"I wasn’t able to figure out her reasons back then, but now I know," the Fae explained to him. "Queen Maeve couldn’t accept that your mother was King Oberon’s mate and his favorite. She found a way to remove her—without getting her hands dirty. What better way than to hand her over to the Dark Fae, who had a vendetta against your father for hunting down their kind?"
He went on to say, "We handled the dirty work, ensuring your mother’s travel details fell into the wrong hands. I had a change of heart centuries later. I wanted to reveal the truth, but Queen Maeve discovered my intentions. She framed me, turned my own people against me. The next thing I knew, I was hunted as a criminal. I survived, but barely. I became the most dangerous fugitive in the kingdom, and King Oberon himself was hunting me. I told him the truth, but he attacked me instead. He didn’t expose it. Instead, he froze and locked me in the Cold Room, where I stayed until I escaped."
The Fae paused, eyes darting between Islinda and Aldric, clearly afraid of Aldric’s reaction. But Aldric stood frozen, staring blankly ahead as if he hadn’t even heard the Fae’s words. His expression was unreadable, distant. It was like a wall had slammed down inside him, cutting him off from reality. A loud ringing filled his ears, drowning out everything else.
It wasn’t until Islinda placed a hand on his arm, her touch soft and grounding, that Aldric seemed to snap back into the present. He looked down at her, his eyes locking with hers. There was no need for words, she understood what he was feeling. The betrayal, the anger, the agony of learning that everything he believed about his mother’s death had been a lie.
But Aldric didn’t want to be understood. He didn’t want pity or comfort. The rage boiling inside him needed release. They would be the ones to be pitied.
Islinda had always wondered what Aldric would look like if he truly lost control. She had imagined his face twisted in fury, dark and terrible, looking like the monster so many believed him to be. But this—this was worse. His face was blank, his emotions shut down completely, as if he had flipped a switch and turned off his humanity. She couldn’t even feel him through the mate bond. And that terrified her more than any outburst of anger ever could.
Without a word, Aldric turned to leave. Islinda’s heart dropped, and she grabbed his arm, her eyes wide with panic. "Aldric... don’t," she whispered, her voice trembling. She knew where he was going. She knew who he was going to see, and what would happen if he reached her. Queen Maeve would bear the full force of his wrath.
"Please don’t," she begged, holding onto him as if her grip alone could keep him from leaving. She could feel the anger radiating off him, now buzzing through the mate bond with such intensity it was deafening. If she let Aldric through that door, he was going to destroy the normalcy they were getting used to. The future they had started to build.
"Don’t go please," she whispered again, tears sliding down her cheeks.
Aldric reached up and gently brushed her tears away, a pained expression crossing his face. Through gritted teeth, he said, "Don’t shed tears. Not for them. They don’t deserve it."
But the tears only came faster now because Islinda knew, deep down, that nothing she said would change his mind. He was determined.
Aldric leaned in, resting his forehead against hers. "Do you trust me?" he asked, his voice low and strained.
Islinda shook her head, refusing to answer. "No, no, no..." she muttered, her hands trembling as they gripped his arm. "Please don’t do this..."
"Shhh," Aldric whispered, lifting her chin so she would look into his eyes. Her tears glistened like crystals, and he gently wiped them away. "Trust me," he repeated, his voice soft but firm.
And then, without another word, he was gone. A blur of motion, and he had vanished, taking the intruder Fae with him.
"Aldric!" Islinda screamed after him, but there was no answer, no trace of him. He was already too far.
Panic surged through her, and she bolted for the door, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew exactly where he was headed, and she had to stop him before it was too late.
"My lady!" A guard rushed over when he saw her distressed state, concern etched across his face. "Are you alright?"
Islinda grabbed him by the arm, her voice urgent. "Find the King, tell him Aldric knows the truth. Tell him to save his wife."
The guard blinked in confusion, clearly puzzled by her words. "I—I don’t understand. Save who—?"
"Just go!" Islinda barked, her voice sharp with desperation. The guard flinched, startled by her intensity.
She had to force herself to calm down, taking a deep breath before speaking again. "Tell Oberon. He’ll understand."
The guard didn’t hesitate this time. He quickly turned and sprinted off to find the King.
With no time to waste, Islinda ran toward Queen Maeve’s quarters. She hated the Summer Queen for everything she had done, for all the pain she had caused. But killing her wouldn’t fix anything. She couldn’t let that happen, not when he was so close to making his dreams come true.
As she sprinted through the palace corridors, Islinda prayed she wasn’t too late.
Every second felt like a ticking time bomb, each step bringing her closer to what she feared would be Aldric’s irreversible mistake.
Just as she reached Queen Maeve’s hallway, a voice called out her name, cutting through the silence.
"Islinda!"
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Mated To The Cruel Prince