Marked By The Mad King Alpha (Phoebe and Perry) novel Chapter 100

Chapter 100: The Sharpest Solace

Phoebe’s Perspective

A hollow void stretched inside me, vast and unyielding. It was the same emptiness I once experienced when I ate but tasted nothing—now, I couldn’t feel anything at all. An immense, aching emptiness gnawed at my chest, swallowing every flicker of warmth or hope.

Numbness washed over me, swiftly replaced by a tidal wave of raw, overwhelming emotion. These conflicting sensations strangled me from within. I felt utterly lost, unsure of how to process what I was enduring or how to move forward. All I desperately wanted was for this relentless torment to cease.

One moment, I yearned for sleep, craving the escape it might offer. The next, I felt restless and alert, as if I could stay awake for endless days. My body was weak—I couldn’t summon the strength to rise from the bed—but my mind refused to settle, trapped in a restless limbo.

Every time my hand instinctively pressed against my stomach, the crushing weight on my chest intensified, suffocating me further.

I had lost the baby.

My child was gone.

I hadn’t even realized I was carrying life inside me when it slipped away. There was nothing I could have done to prevent it. How was I supposed to grieve something I never truly knew existed? Shouldn’t I feel numb, or indifferent? Yet, the grief consumed me entirely, dragging me into a dark abyss.

My chest felt as if a heavy stone pressed down on it, squeezing the air from my lungs. How could this be real? How could I feel such devastation over something I hadn’t even acknowledged?

“Phoebe, how are you feeling, my lady? Do you need anything? Any pain I should know about?” Marcela’s voice, laced with concern, floated toward me.

I stared at her, watching her lips move, but the words didn’t register. It was as if I had detached from reality, observing everything around me from outside my own body.

This wasn’t a new experience—I’d felt this disconnection before, a drifting away from myself while my mind wandered—yet now, I was utterly severed from the world.

“If you’re hurting anywhere, please tell me, okay?” Marcela’s gentle tone was like a balm, soft enough to melt iron, but I felt nothing. Not even her touch could kindle warmth inside me. “I’m going to step out for a moment.”

I watched her leave the room, then turned my gaze to the window, where the garden outside bloomed with magnolia flowers, their delicate petals glowing softly in the daylight.

Once, someone had shown me this kind of care. But who? I couldn’t recall. A kind face with a radiant smile, a girl who had lost her family in the war. The girl I had called a friend—the first person to show me kindness in this place.

Mason.

Suddenly, the numbness shattered. Pain crashed over me in a violent flood, as if a dam had burst inside my chest, releasing every ounce of suffering at once.

“Ugh…” I doubled over, gasping for air.

My body wasn’t wounded—the physical injuries were healing—but it felt like thousands of blades were stabbing me relentlessly. Why did it hurt so much? Why did it feel like I was being beaten senseless?

“It hurts…” I whispered, clutching my chest desperately.

Breathe. Just breathe. Get a hold of yourself…

I repeated the mantra silently, struggling for every breath.

But the pain only worsened as my mind replayed that horrific moment: Perry killing Mason. The blood splattered across my face. The crimson trail staining the floor. The sickening metallic scent that lingered in the air.

Mason was gone. Dead. Murdered by my mate.

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