Mated To The Cruel Prince
Chapter 447: Resurrection 2

Chapter 447: Resurrection 2

Peace, unlike any other, enveloped Islinda. It was warm, comforting, and sweet, and she didn’t want to let go of that sensation. However, it didn’t last forever, as a sharp pain ripped through her, causing her to awaken with a startled gasp.

Islinda stared ahead, but everything was blurry to her. Her head throbbed as if a thousand drums were pounding inside it. She blinked a few times, slowly her vision returning. The pain had lessened to a tolerable level, but she ached all over as if she had been trampled in a stampede.

But there was no stampede. The last thing she could remember... What was the last thing she could remember? Islinda strained her brain to recall, and then the memories came rushing back, causing a surge of pain to slice through her mind, making her wince.

She remembered someone attacking her, and then stumbling to the balcony where she fell. She was supposed to be dead. What was happening? Was this her soul observing the scene? She had heard of the soul being separate from the body after death, but she felt strangely alive. And where was her body if she was in spirit form?

Suddenly, the world came into focus, everything becoming clear, and she saw someone hovering over her. The face was familiar, it was Andre. Wait, he could see her? Wasn’t the whole point of being a spirit that you were invisible? This was strange, but she felt a coldness enveloping her.

Click.

Everything quickly fell into place, and Islinda jerked to a sitting position, wincing in pain. She looked down at her side, where the assassin had stabbed her, only for her eyes to widen in shock.

What the heck?

This must be a trick of the eye, but Islinda couldn’t ignore the fact that her flesh was slowly closing up as if she had accelerated healing.

It appeared to be an optical illusion, but Islinda couldn’t deny that her skin was healing right before her eyes, closing up faster than normal.

In a bewildering moment that seemed to defy the laws of nature, Islinda found herself captivated by a phenomenon beyond human comprehension. Her gaze remained fixated on the inexplicable change occurring on her flesh. The wound began closing at a pace that should not be possible.

The gradual sealing of her skin went against the usual rate of recovery. She stared, wide-eyed and speechless, as every strand of tissue was meticulously guided into place by an unseen force. It continued until her skin was undamaged, except for the smudged blood, which now seemed inconsequential.

"Blessed grace," Islinda murmured, her mind blown away. What in the Fae had just happened? No, this couldn’t be possible.

Islinda lifted her face, only to realize that Andre was frozen in the same horrified expression. Their eyes met and collided in that moment. He had witnessed it too.

"It’s not real," Islinda denied, unable to accept what had transpired.

Still baffled, Andre confessed, "You were dead, Islinda."

Islinda swallowed, utterly terrified by what this could mean for her. What was he trying to say? No, this must be a trick resulting from staying in the Fae realm. Perhaps the air or something had changed her body and made her immune to death. Or maybe some special charm...

"My protection necklace!" Islinda’s eyes brightened with the idea, and she quickly reached for her neck, only to find it empty. It must have been ripped from her during the scuffle with the assassin. But if that was the case, then the necklace did not offer any protection...

"No," Islinda denied again.

"You weren’t wearing the amulet, were you?" Andre pointed out, then locked eyes with her. "What are you, Islinda?"

Islinda gave him a dirty look and scoffed, "Are you serious right now?"

Angry at Andre’s foolish question, she stood up quickly, only stumbling a little. Andre extended a hand to steady her, but she regained her footing. Her gaze fell upon the spot where her blood had stained the snow, the bright red standing out.

Islinda swallowed, knowing deep down that no human should survive such blood loss. But what could she do? She had been human for twenty-one years and some months of her life, only for a Fae prince to suggest that she might not be one. No, it couldn’t be possible.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to contain the panic surging inside her. This was not the time to fall apart. She had just apparently resurrected from death. Yeah, that wasn’t weird at all. So, when she opened her eyes, they glinted with determination.

"I need to get out of here. If the Queens sent someone to assassinate me, then they must be hiding somewhere, trying to confirm that I’m dead. I don’t want anyone to find out that I can apparently rise from the dead," she said, wincing at the thought of dying again. It had been peaceful, but now that she was back among the living, it filled her with goosebumps.

Andre pressed his lips together, deep in thought, considering whether or not to reveal his own thoughts about the attacker. Ultimately, he set them aside. First things first, he had to get her out of there. Her survival was a miracle, and they had to move before the Queen’s people launched another attack. What if Islinda couldn’t resurrect a second time? What if she had just gotten lucky? He had no idea who or what she was.

"Good idea!" Andre pulled her close to his body, not minding her clothes, which were bloody and wet from lying in the snow for so long.

"What are you doing?" Islinda asked, alarmed by the gesture.

"We can’t go through the door. They would see you in this state, and it would raise questions. So, we’ll have to climb back to my place," he explained, alluding to her bloody appearance.

"Fine," Islinda said hesitantly as his arm wrapped around her waist. "Just don’t drop me."

Andre smirked, glancing at the spot where her blood stained the snow. Islinda followed his gaze and saw the scene before goosebumps washed over her. She must have truly died at that moment.

She felt a powerful gust of wind, causing a large amount of snow to be disturbed and dumped over the spot, concealing the mess.

Islinda turned to Andre, surprised.

He cleared his throat. "The sight of blood would raise questions. It’s best to leave it buried."

Islinda nodded in understanding but remained silent.

He then instructed her, "Hold on tight."

When Andre mentioned climbing back to his place, she had assumed they would literally climb the palace walls. However, Andre leapt, propelling them high into the air, and Islinda screamed at the top of her lungs, quickly clinging to him. Damn him! She was going to kill him once this was over!

Islinda’s fears about being seen were justified, as a figure in the shadows hurriedly retreated.