I observed myself huddled under the shower, scrubbing my skin raw to erase the feeling of his touch, but it never worked.
The sensation lingered, gnawing at me. His mocking laughter still echoed in my ears, as if I was reliving the trauma all over again.
Another wave of pain dragged me in a different direction, and suddenly I found myself in a bedroom, sweating and gasping.
A nightmare?
I remained disoriented for several moments. I struggled to recall what had happened, and the throbbing in my neck reminded me of how the king had marked me before all those witnesses. Why had he done that?
The king in question was staring at me.
I felt my heart hammering. My mind refused to function as quickly as I needed. “My king… I…” I began stammering.
The king sat motionless on the bed’s edge. If I didn’t know better, I’d assume he was carved from stone.
The words died on my tongue because I genuinely had no idea what to say when the king showed zero reaction.
“What happened…” I pushed myself upright while the king watched me like a predator deciding how to devour its prey.
Was that fury I detected? I couldn’t be certain – my head remained foggy.
“What happened earlier,” I tried again, clearing my throat. Though I was sitting now, I felt incredibly small before him, both physically and mentally. “The mark…”
I touched my neck. The skin remained tender and painful, though not as excruciating as when the king had marked me.
I glanced at him through my lashes, but the king said nothing. He stared down at me, apparently restraining his rage.
Did he already regret it? I tasted bitterness when I spoke again.
“Will you… reject me now?”
A flash of anger crossed his features. “So you can whore yourself to your alpha again?”
Phoebe’s POV
The accusation in his voice hit me like a slap. My throat seized up, cutting off any words I might have said. This always happened when pressure mounted and anxiety took control. But the king couldn’t understand that – he read my silence as confession, as if I truly wanted Kevin back. Fury blazed in his eyes, and I could feel his desire to destroy me.
The urge seemed to grow stronger as I remained mute.
“Scram!” His temper exploded, and I watched terror flood my own reflection in his dark gaze as I scrambled from the bed and bolted for the door.
Fear consumed me so completely that I couldn’t even look back at him.
Once I escaped the bedroom and slammed the door shut, angry roars erupted from within. Glass shattered, furniture crashed – the sounds of his rage unleashed.
I didn’t linger to listen. My feet carried me down the hallway, desperate to escape the mad king’s fury. Terror drove every step. A rejection would be a blessing now – then I’d never have to face him again.
His overwhelming presence had been suffocating, and now I understood why they called him the Mad King. Had I stayed in that room, he would have beaten me senseless.
He was supposed to be my second chance mate – something shifters rarely received. This should have been my escape from the abuse in this pack, my path to a normal life. Instead, my second chance mate proved even worse than the first.
“Aria, what sin did I commit? Why do you torment me like this?” I pressed my back against my bedroom door and slid down to the cold floor.
My arms wrapped around myself as tremors shook my body.
The mark on my neck pulsed with searing pain, a cruel reminder that everything had been real. The king’s mark was real. It had happened.
While I battled the chaos in my mind, a knock jolted me from my misery.
I scrambled to my feet as the door swung open. Kevin stepped inside, triumph gleaming in his smirk when he saw my face.
My tears were obvious – still flowing down my cheeks. I said nothing, just stared at him with murderous intent, which only seemed to amuse him more.
“Come here,” Kevin commanded. “Come here and be good for me.”
No lock protected my room. The last time I’d locked him out, he’d torn the entire door apart and left me without one for a week as punishment.
After that, I never bothered with locks again.
“I know the king’s rejection hurt you,” Kevin said, assuming the king had cast me aside after hearing whatever lie he’d spread. “Don’t worry, you still have me. Like I told you – I’ll never let you go.”
When I refused to approach him, he crossed the room in two strides. His hand yanked mine roughly, slamming my body against his as he cupped my face.
His eyes found the fresh mark on my neck, still bleeding. The sight ignited his anger.
“So he hasn’t rejected you yet.” If rejection followed marking, the mark would vanish. Since the king’s claim remained, no rejection had occurred.
I clenched my teeth, breathing hard. His closeness always made me sick. I despised his touch, his voice, everything about him.
Kevin refused to believe my disgust was real. In his twisted mind, some bond still connected us despite the rejection, fed by his own obsession.
And I was the only one who satisfied him the way no other woman could.
“It’s okay… don’t cry over him. I’m still here.” He lifted my body and placed me on the bed.
I shut down completely. My expression went blank, my mind somewhere else entirely. I pretended I wasn’t there.
Kevin didn’t care about my mental state as he stripped away my dress – the same omega uniform from yesterday. My scent had changed slightly, which irritated him, but he had urgent business with me.
He’d been aching to be inside me.
As long as he avoided touching the mark on my neck, he’d be fine. The king wouldn’t sense any betrayal from me, and even if he discovered it, Kevin could spin the story.
After all, the king believed I was Kevin’s whore, begging to be fucked.
“I miss you,” Kevin said, hastily removing his shirt and unzipping his pants. “I won’t let you go to that Mad King. You’ll be safe here.”
He licked my cheek while I stared at the ceiling.
This wasn’t the first time I’d retreated like this, so my lack of response didn’t bother him.
He lifted my leg and pushed inside me with a blissful grunt.
“Yes, I missed this…” He thrust into me with vigor, the bed squeaking with each movement. His hands cupped my breast, squeezing hard enough to make me wince, which delighted him.
Phoebe’s POV
A potent sexual scent filled the air around us.
Kevin’s desire to sink his fangs into my neck was palpable – the king’s mark on my skin seemed to drive him into a murderous rage. He wanted to kill me for allowing it to happen.
I should have turned Perry down immediately.
I wasn’t worth this torment.
But Kevin held back from that final act, knowing he couldn’t let the king discover he’d claimed his mate. Instead, he crushed his mouth against mine, biting my lips and drawing my tongue into his mouth. His hand wrapped around my throat, applying pressure to my windpipe as he drove into me.
My body wasn’t prepared, and agony shot through me with each brutal thrust. Kevin showed no mercy. This was my punishment for letting another man mark me as his.
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