Marked By The Mad King Alpha (Phoebe and Perry) novel Chapter 164

“You’ve achieved your goal. Now it’s time to fulfill your end of the bargain,” Reginald asserted firmly to the royal beta, Allen, that afternoon, having just come from a tender moment with his mate.

Fiona had spiraled into utter despair. Her tears flowed endlessly, a constant reminder of her anguish. She turned away from food, resisted sleep, and dedicated every moment she was awake to her heart-wrenching sobs.

Reginald felt a growing reluctance to return to his chambers. The sound of her mournful cries disrupted his peace, forcing him to squander precious time trying to soothe her. Just the day before, in a moment of frustration, he had struck her face when she had screamed at him. It had silenced her, though only for a moment, leaving behind a haunting echo of her weeping.

“Of course. I never go back on my word. You needn’t worry about that,” Allen replied, his tone steady.

“Good. What’s the timeline?” Reginald inquired, eager to move forward.

“Seven days,” Allen stated after a moment’s thought.

“Excellent.” Reginald’s smile radiated satisfaction, a glimmer of hope amidst the turmoil.

“One more thing—could I borrow your mate again? It would really help to ensure everything goes smoothly. She was remarkable.”

A mischievous grin spread across Allen’s face. “A bit stiff at first, but once she warmed up, she was simply phenomenal.”

**Perry’s POV**

Sleep had eluded me entirely. I lay awake, waiting for Phoebe to awaken, and when she finally did, I found myself wishing for just a little more time—time for her to gather strength before I shattered her world with the truth.

As Phoebe’s eyes fluttered open, the memory of my promise from the night before seemed to wash over her. I had something significant to share.

Her hands reached up, framing my face delicately, her gaze silently asking the questions her lips couldn’t articulate.

“I’ll explain everything, but you must understand—no matter what has happened, you are the only one I desire,” I murmured, pressing my lips to her palms as she nodded, her acceptance coming far too easily. She had been desperate to grasp the torment that had plagued me, entirely unaware of the devastation the truth would bring upon her.

Throughout the long, sleepless night, I had racked my brain for the gentlest way to convey this painful revelation. Yet, despite my best efforts, the right words eluded me. How could they be found? Even the most exquisite poetry would offer no protection from this heartbreak.

“What are your feelings on adopting a child?” I ventured, needing to gauge her reaction first.

Confusion knitted her brow. ‘Why?’

“Just share your thoughts with me.” I couldn’t elaborate just yet.

Inside, Phoebe’s heart raced. Something deep within her seemed to sense the impending storm.

‘Tell me.’ Her fingers traced my cheeks, maintaining a calm exterior while a tempest brewed within her, ready to explode. ‘Tell me.’

“You won’t be able to carry a child, Phoebe. Not without endangering your life.”

She already knew. From the very beginning, when Marcela had reacted strangely to her inquiry about fertility potions, the truth had lingered in the air.

What more could I say? She needed time to process, to sift through her emotions, yet I wouldn’t allow her that space.

Silence enveloped us, stretching painfully between us. The air was thick with tension until, in a sudden explosion, the door splintered under the force of my kick, hanging uselessly from its hinges.

I stood there, fury igniting in my eyes. For a fleeting moment, Phoebe caught a glimpse of the Mad King lurking within me, but as I stepped closer and enveloped her in my arms, she understood that she was safe.

“Don’t run from me. Never flee from me like that, and don’t hide your pain. I wasn’t upset about the news itself—I was devastated because I knew it would hurt you. And it does hurt you. I considered keeping it from you, but I knew you would hate me even more for that.”

I wasn’t wrong in my thinking. No matter how agonizing the truth was, Phoebe would always choose honesty over deception.

Yet, knowing this didn’t lessen the pain.

Eventually, Phoebe could no longer hold back. She sobbed violently against my chest, and I held her tightly, trying to prevent her from completely unraveling.

“I love you, Phoebe. I don’t care about children. I only want to spend every remaining moment with you by my side.”

My words offered some solace, but her mind raced with thoughts: How would we navigate this situation?

This was merely the beginning of our disaster once the world learned of her condition.