The meeting room was buzzing that early morning, conversations carrying about. The general was absent, a fact that hadn’t gone unnoticed by the figures gathered there. Prince Aldric stood among them, his arms folded tightly across his chest as he scanned the room, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the witches present. Tension simmered beneath the surface, and Aldric’s distaste for the general and his company of witches was palpable.
Aldric had never liked the general. Not now, not in the past. The fae general, while respected and revered by many, had always regarded Aldric with thinly veiled contempt. It was no secret to Aldric that if the general had the means, he would have disposed of him long ago.
But Aldric had always been untouchable. In the past, the general could do nothing against him. With his strength, his influence, no one could touch him. Now, however, things were different. Aldric had something to protect. Islinda.
Though Azula was a force to be reckoned with and more than capable of defending Islinda, Aldric couldn’t shake the feeling of dread. His enemies might not be able to kill her, but they could hurt her in ways that made death seem merciful. It was this thought that haunted him, causing him to keep Islinda close, especially now as they found themselves surrounded by witches.
Aldric never trusted witches. While Faeries were tricksters by nature, witches were manipulative and ruthless, their allegiance constantly shifting based on who could provide them with the most power or wealth. He had seen it time and time again, their betrayal sharp and sudden like a dagger in the dark. And here they were, in alliance with the general. The very people Aldric couldn’t trust were now supposed to be their allies, fighting against the monsters ravaging Astaria.
As Aldric surveyed the room, his gaze locked on the elder witch at the head of the table. She was powerful, the leader of her coven, and he had no doubt that her mental defenses were as formidable as her reputation suggested. He tried to penetrate her thoughts, to glean any information that might prove useful, but he was met with a solid block. Impressive, but unsurprising.
He shifted his attention to her right-hand woman, a witch who exuded the same confidence and strength. Once again, he attempted to probe her mind, and again, he was met with resistance. These witches were well-guarded. However, Aldric was not easily deterred.
His eyes moved across the room until they landed on the younger witch, an auburn hair who seemed less experienced. She looked comfortable, even laughing with the soldiers who sat near her, her guard down.
Perfect.
Aldric approached her, a charming smile playing on his lips. "Hello," he greeted smoothly.
The soldiers standing beside her immediately recognized him and scattered, their unease apparent. The dark fae prince was not someone anyone wanted to be caught alone with. Yet the young witch, Ava, seemed unperturbed by his presence, though she looked a bit surprised that he had chosen to speak with her.
"Hello?" she replied hesitantly, her eyes studying him with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. "You’re Prince Aldric, right? The dark fae prince. Your reputation precedes you."
Aldric chuckled, a sound that was disarming and pleasant. "I suppose it does. Nice to meet you, miss...?"
For a brief moment, Aldric thought she might refuse his outstretched hand. Most did. They feared him, avoided him like a curse. But Ava was different. Bold, perhaps foolishly so. She took his hand in hers, her grip firm.
"Ava," she answered.
Aldric’s smile widened as he felt the faint connection he needed. Bingo. Young and daring—a dangerous combination. Ava was powerful, he could sense it, but her confidence in her own abilities made her vulnerable. She didn’t have the age or experience to defend against someone like him.
Carefully, Aldric began to probe her mind. He encountered resistance, but instead of forcing his way through, he lingered at the surface, waiting for the right moment to slip in undetected. His shadows played at the edges of her consciousness, softening her defenses without her even realizing it.
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