Marked By The Mad King Alpha (Phoebe and Perry) novel Chapter 193

**His Mercy Tastes Like Hunger**
**Chapter 193: Our Unwanted Insurance**

Fiona stood there, her mind racing, convinced that she must have misheard Reginald. The bewilderment etched across her face was palpable. “What? What did you just say?” Her voice trembled, uncertainty lacing her words.

A surge of joy had washed over her when Reginald had finally accepted her, his fury seemingly quelled. But now, with his next words, she felt as though the ground had crumbled beneath her feet.

“What do you mean?” she pressed, desperation creeping into her tone.

“You can’t get rid of the baby,” Reginald reiterated, his voice steady and resolute. “I want you to keep the baby.”

Fiona’s eyes widened, disbelief flooding her senses. She stared at him as if he had completely lost his grip on reality. “This baby isn’t yours—you know that! Why on earth would you want to keep it?”

The weight of her own words crushed her heart, each syllable a reminder of the shame that burned within her. Reginald had to be out of his mind if he thought for a moment she would carry this child. Absolutely out of his mind.

“No, I won’t keep the baby! I don’t want it!” she exclaimed, her voice rising in panic. In a moment of desperation, she began to strike her own stomach, but before she could inflict any harm, Reginald was there, catching her hands in his firm grip.

“Stop it, Fiona! Fiona!” He shook her gently, urgency in his voice. “Fiona!”

Finally, she ceased her struggle, tears cascading down her cheeks as she met his intense gaze. “Why, Reginald? Why do you want me to carry another man’s baby? Am I not your mate? Shouldn’t you feel rage, too?”

“I am furious, Fiona,” he confessed, his eyes darkening with emotion. “I want to kill that old bastard, but what good would that do?”

“What do you mean, what good would it do?” she shot back, frustration mingling with her sorrow. “He degraded you by getting me pregnant! How can you tolerate this? Your mate, carrying another man’s child?”

The tears flowed freely now, each drop a testament to her inner turmoil.

“You need to see the larger picture here, Fiona,” Reginald urged, his voice softening as he tried to reach her. But her expression had gone blank, her mind seemingly detached from the reality surrounding them. He had to bring her back, to pull her from the abyss of despair. “Fiona, Fiona!”

He shook her again, leaning down to press his lips against hers, desperate to connect.

“My love,” he whispered, his breath warm against her skin. “I know this is tearing you apart, but please, do this for me. You said I could be with other women after what happened with Allen, but I don’t want that. I only want you. You’re all I want.”

As he pulled back just enough to gauge her reaction, he noticed a flicker of life returning to her eyes. She was listening, though her expression remained as stoic as ever, even his kiss barely breaking through her emotional barricade.

Reginald pressed on, determined to make her understand. “Allen has no son—this baby could be a boy, Fiona. This could be our passage into the Valerium Kingdom. You know how cunning that old bastard is. No one can guarantee he won’t abandon us. That’s why we need to protect ourselves.

Allen might betray us, but the baby will be our insurance.”

I caressed her cheek gently. “Did you sleep well?”

She nodded, her gaze drifting toward the window, where bright rays illuminated the room. She used to wake early, a habit ingrained from her days as an omega in her old pack, but that seemed to have faded away.

“But I didn’t,” I admitted, lowering my head to study her closely. “I didn’t get a moment of sleep,” I added, my tone tinged with playful annoyance.

‘Why?’ she mouthed, her lips forming the question.

I ached to hear her voice, to have her speak to me. “Because you consumed my thoughts,” I confessed, leaning in to kiss her lips again, watching as confusion danced across her features. I deepened the kiss until my clueless mate began to understand my unspoken words.

“Don’t deny me, Phoebe. I’ve been waiting patiently for you to wake up,” I whispered against her lips, eliciting a smile that lit up her face.

She wanted to tease me back, but the moment I covered her lips with mine, she couldn’t form the words. Instead, Phoebe wrapped her legs around my waist, guiding my hand to rest over her breast—a clear sign of her consent, an invitation for me to explore her desires.

I appreciated that she waited until she was awake, eager to share in the moment.

A low grunt escaped me when she did that, and in a fit of impatience, I tore off her dress, my desire overwhelming any sense of restraint. I shouldn’t have dressed her last night…