In the dimly lit dungeons, the air reverberated with pained grunts emanating from the lips of the dark Fae prince. A whip mercilessly lashed across his back, breaking open his skin and drawing forth streams of blood. This was no ordinary whip; it emitted an eerie glow of heat, searing Aldric with every punishing strike. His once elegant jacket lay discarded, leaving him in a tattered and torn tunic that bore witness to the brutality inflicted upon him. The guards, acting upon a cruel directive from none other than the furious Fae Queen, engaged in the relentless torture of Aldric.
Contrary to Andre’s assurance to Islinda, it became evident that Aldric was not being treated as a prince in prison, but rather as a formidable and dangerous terrorist. Chained with his hands suspended above his head, Aldric stood stoically, flinching with each brutal impact of the glowing whip on his body. In this dire situation, it was undeniably Aldric in his body, as his alter ego Eli typically avoided such pain, withdrawing under distress and allowing Aldric to endure the harsh realities of the torment.
Aldric began to laugh hysterically, causing the guard torturing him to pause momentarily, confused. He couldn’t help but wonder if the torture wasn’t effective or if the cursed prince had finally lost his mind. However, Aldric was fully aware of the pain, though it paled in comparison to the pain and fury burning within him. He blamed himself for allowing sentiment to blind him and for unleashing Eli. He now had to deal with the chaos Eli had caused and the mess he had left behind. And to think his foolish alter ego had done it all for the sake of a human girl filled him with even greater rage. The idiot had let his emotions ruin his plans.
His foolish alter ego could never have executed the dark Fae. He understood the significance of such executions; the royal family, along with the courts and guests present at the palace, would have to witness it. Islinda would have been among the crowd, observing as he struck down his own kind. A dark Fae. His own kin. The fool had cared too much about what the human would think of him, so he had manipulated a distraction to avoid carrying out the execution.
Fortunately for Eli and unfortunately for Aldric, fate had presented an opportunity in the form of Queen Maeve, and he had caused enough chaos to shake the palace to its very foundations. Now he was shackled and being punished like an animal by these insignificant Fae, whom he could easily overpower with his own powers without breaking a sweat.
After the laughter subsided, Aldric inhaled heavily through his nostrils as the whipping resumed; it appeared that the Fae guard had regained his composure. He clenched his teeth, enduring the pain as his expression twisted into a cruel mask, his jaw clenched tightly. Once he escaped this prison, Islinda would have to die. It was true that he needed her for his plan to succeed, but she had become too much of a liability. If his own alter ego could betray him, who knew what he would do next for her sake? He would have to find another way to seize the throne from Valerie. Islinda had exhausted her usefulness.
Suddenly, the prison door swung open, and a voice commanded, "That’s enough!"
Aldric slumped in relief. Just because he was the villain didn’t mean he was immune to physical pain, and right now, his body, especially his back, hurt so much that he had to exert every ounce of willpower to refrain from writhing in pain. He had to maintain his appearance, especially since his nemesis of a brother had finally paid a visit.
Aldric’s hair was damp with sweat, the slightly elongated locks framing the sides of his face. He lifted his head just in time to see Valerie snatch the phoenix whip from the guard and discard it. He growled at the guard, "He’s still a prince; show him some respect."
The guard responded, his jaw twitching, "I apologize, my prince, but the order came from the Fae Queen Maeve, your mother." He emphasized the last part.
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Mated To The Cruel Prince