Mated To The Cruel Prince
Chapter 194: The Dark Fae Prince

Chapter 194: The Dark Fae Prince

Music Recommendations: Where the Shadows Ends - Banners

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"They kidnapped the queen and....." Aldric suddenly trailed off and Islinda who had been so engaged in the story looked expectantly at him, waiting for him to continue.

However, a minute went by and he still didn’t continue, so she beckoned him, "Aldric, you were saying?" Islinda drew near, anxious to hear the rest of the story. The suspense was simply nerve-wracking.

Aldric lifted his gaze onto her and Islinda froze at the dead look in his eyes. He was without emotion and a puppet might as well have narrated the rest of the story because he lacked life in him.

"They experimented on her with several dark Fae blood. On her unborn child." Aldric finally revealed the truth that made Islinda gasp, raising both hands to cup her mouth from the shock.

Islinda was too stunned to speak. She finally understood what Aldric meant by he was not born a dark Fae, rather he was made into one. They manipulated his Fate. Changed his life forever. Turned him into the very being his father detested. Such a sick joke.

Islinda felt her stomach churn and bile rose to her throat as she tried to imagine how traumatic the experience must have been for his mother, Queen Nova. It wouldn’t surprise her if the queen was never able to recover from the incident.

Aldric continued this time, but with a wry smile on his lips, "She was eventually rescued of course by my hero of a father and he poured down his wrath on the dark Faeries for daring to take his wife, his mate - not that he would admit it. He must have felt proud of his work, thinking he exacted revenge on his enemies. If only he knew his enemies were the ones who left this world with a smile on their faces for the mission fulfilled."

Aldric’s demeanor changed all of a sudden and his expression turned serious as he narrated, "Of course, my father was not unaware of the cursed rituals my mother was subjected to. He called upon the best healers to treat her and save his unborn son. They succeeded or so they thought," He said with a dark smirk, an ominous feeling in the air making Islinda gulp. She suddenly felt parched but didn’t dare to ask for water, scared to ruin the moment.

He stood up, she followed. The tension thick in the air.

"The long-awaited months were over and the prince was ready to be born except the expectation and smiles faded away with the first cry of the child because the prince was born with this -" Aldric suddenly ripped his tunic, shredding the material into two, the intensity startling Islinda until she realized the intention behind his move.

Nothing held her attention other than the ancient Fae runes on his chest glowing with magic. His magic. Aldric’s entire chest was tattooed with runes that also touched down his back and stopped short on his neck. But between the tattoos crawled shadows as if they were the same and couldn’t do without each other.

"The mark of the damned," Aldric explained when he saw how invested she was with the runes on his body.

Islinda looked at him before focusing back on the runes. She couldn’t tell where the confidence came from but she placed her hand on his chest tracing the awe-inspiring symbols that must mean something in the Fae language.

"Do all dark Faeries bear this mark? Is that how they identified? I do remember Maxi has some markings on her face which varies from yours. Why is that?"

"You’re right, the mark varies. The more markings you have, the stronger you are. I was not made with just one dark Fae blood, Islinda, but a legion of them..." His lips curled menacingly as if he took pride in being evil, "Why do you think I am called the dark Fae prince."

Islinda felt the breath leave her lungs realizing she was all alone with a predator that could devour her whole.

Tendrils of dark magic burst from Aldric’s body and yet it didn’t hurt her. As if he was intentionally teasing her and testing her bravery. But Islinda stood firm on her faith that he wouldn’t hurt her, at least physically.

However, that was the least of her problems currently.

While exploring the Fae runes, it dawned on her that she was touching a male chest, a well-defined one, and by the gods, she was about to suffer from a nosebleed. It was only his pants hanging from his hips, his torn tunic might as well be a rag - one that hid nothing aside from his arms from view. Thank the lord because there was only so much her poor heart could take.

And then there was his incredibly fit and sculpted torso. It was quite unfair how every muscle seemed to be sculptured by the gods themselves. The lower muscles of his stomach tamper down into a prominent "V" shape. For some strange reason, Islinda could not take her eyes off the point that led straight to where his massive member was hidden away.

She happened to recall at that moment the way he bent over Rosalind’s form and pushed into her with a savage thrust. Rocking his hips, pushing deeper into her body and fucking her hard till she was whimpering and writhing beneath him, pleading for mercy which he gave her not and wrecked her. And then he came with that hot sound that left her aroused.

"Are you even listening to me?"

"Huh?" Islinda was roused back to reality and shame washed over her. How could she objectify Aldric when he was opening up to her? She must have lost her damn mind. Something was going on with her lately, she could feel it. She was... changing.

Islinda stared down at the mark once more, careful not to let her mind stray away, and was cautious with the way she traced the marks.

She said truthfully, "They’re beautiful." Those tattoos looked better on no one but him. It was made for him. He was a fighter. A warrior. He survived. And she was surprisingly proud of him.

"Don’t look at me that way." Aldric growled at her with anger in his eyes.

Islinda stepped back, blinking in surprise. What did she do wrong this time?