Mated To The Cruel Prince-Chapter 788: Aldric Was Losing

The alarm blared across the arena once more, a deafening signal that sent a thrill of anticipation through the crowd. Islinda didn’t need anyone to tell her what it meant. The match was starting. Her heart pounded in her chest, her breath quickening as Aldric and Valerie both let out a cry and charged at each other.

It was a sight to behold, the two princes—one wreathed in fire and the other in cold—racing toward each other with deadly intent. Just when it seemed like they would collide, Aldric twisted his body with agile precision, avoiding the crash. Both came to a sudden halt, standing back-to-back, their chests heaving. Despite the short sprint, everyone in the arena knew the raw power packed into that confrontation.

The crowd sat on the edge of their seats, waiting. Valerie’s brow furrowed as he noticed a sharp pain. His hand reached instinctively to his side, and when he pulled it back, it was covered in blood. That bastard! Aldric had managed to draw first blood.

The instant the audience saw it, chaos erupted. The Winter Court went wild, their cheers reverberating through the stands. The Fae thrived on violence and power, and Aldric had delivered both. The taste of blood, the promise of death—it was intoxicating.

But Aldric hadn’t escaped unscathed either. His own hand moved to his cheek, coming away bloodied. Valerie had cut him as well. Aldric’s nostrils flared in irritation. "Not the face," he thought bitterly. That bastard.

The sight of their own blood seemed to remind both princes that this was not merely a spectacle; one of them would die today. And both were determined it would not be them. freēwēbηovel.c૦m

Islinda’s heart caught in her throat as Aldric and Valerie charged at each other again, weapons clashing violently. Sparks flew as steel met steel, the clash ringing out across the arena.

Valerie, threw Aldric off balance, taking the opportunity to stab him. But Aldric, ever the master of control, dodged the strike, lifting his spear to retaliate. Valerie deflected it with a quick motion of his sword, the two princes locked in a deadly dance.

Around them, the crowd was roaring in excitement, voices rising and falling with the action. The audience had divided into two factions—those who supported Aldric and those who stood behind Valerie.

One would assume that as the crown prince of Astaria, Valerie would have the overwhelming support of the Fae. But to everyone’s surprise, many of the nobles and commoners alike had placed their bets on Aldric. His reputation as the dark Fae prince was formidable, and they were convinced that he would emerge victorious. Hence more money for them. The stakes were high, and the gambling was intense.

It was clear from the beginning that Aldric and Valerie were evenly matched - or so they assume. Valerie fought with a fiery intensity, his desire to end Aldric evident in every strike.

Aldric, on the other hand, was on the defensive, his movements calculated and deliberate. But Valerie was relentless, pushing Aldric to his limits. The crowd gasped as Valerie launched a firestorm, the flames engulfing Aldric and sending him crashing to the ground.

"Boo!" Aldric’s supporters jeered in disappointment, while the Summer Court Fae erupted in celebration. It was clear that Aldric was not living up to the expectations many had for him.

Islinda’s heart clenched painfully in her chest as she watched Valerie straddle Aldric, raining down blow after blow. Aldric’s face was bloodied, and it seemed like he was done for.

"Come on, Aldric... do something," Islinda whispered, her hands gripping the edge of her seat. This wasn’t the Aldric she knew. He wasn’t one to be beaten down so easily.

She did not even notice Andre watching her intently, all of her attention on Aldric and the fight.

Just as Valerie raised his spear for what looked like a killing blow, Aldric shifted. With a swift motion, he kneed Valerie square in the crotch, and the prince let out a pained moan.

The crowd groaned in sympathy. That must have hurt. Hopefully, their prince would be able to father children after this.

Valerie stumbled back, clutching himself in pain, and Aldric seized the opportunity. With one powerful punch, he sent Valerie flying several meters, crashing onto the ground.

Aldric’s supporters roared in approval as he jumped back to his feet. Their prince was not done yet.

Valerie, seething with rage, sneered at Aldric as he staggered to his feet. Blood dripped from his lip, but his fury was palpable.

Aldric spat out blood, flexing his shoulder and smiling through the pain. "I hope you enjoyed that spotlight because it’ll be the last you see for a while."

