Marked By The Mad King Alpha (Phoebe and Perry) novel Chapter 97

Chapter 97: The Beast Stands Guard

Perry’s Perspective

“My king…” Marcela’s voice trembled as she reached out to him, her entire body shaking with fear and desperation. “Please, my king… calm down…” Her eyes followed the beast’s intense gaze, realizing with a sinking heart that he was locked onto his mate lying helplessly on the cold stone floor.

“Marcela… don’t…” Cameron’s voice was barely a whisper, fragile and strained. He held his breath, the tension suffocating, knowing that a single wrong move would spell his doom. Just like the warriors who had fallen outside, he was at the mercy of the Mad King’s fury.

“Come over here,” Cameron urged softly, his tone laced with both caution and urgency.

Marcela couldn’t quite see it, but Cameron understood the beast’s fixation perfectly. The Mad King’s eyes were filled with a fierce, obsessive protectiveness toward his mate, a raw and primal need that was impossible to ignore.

Among high-ranking male shifters, this kind of possessiveness was common, but the intensity varied depending on their dominance. None could compare to the Mad King. He was the embodiment of the beast itself—pure power, wild and unrestrained.

“Come here, you’ll only get yourself killed,” Cameron warned Marcela, torn between leaving his daughter alone with the king and trusting the strange bond that tethered the beast’s madness to reality. Even in his frenzy, the king’s beast never forgot his mate. That was the magic of the shifter bond—the mate’s presence kept the beast’s insanity from consuming him entirely.

But Cameron had spoken too much. His voice drew the beast’s attention like a beacon.

The enormous black wolf stalked forward, teeth bared and gleaming in the dim dungeon light. The beast crouched low, muscles coiled and ready to strike. Cameron knew with chilling certainty that he wouldn’t survive an attack. He was barely conscious, his body weak and trembling. Even the strongest warriors struggled to stand against the king’s wrath.

“My king, no!” Marcela cried out in terror as the beast lunged at Cameron.

This was the moment Cameron had feared—the end was near.

Yet, through the thick, suffocating tension of the dungeon, a soft voice cut through the chaos.

“Perry…”

The sharp ache in my lower abdomen made moving agonizing, but I summoned every last ounce of strength to call out his name. I didn’t understand why I did it. Despite the hatred I felt for my father, in that critical instant, I saved his life. It was as if something beyond me compelled the words.

“No, please…” I curled into myself, trembling uncontrollably. No matter how many blankets Marcela wrapped around me, the cold gnawed deep into my bones.

The beast froze. Inches away from killing Cameron, the black wolf stood still, locked in place by my voice.

For a long moment, the beast simply stared at my broken, pitiful form. He didn’t advance, but I could feel the heat of his gaze burning into me.

“Perry…” I stretched out my hand, tears streaming down my cheeks.

Then, warmth trickled between my legs, accompanied by the sharp, metallic scent of blood. I was bleeding heavily.

At last, Timothy dispatched the final warrior blocking their path.

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