Marked By The Mad King Alpha (Phoebe and Perry) novel Chapter 219

**TITLE: His Mercy Tastes Like Hunger**
**Chapter 219**
**Heartbreaking Truth**

**Phoebe’s POV**

As we held each other tightly, time seemed to stretch indefinitely, the world around us fading into a blur. It was only when Marcela finally pulled back that the weight of her words began to settle in.

“I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but your body isn’t strong enough to carry this pregnancy,” she said, her grip on my hands tightening as if she could somehow transfer her strength to me. “Please, Phoebe. The king flourishes with you by his side—don’t put both your lives at risk.”

I instinctively pulled my hands away, a surge of defiance coursing through me.

Stubbornness enveloped me like a thick fog.

Marcela, however, was unyielding. She had examined me earlier and was fully aware of the grim reality we faced. There was no room left for denial or false hope.

Every moment we hesitated only increased the peril I faced.

“Phoebe, forgive my bluntness, but I examined you this morning,” she said, her voice heavy with regret. “This pregnancy could take your life. I’m truly sorry. Your very existence is at stake.” With a heavy heart, she delivered the most devastating news of all. “You won’t survive the delivery—hell, you probably won’t even reach full term. If you both perish, what purpose does your sacrifice serve?”

I bit down on my lip, a desperate urge to argue bubbling within me.

I wanted to scream that I could endure this. That I would survive. But deep within, a gnawing truth settled like a stone in my stomach. She was right.

Marcela would never joke about something this serious; she wouldn’t lie to me. Well, she had once, but that was merely to shield me from pain.

“I’m so sorry. I truly am…” Marcela pulled me into her embrace as I broke down, sobs wracking my body against her chest. “I’m sorry. I wish there was something I could do to mend this. I wish I could make it all better for you. I’m sorry that I can’t help. I feel utterly useless.”

I shook my head vehemently, refusing to let her shoulder the blame. This wasn’t her fault.

“I’m sorry I misled you and caused this heartbreak with my poor judgment.” Tears streamed down Marcela’s cheeks as well. She felt my anguish, even if she could never fully grasp its depths. After all, she wasn’t walking my path, so to claim she understood would be a disservice to both of us.

But the tears wouldn’t stop flowing. My heart felt as if it were being crushed under an unbearable weight, and despite the exhaustion that clung to me like a heavy cloak, I couldn’t let go of the pain.

Fiona’s pregnancy had earned her a special exemption; she didn’t have to wear the silver bracelet that would endanger her baby.

But honestly, Fiona didn’t care about the exemption. All she wanted was to rid herself of whatever was growing inside her as swiftly as possible.

However, this child was their bargaining chip. They could use the baby as leverage against Allen whenever it suited them, but without it, they would be powerless—stripped of any means to negotiate.

At this moment, they were residing in Alpha Murphy’s pack house within the Whitestone Pack. Tomorrow, they would march on the palace, ready to confront whatever awaited them.

The warriors were housed in the quarters designated for them, but they were treated like prisoners. The other warriors regarded them with open hostility, their disdain palpable simply because they hailed from the Valerium kingdom.

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