"Enough talking!" Valerie shouted, charging again.

The two collided once more, their weapons flashing in the light. But this time, Aldric had the upper hand. He grabbed Valerie by his long, flowing hair and flung him across the arena like a ragdoll.

Valerie crashed into the barrier that protected the crowd, his body crumpling to the ground.

Aldric held up the strands of hair that had ripped free in his hand, smirking. "I wonder how much this would sell for in the markets?"

The taunt sent Valerie into a blind rage. Just like Aldric loved his face, he too loved his hair. And Aldric just gave him a low blow.

He scrambled to his feet, charging at Aldric with renewed fury. But it was a futile effort. Aldric grabbed him effortlessly, lifting him off the ground before slamming him into the arena floor with a bone-crushing thud. The ground shook from the impact, and Valerie spat out blood, his weapons scattered around him, forgotten.

Now it was Aldric’s turn to return the favor. He straddled Valerie and began delivering punch after punch, the crowd screaming with every blow. Valerie’s face was a mess of blood and bruises. Aldric grabbed his head, slamming it repeatedly against the ground, the sound sickeningly loud.

Queen Maeve, Valerie’s mother, could no longer sit idle. She sprang to her feet, but before she could act, King Oberon’s voice cut through the arena like a blade. "Sit down."

Her eyes blazed with defiance. "But he—"

"I said, sit down!" King Oberon’s voice was filled with power, his eyes glowing ominously. Even the surrounding nobles felt the weight of his command. Maeve, despite her fiery nature, knew better than to challenge him at that moment. She sat back down, her heart filled with bitterness and fury. How could Oberon let this happen? Valerie was the crown prince of Astaria. He couldn’t truly intend for him to die, could he?

Queen Maeve’s hands clenched in her lap, knuckles white with tension. She exchanged a glance with her co-wives, the other queens. It was time to act. They had a plan, though it was a little early to execute it. But if Aldric continued mocking the Summer Court like this, they would have no choice.

Just as Queen Nirvana moved to give the signal, there was a sudden cry from the crowd. Queen Maeve’s attention snapped back to the arena. Her heart soared. Valerie had slipped a short iron blade from his boot and driven it into Aldric’s chest. The dark prince let out a roar of pain as the iron burned through his flesh.

The Summer Court erupted in cheers, and Queen Maeve relaxed, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. The match was far from over, but Maeve was confident that Valerie might win this match afterall.

Aldric gritted his teeth as he pulled the iron knife from his chest, the searing pain coursing through his body like wildfire. Blood poured from the wound, and the cold air of the arena did nothing to numb the agony. But before he could gather his bearings, Valerie moved with the swift precision of a skilled assasin.

Without hesitation, Valerie retrieved another knife from his boot and sliced at Aldric’s arms. Aldric barely had time to react before Valerie slashed at the tendons in both of his feet. A strangled cry escaped Aldric’s lips as his legs gave way, sending him crashing to the ground.

The crowd erupted in a mix of cheers and gasps, but for Islinda, time slowed. Her heart lurched in her chest, every scream from Aldric echoing painfully in her ears. Her muscles tensed, and she began to rise from her seat, instinctively wanting to rush to his side, to stop this madness. But Andre’s firm hand landed on hers, gently squeezing as he shook his head.

"You can’t," he whispered. "This is their fight."

Tears welled in Islinda’s eyes, blurring her vision. Her heart ached as though Valerie’s blade had struck her instead of Aldric. Every moment, every second that passed, felt like an eternity of torment. Someone stop this, she silently begged. But no one moved.

Aldric struggled to stand, but his movements were sluggish, his strength sapped by the blood pouring from his wounds. He tried to raise his spear, but Valerie was merciless. He cracked a fiery whip into existence, the heat radiating through the arena, and lashed it around Aldric’s body.

Aldric screamed as the flames seared his flesh, and with a cruel twist, Valerie hurled him across the arena. Aldric’s body slammed into the barrier, the force of the impact shaking the protective magic, and blood sprayed from his mouth.

The arena fell silent, save for Aldric’s labored breathing. His once fierce, commanding presence was reduced to a bloodied, broken figure.