Marked By The Mad King Alpha (Phoebe and Perry) novel Chapter 82

Chapter 82: He Could Not Help It

Phoebe’s Perspective

Mason’s face drained of color, her eyes widening in disbelief. Her mouth opened as if to protest, but no words emerged. The expression I fixed on her was far from my usual softness; instead, a steely resolve burned in my gaze.

“Mason, please,” I implored, reaching out to take her hand firmly in mine, locking eyes with her. “Your goal is to end the war, isn’t it? You don’t have to start a civil war against the king to achieve that. More bloodshed will only make things worse.” I squeezed her hand gently, hoping to convey my sincerity. “Just give me some time. Can you do that for me?”

She hesitated, her voice barely above a whisper. “What am I supposed to tell the people in the Movement?”

Mason lowered her head, avoiding my gaze. I could almost feel the weight of betrayal pressing down on her. “You can convince them to give me that time. I promise I’ll do everything I can to persuade the king to bring this war to an end.”

I tightened my grip on her hands, my voice soft but urgent. “There’s no need for more lives to be lost. War always demands a terrible price.”

“But maybe it’s for a cause greater than ourselves,” she countered, her tone edged with bitterness.

I shook my head firmly, unwilling to accept that justification. “No cause is worth a single death.”

Her head snapped up sharply, my words clearly striking a nerve. “And yet, the man you’re defending right now has killed people simply because he could.”

Her accusation hit me like a blow. I had no immediate response. I pressed my lips together, staring at her, knowing deep down I couldn’t change her mind.

“I’ll take my leave. Good night, my lady,” Mason said, pulling her hands free and rising to leave.

All I could do was watch her retreat, a painful knot tightening in my chest. What would she do next? What would she tell the Movement? My heart ached with fear and uncertainty.

I cursed my own naivety for believing Mason might listen or consider my solution. Nothing was ever that straightforward.

I remained seated, feeling utterly defeated, my gaze distant as I pondered what would happen when they learned I had abandoned their plan.

Mason and Reginald were the only members of the Movement I knew personally. But if Reginald was involved, it meant Kevin was too.

And my father…

I had no idea who their spies within the palace were. They could ambush Perry at any moment and kill him. The mere thought churned my stomach.

“What did you say?” Reginald’s voice was thick with barely contained rage.

“She backed out,” Mason repeated quietly.

“No fucking way!” Reginald cursed under his breath, fury radiating from him. He had just learned that Perry had captured Kevin and former beta Cameron, both heavily guarded and being brought here.

He was at a loss for how to react, but it was clear trouble was about to explode. They had been so close to killing the king—and now this.

“Why?! Why did she back out?!” Reginald struggled to keep his voice down; they weren’t alone.

They stood in a corner of the bustling kitchen, surrounded by the hum of conversation that masked their words. Still, if Reginald lost control and raised his voice, everyone would notice.

Several people already glanced their way, curiosity evident in their eyes. From an outsider’s perspective, it probably looked like a couple arguing.

They weren’t a couple, though Reginald didn’t mind the misconception. He didn’t care what others thought—his mind was a storm of chaos.

“Why?” Reginald demanded in a low, threatening tone that made Mason flinch.

Mason recounted everything Phoebe had told her—the solution I’d proposed and how civil war would only bring more death. In truth, Mason knew my plan made sense. She might have agreed if not for her own thirst for revenge.

She wanted the king dead. Because of him, she’d lost her parents, and that was unforgivable. She was being selfish, and she knew it.

“Stay close to her. I’ll tell you what to do later,” Reginald ordered before storming off.

Mason lowered her head, feeling defeated. She didn’t want to be near Phoebe again. Her feelings were tangled and complicated. She had enjoyed their closeness before because she liked her, but now that their beliefs diverged so sharply, genuine warmth was impossible.

“What happened? Are you involved with him? Were you fighting?” one of the omegas who had watched Reginald’s outburst approached Mason cautiously.

“No, it’s fine. I’m okay,” Mason replied, neither confirming nor denying. The omega sensed her mood and didn’t press further.

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