Mated To The Cruel Prince
Chapter 377: Doomed

Chapter 377: Doomed

"Where is she?" Aldric demanded from the dinner table, his gaze falling on the Fae who returned alone.

Marimar’s nervous gaze darted across the hall, desperately seeking another Fae to take her place. She had been thrilled when Prince Aldric promoted her to Aurelia’s position, but now she felt trapped in a precarious situation. She feared losing a limb or worse, her head, all thanks to Lady Islinda.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Marimar answered, "My prince, Lady Islinda has expressed her desire not to join—"

Before Marimar could finish her statement, a crashing sound echoed throughout the hall, causing her to nearly jump in fright. She couldn’t bring herself to meet Prince Aldric’s eyes, but she could sense his burning fury. The room suddenly grew colder, her own breath forming mist in the air. As if the raging storm outside the castle was not enough, Marimar, being a spring Fae, found the temperature deeply unsettling.

Marimar dared not move, especially with Prince Aldric’s impending steps drawing nearer. She held her breath and squeezed her eyes shut, silently praying to the gods that this wouldn’t be the end for her. Why did Islinda have to put her in this position?

Her heart pounded in her chest, and she only exhaled when she saw Prince Aldric storm past her, her head still securely attached to her neck. He stormed out of the dining hall, leaving an air of tension behind.

"By the gods!" Marimar gasped in relief, her legs nearly giving out from under her. Her neck ached from bowing her head for so long.

She wasn’t the only one relieved by the prince’s departure. Every other Fae in the hall seemed to release their breaths, realizing they could once again breathe more easily. None of them dared to breathe carelessly in Prince Aldric’s presence, especially not when his expression was so grim it seemed like he was capable of summoning lightning from the sky.

Marimar stared at the door, a foreboding feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. While she may have escaped Aldric’s wrath, the same couldn’t be said for Lady Islinda. The dark Fae prince, consumed by negative energy, was on his way to confront her, and there would be no one to save her. Islinda wouldn’t be spared from his anger.

Meanwhile, all Aldric could see was red, his head pounding with the weight of his anger. He had run out of patience and could no longer tolerate Islinda’s tantrums. He refused to let her starve under his watch. Either she would join him for dinner, or he would force-feed her. Maxi’s advice about giving her space be damned.

Aldric had thought that his visit the previous night would change her mind, but he received reports that morning that the food left in her room remained untouched. He had hoped the hunger pangs would teach her a lesson during breakfast, but Aldric had forgotten one crucial detail. Islinda had grown up with little to no food in the human realm, so fasting was of little consequence to her.

Although Aldric’s duties kept him occupied for the rest of the day, his mind kept going back to Islinda, and he believed this time she wouldn’t reject his food. Unfortunately, he was proved wrong when Marimar returned empty-handed. No Islinda. No food.

Aldric did not hold back his oppressive aura, releasing it massively, not minding that it discomforted the Fae serving him — it delighted him to make them suffer. He was too angry to care, as if wanting everyone to share his misery. Yes, the prince was that demented.

Thus, every Fae who saw him coming in the hallway quickly turned the other way and scurried away as fast as their legs could carry them. They knew what it meant when the prince was in this mood: heads were sure to roll.

When Aldric approached her room, he glared at the door standing in his way with so much intensity that if the wood had life, it would have screamed for its life. Like the annoying brute he was, Aldric was too furious to knock; he kicked the door open, the poor hinges nearly breaking off from its frame.

Aldric strode into her room, his nose flaring when he saw Islinda seated and staring out the window, unbothered by his epic appearance. Was he now so powerless she doesn’t even acknowledge his presence? Her indifference only fueled Aldric’s anger, and he approached her with purpose.

The dark Fae prince had no idea what he would do to her, but he knew it wouldn’t be pretty. He had to teach her why he was feared and revered because it seemed she had forgotten.

However, before he could get to where she was seated, Islinda got up on her feet and whirled around; their eyes connected, and Aldric halted at once. He was confused for a split second, especially as she sauntered over to him, trying to understand her intention.

Aldric had assumed she would stand her ground, and then he would drag her off the seat, wrapping his hand around her throat and watch the light leave her eyes as he strangled her. He would not kill her but keep her on the verge of both — life and death — enough of a lesson for her not to disparage his invitation next time.

However, Aldric was now the one confused, especially when Islinda walked to him, threw her arms around his neck, and pulled him down to her even as she went on her tiptoes and crushed her lips on his.

Alright, no, wait a minute....

Aldric stiffened the instant she felt Islinda’s soft lips on his. What was going on here? His mind seemed to have fried the instant Islinda kissed him. Whatever anger Aldric was feeling dissipated with that gesture like a flame doused out with water.

She deepened the kiss as if sensing he was about to retreat, and Aldric could not fight against her. He was susceptible to her seduction after all. And if Islinda knew the power she had over him, there was only one word for him.

Doomed.