Mated To The Cruel Prince novel Chapter 904

Chapter 904: Walked Away With The Wraith King

The battle was more intense than any they had faced before. The enemies had come prepared, each blow met with more resistance than the last, and the two-hour skirmish had stretched into a grueling, bloody fight that showed no sign of abating.

The general’s plan had been to drive the monsters out of the city, pushing them back into the Tamry Forest where they could be sealed away once more. But the monsters refused to be herded, fighting with a tenacity that made it clear they would not go quietly.

Islinda served as both the shield and the blade. Her role on the offensive team had been to attack with ferocity, striking the enemy without pause, but now she was protecting the fae as well. There were no distinct roles anymore. Everyone was doing everything they could to survive in this relentless battle.

She was covered in blood from head to toe, her hair slicked back, soaked in it. Most of the blood belonged to the monsters she’d felled, but some was her own, the result of deep cuts and bruises on her body. As powerful as she was, Islinda was not invulnerable.

Of all the monsters, it was the goblins who tested her patience the most. The larger beasts she could face head-on, quickly finding the weak spots that would bring them down, but not the goblins. The annoying creatures were cunning, working in masses to surround her, chipping away at her defenses with quick, unpredictable moves.

One particularly nasty wound on her shoulder had come from a goblin that climbed her body and sank its teeth into her flesh while others attacked from all sides. She had managed to drive her spear into the skull of the creature, but the wound stubbornly refused to heal.

As if that was enough, the wound burned as if tainted, and Islinda cursed whatever venom the goblin had injected into her, likely designed to wear her down. But with Azula on her side, Islinda held her ground.

The succubus within her kept her going, drawing energy from their shared well of dark power. She refused to give in, even as the wound throbbed. If only Aldric were nearby; she would have been able to draw strength from him, renewing her energy.

Azula had tried feeding off the life forces of the monsters, but the energy was dark and bitter. Every soul had a taste, and as a succubus who could sample them, she could tell the difference immediately.

Pure souls were the sweetest, but Azula found herself longing for Aldric’s. While his was not the purest, it was vibrant and strong—made for her, like ambrosia.

But Aldric was nowhere in sight, lost somewhere in the chaos. Without him, she was left to scavenge what she could from the battlefield, draining bits of energy like a leech just to keep going.

But the more she fought, Islinda began to feel the toll of battle. Every monster she cut down seemed to be replaced by two, if not three more, and though her strikes were accurate, the wave of enemies felt unending. It made it seem as if she wasn’t making a dent, yet in truth, Islinda was the reason they hadn’t been overrun.

Now her arms were growing heavy, and the wound on her shoulder pulsed painfully. They couldn’t hold out forever.

Hence, the moment a call echoed from the crowd—"Fall back! Fall back!"—it was like a lifeline thrown in the storm. Islinda felt a wave of relief, though she knew the retreat wouldn’t be easy.

Islinda gritted her teeth as she doubled her efforts, striking down enemies with renewed determination. Inch by inch, she cleared a path, forcing back the swarm in an effort to reach the fallback line. It was her and Azula working in tandem all through the way.

Islinda was nearly back to the line when she felt a sudden, chilling change in the air. The atmosphere thickened, and a wave of oppressive tension swept over the battlefield. She paused, turning to see what had changed. The monsters had began to part, as if making way for something — or someone — of great importance.

And then she saw it.

A monstrous creature, seated atop a beast armored with ridged scales and bone spines, advanced toward her. The beast’s eyes glowed a sickly green, its roar shaking the air as if it was announcing the arrival of its king.

Islinda’s eyes widened as recognition hit her. It’s rider was a wraith, the ancient enemy of fae-kind. The sight of it sent a cold shiver through her. Wraiths were the only creatures capable of rendering a fae’s power useless. They had no vulnerability to fae magic, except when it came to dark faeries. And this wraith was the biggest she had ever seen, a dark king among monsters.

A voice, deep, guttural, and almost deathly, echoed inside her head, cutting through her thoughts. "You are one of us," it said, the words resonating like a hiss. "You should not be fighting for them."

Islinda frowned, realizing the wraith could sense Azula within her. It could see the darkness interwoven with her essence. To this creature, they were one and the same and connected by their bond to the dark.

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