Marked By The Mad King Alpha (Phoebe and Perry) novel Chapter 110

Chapter 110: When the Soul Breaks

Perry’s Perspective

The clock chimed midnight as I finally stepped back into the bedroom. Phoebe was curled up tightly in sleep, her body folded in on itself as if trying to shield from some unseen pain. Scattered fragments of belongings lay broken and strewn across the room—she must have shattered them in a fit of anguish.

But honestly, I didn’t care about the ruined things. She could tear apart every single item in this room if it helped numb her suffering. None of it held any importance to me anymore.

She was the only thing that mattered.

I edged closer, observing how she had drawn herself into a fragile, protective ball, knees pulled up close like a frightened child trying to hide from the harshness of the world.

“Phoebe…” I whispered, bending down to press my lips softly against hers, barely more than a breath. I’d tried to keep my distance, but the space between us was unbearable.

Even though I knew I was poison to her, I couldn’t stop myself. Selfish, damn me.

“Let me have this moment, while you can’t push me away…”

Tracing her cheek gently with my thumb, I tilted her face toward me, craving a deeper taste.

She whimpered softly in her sleep, her brow furrowing, fingers curling into tight fists. Her hatred for me was unmistakable—but beneath it, her body still responded to my touch.

“What do I have to do to win you back?” I murmured, resting my forehead against hers. At this point, there was no boundary I wouldn’t cross.

She turned her face away, exposing the delicate curve of her neck.

My mark peeked through her tangled hair, a silent reminder. God, she looked breathtaking like this—lost in dreams, so fragile.

We would have had our child if only we could have saved them.

I squeezed my eyes shut, the memory stabbing at me. Marcela had explained how the poison had weakened everything inside her—even the pregnancy.

The baby was gone. Nothing could change that now.

I climbed onto the bed and pulled her close, breathing in the scent of her hair.

This stolen moment—touching her while she slept—was all I had before dawn forced me to leave again.

I held her tight and silently wished the night would never end.

Phoebe’s Perspective

The morning light filtered softly over my face as consciousness slowly crept back. The bed beside me felt empty, but warmth lingered on the sheets, as if someone had been there moments ago. I stared at that spot for what felt like hours.

Eventually, I turned toward the window, and my stomach sank.

The sun was already high in the sky.

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