Chapter 240: Chapter 240 Beast Unleashed
Perry’s POV
The moment I confirmed Phoebe wasn’t among them, every restraint I’d maintained for her sake shattered like glass.
The beast that had been clawing at my ribs, demanding blood, finally broke free from its cage.
Eight warriors launched themselves at me in perfect synchronization—a coordinated assault meant to overwhelm through sheer numbers. Their strategy might have worked against any other opponent.
They forgot who they were facing.
My wolf erupted in a bone-rattling roar that sent tremors through the ground beneath our feet. Trees shuddered. Birds scattered from branches in panicked flocks.
They’d forgotten the title I carried: The Mad King.
The first warrior to reach me discovered exactly why that name struck terror into the hearts of seasoned fighters. My claws raked across his chest, tearing through muscle and bone like paper. His ribcage cracked open with a wet, satisfying sound.
Blood sprayed across my face in warm droplets. I licked it from my lips, tasting copper and fear.
"Attack him! All of you!" Maxwell’s voice cracked as he screamed orders to his dwindling forces. Only fifteen warriors remained breathing after their failed assault on the pack house.
This was suicide. They knew it. I knew it. But they had nowhere to run, so if death was inevitable, they’d try to drag me into hell with them.
Admirable strategy. Futile execution.
The second wave came harder, more desperate. Claws found purchase across my shoulders, drawing lines of fire down my back. I barely felt the sting before my accelerated healing sealed the wounds.
In return, I grabbed the nearest warrior by his throat and squeezed until cartilage popped. His windpipe collapsed under my fingers. I held his dying gaze as the light faded from his eyes, then tossed his corpse aside like discarded trash.
Within the first hour, six warriors lay dismembered around me. Their blood soaked into the earth, turning soil into crimson mud beneath my feet.
Nine beasts still circled me, including that royal gamma Maxwell. Their formation was tighter now, more cautious. They’d learned that rushing meant death.
Smart. But not smart enough.
"One final push!" Maxwell rallied his survivors, desperation bleeding through his alpha command. "This is our only shot!"
They came at me with everything they had left. Claws raked across my face, opening gashes that immediately began to close. Teeth found my shoulder, sinking deep before I twisted away, taking chunks of the warrior’s jaw with me.
Pain was nothing. Pain was fuel.
I caught one beast mid-leap and drove my claws through his sternum, feeling his heart stutter against my fingertips before going still. His blood ran hot down my arms as I flung his body into two others, sending them sprawling.
This was who I truly was beneath the crown and the carefully controlled facade. This was the monster Phoebe had never seen—the one I’d hidden from her gentle nature.
The carnage was beautiful in its brutality.
Maxwell’s confidence crumbled as he watched me tear through his remaining forces without showing a single sign of fatigue. If anything, savage amusement flickered in my eyes.
I was enjoying this. The hunt. The kill. The way their fear smelled sharp and acidic in the air.
Before Maxwell could decide between a strategic retreat or a final desperate stand, I surged forward and claimed another victim. My jaws clamped around the beast’s throat while my claws anchored deep into his torso.
Then I wrenched his head clean off his shoulders.
Vertebrae popped. Muscle tore. Blood gushed from the severed neck in pulsing streams.
The head rolled across the ground and came to rest at Maxwell’s feet, dead eyes staring up at him accusingly.
"Retreat! Retreat!" The panic in Maxwell’s mindlink command was tangible. Only six warriors remained as I systematically eliminated them one by one.
They stood no chance. My wounds had already healed completely, leaving me wearing nothing but the blood of my enemies like war paint.
"Fall back! Fall back!"
If fifteen couldn’t bring me down, what hope did six have? Maxwell gathered his survivors and turned to flee.
But I wouldn’t let them escape. Not after they’d threatened what belonged to me.
They’d entered my territory. Attacked my pack. Taken my mate.
None of them were leaving here alive.
I caught another warrior as they attempted their retreat. This time, I took my time. My claws carved slowly through his face, creating a grotesque gash that split his skull from ear to ear. Then I ripped his jaw apart with deliberate precision and plunged my hand into his chest cavity, tearing out his still-beating heart.
Unnecessary brutality? Perhaps. But it satisfied the bloodlust I’d suppressed for months—all those times I’d held back because I knew my gentle mate despised violence.
Now I set my sights on the royal gamma.
Maxwell’s beast form was fast, but outrunning me was impossible. I tackled him to the ground within seconds, my full weight crushing him into the dirt as I snarled directly into his face.
Using my alpha authority, I forced his shift back to human form. The transformation rippled through his body involuntarily, bones cracking and reforming under my command.
I didn’t kill him immediately. I needed information about Phoebe’s whereabouts, her condition, what they’d done to her during her captivity.
My mate wasn’t with them—that much was certain. Otherwise, they would’ve used her as leverage the moment I started slaughtering their forces.
But I had to know what happened. I had to know how they’d lost her.
"Kill me! Just kill me!" Maxwell snarled through gritted teeth, understanding his fate was sealed either way. At least if he died quickly, the remaining four might have time to escape. "KILL ME NOW!"
I shifted back to human form and pinned him down, then deliberately snapped both his shoulders. The bones cracked like dry branches. Maxwell’s agonized scream echoed through the forest.
Broken bones were different from surface wounds. Depending on the severity, they wouldn’t heal for hours. Maybe days.
"What happened to her?" I asked with deadly calm, standing to grind my bare foot against his shattered shoulder joint.
Maxwell’s face contorted in agony, but he still managed a mocking laugh. The hatred burning in his eyes was murderous. "What? Worried about your precious little mate?"
His scream pierced the air as I applied more pressure, feeling bone fragments grind together under my heel.
"She’s dead," he gasped out between ragged breaths. "Fell from the cliff and died. Probably being eaten by vultures right now."
My storm-blue eyes darkened to the color of a hurricane as I increased the pressure on his shoulder. Maxwell’s back arched off the ground, his face turning purple from the pain.
"I won’t repeat myself," I said quietly. "Answer me truthfully, or you’ll be begging for death before I’m finished with you."
Maxwell had nothing left to lose. His warriors were scattered or dead. His mission had failed.
"Do whatever you want," he said, closing his eyes in resignation.
I honored my promise.
Instead of granting him the quick death he craved, I began severing his fingers one by one. Each cut was precise, methodical. I started with his pinky finger, then moved to his ring finger, feeling cartilage separate under my claws.
Maxwell’s agonized shrieks echoed through the forest as I removed three fingers from his right hand. Blood pooled beneath his mutilated limb, the metallic scent mixing with his fear-sweat.
"Stop! Stop that, or I’m going to kill her!"
The voice that rang out wasn’t Maxwell’s. And it wasn’t his threat that made me freeze mid-motion, my claws poised above his remaining fingers.
It was the familiar scent that suddenly drifted through the air.
A scent that made my blood run cold.
