Mated To The Cruel Prince
Chapter 112: Die In Aldric’s Hands

Chapter 112: Die In Aldric’s Hands

Aldric’s wicked smile turned her blood to ice. She always knew the dark prince had unusual tastes, but doing it in front of everyone, he must have lost his mind.

She lifted her hand to push him away, he caught her wrist and slowly pinned them above her head, arrogantly showing off his superior strength.

"Let me go!" Islinda hissed, struggling fiercely with him.

Unfortunately, Aldric seems to enjoy her struggles, his lips curling fiendishly.

"Why? Didn’t you want us to have fun?" He asked, arrogant amusement in his eyes.

Instead of boring him to death, she had excited him indeed. Islinda realized his action was deliberate. She challenged him and he rose to it. Aldric loved drama and she provided one for him.

While Islinda did not want to back down and wanted to see the challenge to the end, Aldric was sadly the most terrifying man, no, Fae she had ever seen. He was unstable and who knows, he might really make the threat a reality if she pushes him too far. Unlike her, he had nothing to lose.

She was not going to end up on his bed. While her relationship with Valerie ended rather tragically, Aldric was worse. He was arrogant, prideful, cold, cruel, and callous. Aldric was a Fae sent to destroy her and she would be a fool to let him in. Islinda refused to be deceived. Even if he had the beauty of a god, he was a monster within.

Islinda was about to beg him to let her go when something caught her eye and she finally saw it.

The medallion.

Aldric wore it around his neck and right now he leaned over her, it dangled in front of her like bait. All she needed was to reach for it and the medallion would be hers. She would finally have the chance to go home and be free of this place, this monster.

Islinda swallowed nervously, her hands beginning to itch while her heart raced faster. She looked into Aldric’s eyes and his curious gaze was boring into hers. Surely, he didn’t see her staring at the medallion and realize her intention, right?

Her breathing was heavy, what was she going to do now? What if she gives it her all and fights Aldric off, snatching the medallion off his neck before he knows it and portal away - even though she had no idea how it worked or where to go? It can’t be that hard to figure out, right?

No, Islinda fought off the rising temptation. She didn’t know Aldric thoroughly but one thing was clear, this looked too easy. As she noticed earlier, the medallion looked like bait just like giving worms to eager fishes and capturing them. She would not be a victim of his games again.

Islinda let out a deep breath, staring at Aldric in resignation.

She announced, "I’m hungry."

Prior to her words, her stomach grumbled loudly and the both of them heard it, heat rising to her cheeks.

Aldric got off her with a smug smirk that soon gave way to laughter that rocked his shoulders. Islinda rose off the table in a daze and wobbled. She became embarrassed with his laughter, what was so funny?

"So boring," Aldric said, "At least, you love my food."

Islinda blushed scarlet at his words, turning her face the other way. He doesn’t even prepare the food himself, what gives him the right to be so pompous? Nor would Islinda ever admit that the foods were so delicious and plentiful that it would be the only thing she misses when she escapes.

As someone who came from eating barely two square meals a day in the human realm to almost four square meals now, it was rather easy to get addicted to the treatment - even though it would come to an end soon. Now that she found out that Aldric wears the medallion around his neck, she would have to study his schedule carefully and find out a good time to steal the medallion. Aldric loves long games, she would practice the same this time.

Done laughing, Aldric snapped his fingers and it roused Aurelia and the line of servants and they resumed their activities like a burst of wind. A group quickly cleared the broken silverware on the floor while another group replaced its spot on the table, another set served the meal.

They served Aldric like the royalty he was and the servants moved so quickly and expertly as if they had done this over a million times. Was this an everyday experience? Islinda couldn’t help but wonder if Aldric has had other "guests" in the past. Was she the only one? It was one of the top questions on her list and of which she intended to get an answer soon. Either from Aurelia or somewhere else, hopefully.

"Are you not going to eat or are you throwing another tantrum?" Aldric asked, stirring her from her thoughts.

Her face grew hot under the scrutiny of his gaze.

He continued "Don’t do that. You’re a fragile human and need all the nutrients to not die."

Islinda huffed, "I don’t die easily."

"Of course, you wouldn’t die. That would be a huge loss for me." He said shamelessly.

Anger roused inside of her and she bit the inside of her cheek.

"Is that why you saved me yesterday? Because you didn’t want to lose your great invention to an accident?"

"Accident?" Aldric scoffed, a sudden darkness crossing his eyes, "Who told you that was an accident?"

A chill washed over Islinda and the spoon she held slipped from her hand and fell to the ground with a clatter without her even realizing it. However, a servant appeared by her side and picked it up in a blink of an eye, wiping it off with a clean napkin, and handed it back to her before returning to her standing position with the others.

Islinda did not have time to point out the noble treatment given to her, holding onto the spoon tightly as she asked with dread, "Are you trying to say someone attempted to kill me?"

She bristled at the thought, remembering the murderous look the Fae queen had given her last night. Was it her doing? The Faeries already wanted her dead that quickly.

Valerie warned her that most Fae disliked humans, and Aldric told her Fae’s were ruthless. Her situation was akin to swimming in an ocean full of sharks ready to rip her to pieces.

And to be honest, Islinda preferred dying in Aldric’s hands than anyone else’s.