Mated To The Cruel Prince-Chapter 796: Danger To Eveyone

Prince Andre paced his private quarters, his heart pounding with anxiety. He knew he was in over his head the moment he brought Islinda here instead of seeking help. But he had no choice; the situation was too delicate. His instincts told him that this was the right move, but doubt gnawed at him nonetheless.

Islinda lay motionless on the bed, her skin pale but still warm. Andre’s thoughts raced as he stared at the gaping wound in her chest. The last time she had been injured, she had self-healed—a secret only he, Aldric, and Theodore knew. No one else in the palace was aware that Islinda was half-Fae, and in the chaos that had erupted, revealing that information would be dangerous.

The clash at the arena had been too well-timed to be a coincidence. Someone wanted Islinda dead, and Andre had no doubt it was Queen Maeve. The timing was perfect—just as Aldric was about to kill Valerie, the attack occurred. Queen Maeve would never let her investment in her precious son go to waste.

But there was something else—something more sinister that Andre suspected about Islinda. The witch’s revelation echoed in his mind, making him question everything. If what the witch had shown him was true, Islinda was not only in danger but could also be a danger to them all.

Yet, she remained unconscious, and it had been nearly an hour. Her self-healing had never taken this long, and Andre’s worry grew with each passing minute. Her heart wasn’t beating, and despite her warm body, she was as lifeless as a corpse.

Andre couldn’t take it any longer. He approached her, his gaze fixed on the wound that marred her otherwise flawless skin. What was he going to do? Should he call for a healer? The palace was in disarray, with all the healers dispatched to tend to the injured Faeries from the arena. The only healer left was the one attending to his father, King Oberon. But involving that healer would be too risky; the healer was loyal to the king, and Andre was keeping far too many secrets from Oberon about Islinda.

He considered his brother Theodore, who was a decent healer. But Theodore wasn’t known for his discretion, and if Queen Nirvana found out, it could lead to even more trouble. Then there was Mira, his niece, whose healing powers were exceptional. But Andre couldn’t bear to entangle her in this mess, not with such a heavy responsibility on her shoulders.

"Damn it," Andre muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He was out of ideas, and the pressure was mounting. He looked at Islinda once more, her still form haunting him. If it weren’t for the wound on her chest, she might have looked like she was merely sleeping. And then a thought struck him—what if she was?

Was there a way to reach her? Was she trapped somewhere between life and death, waiting for someone to pull her back?

Driven by an impulse he couldn’t explain, Andre leaned in closer and whispered into her ear, "Please wake up, Islinda."

Then, without hesitation, he pressed his lips to hers.

For a moment, nothing happened. Time seemed to stretch endlessly as he waited for any sign of life. Just when he was about to pull away, Islinda’s arms wrapped around him, holding him tightly as she kissed him back.

The sensation overwhelmed Andre. He had often wondered what it would feel like to kiss Islinda, to have her so close, and now he had his answer. It was exquisite, a pleasure that sent shivers down his spine and made his heart race.

But the euphoria didn’t last. Suddenly, something shifted. The pleasure that had coursed through him vanished, replaced by an agonizing pain that tore at his very soul. Andre’s eyes widened in terror as he felt his life force being drained away. He tried to pull back, to break the kiss, but Islinda’s grip was too strong, and he was powerless to stop it.

With each passing second, Andre felt himself slipping further into darkness, his energy being sapped away until he was nearly nothing more than an empty shell. Just when he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, Islinda released him, and he collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath.

He lay there, chest heaving as he tried to recover from the ordeal. He had seen his life flash before his eyes and was certain he was going to die.

At the same time, the gaping hole in Islinda’s chest began to heal. The wound closed up, and color returned to her cheeks. She awoke with a loud gasp, her eyes snapping open as if she had just been jolted back to life.

Meanwhile, Andre scrambled away from her, fear gripping him as he struggled to process what had just happened.

"Those bastards!" Islinda—no, Azula—cursed, her voice filled with rage as she clenched her fists. "How dare they use mercury on me?!"

Her gaze fell on Andre, who was still trying to catch his breath. She waved at him nonchalantly, as if nothing had happened. "Hello. Nice to meet you, Prince Andre."

What in the Fae?

Andre’s mind was spinning. This wasn’t Islinda—at least not the Islinda he knew. There was something different in her eyes, something darker and more dangerous. Something sinister.

"Who are you? You are not Islinda." Andre whispered, still trying to catch his breath.

"Of course, I’m not. I can’t be that loser. And I was right to call to you, else I would have been stuck in that state for God knows how long. At least someone’s useful in this place." she replied with a smirk, her tone almost playful. "Congratulations prince Andre, you deserve the privilege of knowing my real name. You can call me Azula."

"Azula..." Andre repeated, the name unfamiliar on his tongue.

Azula stretched, rolling her shoulders as if getting used to the feel of her own body after being locked away by Islinda. "Thanks for the kiss, by the way. It was quite... refreshing."

Andre didn’t know what to say. His heart was pounding, both from the exertion and the shock. Who—no, what—was this being before him? And what the fuck was Aldric planning to do with her?