Marked By The Mad King Alpha (Phoebe and Perry) novel Chapter 222

**His Mercy Tastes Like Hunger**
**Chapter 222: Something Felt Wrong**

**Phoebe’s POV**

“Phoebe, my primary responsibility is to ensure your survival. He cares for nothing else but you. You are the one person he wishes to protect above all others. Please, you must learn to value yourself. I can’t even begin to imagine what would happen to the king if he were to lose you.”

Marcela’s voice trembled as she spoke, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, and I could see the desperation etched on her face. The weight of her words pressed heavily on my heart, but I found myself unable to comply. The mere notion of ending my baby’s life—because that’s precisely what this would entail—felt like a dagger piercing through my very soul.

Even the knowledge that neither of us would survive if I chose to continue this pregnancy did little to alleviate the anguish that consumed me.

There was simply no escaping this inevitable outcome.

11:28

I understood the grim reality of the choice I had to make, the one that seemed so logical in the cold light of day. Yet, my mind spiraled into a whirlwind of endless possibilities. The torment of the “what ifs” gnawed at me, refusing to let go.

“Just go…” I whispered softly, my voice barely audible. I craved solitude, a moment to gather my thoughts and sift through the chaos swirling in my head.

“Phoebe…” Marcela’s fingers intertwined with mine for a fleeting moment before she placed the glass on the bedside table with a soft clink. “I’ll leave this here for you. Take it when you’re ready, alright?”

With those words, she turned and walked away, leaving me with a profound sense of emptiness. One last glance exchanged between us felt like a silent farewell, and then the door clicked shut behind her, leaving me alone in the suffocating silence. I could only imagine how her heart was shattering too; this was no simple burden for her to bear.

What made it even more unbearable was the flicker of hope she had ignited within me, a flame that only served to deepen my suffering.

“How’s the queen doing?” Wade’s voice broke through the heavy air as he intercepted Marcela just outside the door. He was blissfully unaware of the true gravity of the situation, only knowing that the queen was unwell and that Marcela had been summoned to assist.

“She’s managing,” Marcela replied, her breath shaky and uncertain. “She’ll pull through. Would you mind helping me prepare something in the kitchen? She hasn’t eaten much at all.”

Wade nodded, his face reflecting concern as he joined Marcela to make lunch, leaving me to my thoughts.

**Phoebe’s POV**

I hastily wiped my tears away, though the redness around my eyes told a different story. That dreaded glass sat there, taunting me, and I turned my gaze away as if it were something vile.

Eventually, I resolved to take a stroll in the garden. I left the glass untouched, refusing to even acknowledge its presence, as if doing so would be a betrayal to my very being.

But I wasn’t fooling myself; I knew I would drink it eventually.

For now, I longed to walk among the flowers and connect with the tiny life growing within me. It seemed absurd—beyond the waves of nausea, I couldn’t truly feel my baby yet. My body showed no signs of change, no outward indication of the life I carried.

Yet, none of that mattered. I craved these fleeting moments with my child, determined not to overthink our time together, even as I was painfully aware that it was limited.

As I wandered, Justin appeared in the distance, trailing behind me like a shadow. Marcela had given him strict instructions to keep his distance, to allow me my space.

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