Mated To The Cruel Prince-Chapter 888: Her New Mate

Aldric’s heart was a storm of panic and dread as he continued to search the ruined arena, his eyes wild and frantic. Every passing second without finding Islinda’s body felt like a knife twisting deeper into his chest.

He was a Fae, not a human, and his reputation was one of cold ruthlessness, but at this moment, even he was close to breaking. If he were anyone else, he might have collapsed in tears. But the only thing that kept him going was the mate bond. He could feel its faint pulse still tethering him to Islinda. She was alive. Somewhere.

The problem was: where? Where had she gone?

A disturbing thought crossed his mind, and his stomach twisted with fear. What if Azula had taken Islinda’s body to the demon realm from which she originated? After all, he had once made a bargain with her where he had promised to let go if she stayed quietly in the palace. Could this be it? Could Azula collected the favor he owed?

No. Aldric shook his head, refusing to believe it. Not after everything. Not after their agreement. He had finally conceded to be her mate, and had agreed to their bond. Why would she run now? Unless... unless this had been Azula’s plan all along, to make him vulnerable, to make him drop his defenses only to slip away with Islinda when he least expected it.

But Aldric was not one to give up easily, not without a fight. He gritted his teeth, pushing the doubts aside, and kept searching.

"Islinda!" he shouted, his voice hoarse and raw. "Islinda, where are you?!"

The sound of his own voice echoed through the broken arena, bouncing off the crumbling walls and shattered pillars. He wandered through the debris, scanning every fallen rock and pile of bodies. His frustration grew by the second, until something changed.

He felt a sudden pull. A tug deep inside him. Aldric froze, feeling the unmistakable call of the mate bond pulling him in a specific direction. His heart leaped with hope, and he began running toward the feeling, his steps urgent, his pulse racing.

The mate bond grew stronger with each step, guiding him, and soon, he saw her. Islinda was lying unconscious beneath a heavy slab of debris. His breath caught in his throat as he rushed to her side. She looked so fragile, so still. Blood caked her forehead, and Aldric could only guess what had happened. She must have been so drained from unleashing the tornado that when it dissipated, a piece of the arena had collapsed on top of her, knocking her out.

Without a word, Aldric bent down and placed his hands under the debris, grunting as he heaved the massive weight off her body. The slab was impossibly heavy, but he bore it all, pushing it aside with sheer force until it finally gave way, revealing her fully.

Hovering over her, Aldric’s breath came in ragged gasps. He knelt beside her, his hand trembling as he checked her pulse. His heart stopped.

There was no pulse.

"Fuck," he muttered, panic threatening to consume him. He had never felt this kind of helplessness before. But the mate bond was still there, faint but alive, telling him that she wasn’t truly gone. She was still in there, somewhere.

But how could he bring her back?

Then it hit him. Succubi feeds on sexual energy to replenish themselves. It was a desperate thought, but Aldric was beyond desperation now.

He grabbed her face, gently brushing away the dust that clung to her pale skin, and pressed his lips against hers. The first contact felt strange. It was cold, like kissing a corpse. She was unresponsive, her body limp, her lips unmoving. For a moment, he feared this wasn’t going to work.

But then he felt a flicker of warmth.

Aldric felt her body start to heat up, ever so slightly, as if life were slowly returning. Her breathing came back, faint at first, but growing stronger. Relief washed over him, but he didn’t stop. He kissed her more fiercely, his mouth moving against hers with increasing passion, urging her back to him.

Suddenly, Islinda’s eyes snapped open. But they weren’t her eyes—they were Azula’s, black as midnight. Before Aldric could react, her hand shot up, grabbing him in a tight, almost painful grip. Her power surged, and she began draining his life force, pulling his energy from him like a black hole swallowing light.

Aldric groaned as the energy flowed out of him and into her. It was an intense, overwhelming sensation, unlike anything he had felt before. But something was different.

Unlike Azula’s other victims, who would have withered and died under her touch, Aldric didn’t feel his essence slipping away for good. His body replenished itself just as quickly as she drained him. Aldric was a dark Fae, his essence compatible with hers. The exchange became a balance; Azula took from him, and he took from her.

The pull between them grew more intense. Aldric’s hands slid down her body, his fingers grazing her hips as he pressed himself against her, grinding with an almost primal need.

Azula moaned, her grip on him tightening as she buried her hands in his hair, pulling hard. The heat between them rose, their bodies moving together in a desperate, raw rhythm.

Neither of them cared that they were surrounded by the dead, on a battlefield strewn with the carnage of war. All that mattered was the exchange of power, the deep, intimate connection binding them in this moment.

Aldric growled low in his throat, grinding into her with renewed urgency as he fed her more of his energy. Azula’s moans grew louder, her body trembling beneath him as the intensity of the bond overwhelmed her. Her back arched, her breath hitching as the surge of power reached its peak.

With one final, breathless cry, Azula collapsed onto the ground, her body spent but satisfied. She reached up, cupping Aldric’s face in her hands, her blackened eyes softening with a newfound affection.

"Perhaps," she whispered, her voice a blend of Azula and Islinda, "this isn’t so bad after all."

Aldric smiled, his heart still racing. He leaned down, pressing one final kiss to her lips. "Not bad at all," he whispered back.