Chapter 14: Chapter 14 I Prefer Things Difficult
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.
As my breath grew shallow and the pain became unbearable, I fought back.
This technique always snapped me out of my dissociative episodes. It forced my consciousness back to him.
Instinctively, I shoved against his body—the source of all my suffering.
But exhaustion weighed me down. The marking ritual had drained me, I hadn’t eaten since yesterday, and Kevin’s assault left me with no strength to resist.
"God, you’re so tight... I love how you clench around me like that," he growled in my ear, chasing his climax until he spilled himself inside me.
When his grip finally loosened from my throat, darkness claimed me. Panic flickered in his eyes as he realized I’d stopped struggling without him noticing—too consumed with his own pleasure to care.
"Phoebe..." His finger found my nostrils, checking for the warmth of my breath. His palm pressed against my bare chest, feeling for my steady heartbeat, which brought a smile to his lips.
I was alive, just unconscious. It had happened before when Kevin pushed too far. I’d recover in a few hours.
"Rest up, my little bitch. The day’s far from over, and you’ll need your energy—I’m nowhere near finished with you." He leaned down, his tongue sweeping the blood from my lips. A smirk crossed his face as bruises began blooming across my skin.
After he pulled out, I felt his release seeping from me, and his satisfied grin told me everything. He left it there deliberately, marking me with his scent. It would drive the king wild with rage.
If the king didn’t reject me now, he would soon.
——
Perry’s POV
Kevin strode from my room with renewed confidence, heading to his study to resume his alpha duties. In three hours, a small ceremony would see me and my entourage departing the pack.
He was certain I wouldn’t take a used woman like Phoebe with me.
"What the hell happened in here?" Flynn’s sharp intake echoed through the destroyed space. Furniture lay in splinters while I sat on the sofa, drinking wine straight from the bottle.
"Blowing off steam," I replied without concern. Nothing seemed wrong with this to me.
My violent tendencies were something Flynn understood yet feared.
What I’d survived, the abuse from my own family, had shattered something fundamental inside me.
Now I craved violence like an addict needed their fix. My nickname fit perfectly—not just because I’d slaughtered my entire bloodline, but because I truly was mad.
"You need to control these violent impulses," Flynn said, shaking his head as he settled on the ruined bed. He winced seeing how I’d torn it apart.
"Nothing’s wrong with this. Sometimes violence is necessary." I drained the bottle and hurled it aside.
"People are terrified of you."
"As they should be."
"You can’t live like this, Perry."
"Watch me."
Flynn fell silent, knowing better than to push this conversation further.
"Have you rejected her?" he asked bluntly, aware that I’d lose my temper if he talked in circles—I despised that.
I tilted my head lazily. After destroying the bedroom, calm had settled over me like an addict getting their dose.
"Why would I?"
Flynn’s brow furrowed. "What’s your plan with her? Will you take her back?"
"Obviously, she’s my mate," I said with dark laughter. "The Moon Goddess gifted her to me. I should treasure her, don’t you think?"
Flynn had known me long enough to understand that Phoebe’s life would be hell in my hands. I’d endured countless cruelties, which meant I knew exactly how to inflict them on my enemies.
"Perry, just reject her. It’ll be easier for both of you." Flynn didn’t dislike Phoebe, but her existence would be miserable if I claimed her.
"No. My life’s never been easy—why take the simple path now? I prefer things difficult." I cracked open another bottle. "Go get her. We leave in an hour."
"Perry, are you certain about this?"
One look from me sent Flynn dragging himself from the wrecked room to find Phoebe. Locating her wouldn’t be hard—everyone knew where she was.
——
Flynn knocked on the door, but a overwhelming scent hit him immediately. The nauseating smell of sex hung heavy in the air. Phoebe had just been with someone in this room, and Flynn could easily guess who.
