What are you staring at? Get out!” he snapped.

Without a word, I obeyed. My face remained impassive, and that seemed to enrage him even more than any insult could.

The ceremony was still hours away—plenty of time for him to unleash his temper. I was nearly at the end of the hall when he caught up to me, his hand shooting out to grab my elbow and slam me against the cold stone wall.

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