Mated To The Cruel Prince novel Chapter 863

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Chapter 863: Moth To A Flame

Gabbi’s heart raced as she stared at Azreal’s hand, the warmth of his fingers beckoning her. There was a childlike fascination in his eyes, a glimmer of excitement that made her own lips tug into a smile. It was almost as if he had just discovered something thrilling, something that filled him with a sense of adventure and wonder. That emotion was contagious, and she felt a flutter deep in her chest.

Her hand moved without hesitation, slipping into his. His hand was warm, secure, and when they clasped together, it was as if the world around them fell away. A sense of belonging washed over her—like they were two puzzle pieces that fit together perfectly.

Azreal tugged her along, and with a burst of laughter, they both took off running down the hallway. It was childish, reckless, and absolutely exhilarating. Their footsteps echoed through the long corridors, a sharp contrast to the usual solemnity that filled the palace.

All around them, the chorus of "Welcome, Your Majesty" rang in the air, but they were too caught up in their own little world to respond. Neither of them paid attention to the Ravenkind they passed—after all, they couldn’t acknowledge every single person in the palace, could they?

The grandeur of the palace surrounded them. Opulent chandeliers, Ornate rugs, and a whole lot. It was almost the same as any other palace she had seen, full of luxury and history.

But there was something distinct about Azreal’s home. They passed the walls adorned with statues instead of oil paintings of past kings and Queens.

The statues were imposing yet elegant, towering over them with a sense of strength and history. They stood in various poses, most of them regal and dignified, their eyes staring forward with an unspoken power.

Azreal stopped in front of a set of grand doors, and with a flourish, he opened them. The Heritage Room.

It felt like stepping into a temple.

Inside, the statues were far more lifelike than anything she had seen before. They were carved from stone, but the craftsmanship was so exquisite that they seemed almost alive. Gabbi had to fight the urge to bow her head in reverence. There was something sacred about the room, something that made her feel as though she was intruding on a holy place.

"From the stone you lived, and to the rock you shall belong," Gabbi muttered under her breath, a thought running through her head as she gazed at the statues.

Azreal chuckled softly at her words. "I like that."

Gabbi blushed yet was unable to take her eyes off one in particular. There was something almost eerie about the way the statues were arranged, like the figures had been frozen in time at the very moment they took their last breath.

But it wasn’t just their stillness that made her feel awed; it was the detail, the artistry. The statues were so finely crafted that they appeared to be breathing, as though any moment now, they might spring to life.

Her gaze fell on a particular statue, a winged woman mid-flight, her wings outstretched as she attacked another Ravenkind, a man this time. Her heart skipped a beat. There was something familiar about the statue. As if she has seen them somewhere.

"Wait, this—" Gabbi began, her voice faltering as she stepped closer, her fingers tightening around Azreal’s hand.

"That’s my parents," Azreal replied with a small twinkle in his eyes.

Gabbi’s breath caught in her throat. She turned to look at him, confusion written across her face. "What?"

"Yes." Azreal grinned. "That’s my mother and father." He motioned to the other statues of his parents across the room. "My father was a king, and my mother was from the Blackfeather tribe."

Gabbi stared at the statues in disbelief, her eyes wide.

"What?" She looked back at the scene. The female figure, the winged woman, was attacking the male, her outstretched wings slicing through the air as she bore down on him with fierce determination. It almost seemed violent. But now that she knew who they were, the scene made more sense.

Azreal chuckled, a sound filled with amusement. "Yes, I know. You’re probably wondering how my parents met." He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "It’s quite a story."

Gabbi raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "How?"

"Well, you see," Azreal began, "my mother and father were from different tribes."

"Tribes?" Gabbi blinked. "Wait... Ravenkind don’t all look the same. They’re from different tribes?"

Azreal nodded. "Yes. We, Ravenkind, don’t all look the same, even though we are the same species. Some of us prefer our birdlike forms, others our human forms. It’s a cultural thing depending on which tribe you belong to." He gestured to the nearby statues of his ancestors, his eyes shining as he spoke. "There are the Talon tribe, the Deathclaw tribe, Shadowing Clan, Featherveil Tribe, Blackfeather Clan, Stormraven Tribe, Nightwing Clan, Grimwing Tribe... the list goes on."

Gabbi took all of this in, trying to wrap her mind around the rich history of the Ravenkind people. "So what happened?"

Azreal sighed, as though recounting an old tale that had been told many times before. "Ravendale wasn’t always united. After the betrayal of Drusilla, the tribes were divided. My ancestors fought hard to conquer and unite the tribes. Some of them used violence to do so, while others were more diplomatic. By the time it came to my father, we were strong enough that some tribes willingly joined. But my mother’s tribe, the Blackfeather tribe, resisted."

He looked over at the statue of his mother, the fierce warrior in mid-flight. "My mother was the princess of the Blackfeather tribe. She was also a warrior. She and my father met in battle—"

Gabbi’s eyes widened in shock. "They met in battle?"

"Yes. My father and her tribe were fighting over control. It was only in the middle of the fight that they realized they were mates." Azreal laughed softly, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. "Some sort of cosmic joke from the gods, I suppose."