Mated To The Cruel Prince-Chapter 798: It Is Finished

Andre’s brow furrowed deeper. "You’re planning to compel me not to talk, aren’t you?" he asked, though the suspicion in his voice betrayed his uncertainty.

But Azula only laughed harder, shaking her head. "I’m not going to do that either."

Her words sent a chill down his spine, and his frown deepened as he regarded her warily. She began to move closer to him, her body brushing against his in a way that sent his nerves alight. He tried to maintain his composure, to ignore the sudden rush of heat that flooded through him at her proximity.

Azula’s hand moved deliberately, running over his chest with a feathery touch that made his skin tingle. Her lips curled into a playful pout as she looked up at him through her lashes. "I know you like Islinda," she murmured, her voice a soft, teasing purr. "And because of that, you wouldn’t bring harm to her."

Andre opened his mouth to protest, but whatever words he was about to say were cut off as her hand traveled lower, brushing against his groin. His breath hitched, and he instinctively clenched his fists, willing his body not to react to her touch. But despite his best efforts, he could feel himself responding, his body betraying him.

Azula’s eyes gleamed with mischief as she traced the outline of his erection through his pants, her touch light but deliberate. "Liar, liar, pants on fire," she teased, her voice a sing-song whisper that sent a shiver down his spine.

Andre’s jaw clenched, his mind racing for a way out of this situation. He knew she was toying with him, but damn it, she was close to the truth.

He had always known he was different from the others. From the royal family. From his brothers. The fact that Islinda was a dark Fae didn’t disgust him as much as it should have—at least, not in the way he had claimed. And the more Azula pushed, the more he realized that she was peeling away his defenses, exposing the truth he’d tried so hard to deny.

Desperate to regain control, Andre grabbed Azula’s hand, yanking it away from him. "What’s your end game, Azula?" he demanded, his voice low and strained.

Azula smirked, clearly enjoying his discomfort. She leaned in closer, her breath warm against his ear as she whispered, "At first, all I wanted was to return to my realm. But not anymore."

Andre’s heart pounded in his chest. "What realm? You are not making any sense to me.".

But Azula went on to say amidst his confusion with a dark chuckle. "Islinda provoked me, and now, I’m willing to play the game."

"What game?" Andre asked, his voice tense.

Azula pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes, her smirk widening into something more sinister. "What do you think about marrying Islinda?"

Andre froze, his mind blanking for a split second. What in the Fae? Marry Islinda? The idea was absurd, and yet, as he stared into Azula’s eyes, he could see that she was dead serious.

"You have to be kidding me," Andre muttered, wiping his palm down his face in frustration. He glared at Azula, his darkened eyes full of contempt. "You’re pitting me against Aldric."

"Are you scared of Aldric too, my prince?" she teased, her voice dripping with sarcasm. freewebnøvel.coɱ

Andre’s ego bristled at her words, and he felt a growl rising in his throat. His eyes flashed with anger, his pride stung by the insinuation.

"Even without Aldric standing in the way, Islinda would never marry me," he spat back, his voice sharp with defiance. "She’s in love with him, and I won’t force her into a marriage she doesn’t want."

Azula’s smirk didn’t falter. She seemed almost amused by his resolve. "You wouldn’t have to force her," she said, her tone casual, as if they were discussing something mundane.

Andre’s frown deepened. "What do you mean by that?"

Azula’s eyes gleamed with mischief as she leaned in closer. "Islinda owes you a favor, does she not? You could call that in."

But Andre’s expression hardened even further. "That won’t happen," he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Azula raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious. "And why not?"

Andre growled, his frustration boiling over. "I won’t abuse my power like that," he snapped, his voice filled with conviction. "The favor is not a tool for manipulation. I’m not like you."

Azula laughed again, her mirth genuine this time. "Oh, Andre," she said with a smirk, "such righteousness. But don’t worry—you won’t have to do anything. I’ll take care of it for you."

Before Andre could process what she meant by that, his vision blurred, and he felt his mind slipping away from him. His eyes went slack, his thoughts clouded as if a heavy fog had rolled in. He fought against the sensation, but it was no use—Azula’s power was too strong.

In a calm, commanding voice, Azula said, "You will call in that favor, Andre. You will demand that Islinda marry you."

Andre’s voice responded automatically, as if he were a puppet on strings. "I will call in that favor. I will demand that Islinda marry me."

A satisfied smile crossed Azula’s face. The truth was, she had no real interest in Andre or Islinda’s happiness. All she wanted was to sow chaos in Astaria, and what better way to do that than to drive a wedge between Aldric and the woman he loved?

If Andre forced Islinda into marriage, it would ignite a firestorm, one that would burn through the courts and leave nothing but ashes in its wake. Only then would she get her long awaited revenge.

Azula’s hand trailed across Andre’s face, her touch light. She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "You just have to set the game in motion, my prince."

And then, without warning, Azula plunged the dagger back into her chest, intentionally re-inflicting the wound. The pain radiated through her body, sharp and searing, but she didn’t flinch. The pain was a small price to pay for the chaos she was about to unleash.

Andre’s eyes snapped back to focus, the fog lifting from his mind. He blinked, disoriented, his hand instinctively reaching out as Azula staggered back from the impact of the dagger.

"What the—" he began, but the words died in his throat as he took in the sight of her, blood once again staining her clothes.

Azula’s smile was twisted as she looked at him, her eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction. "Don’t worry about me," she said, her voice a breathy whisper. "Just remember what you need to do."

Before Andre could respond, Azula’s eyes fluttered shut, and she collapsed into his arms.

It was finished.