Mated To The Cruel Prince novel Chapter 905

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Chapter 905: Freedom

Aldric had a terrible dream. In that dream, his one and infuriating mate left with the enemy forces. The dream felt so real that, even while unconscious, the heartache carried over, and he groaned in pain, the sound echoing through the space.

"I don’t know if this is a good idea; his mind is incredibly strong. I’ve never encountered one like his," the witch who hovered over Aldric’s unconscious body shouted, her hand trembling from the strain of trying to keep Aldric under control.

Mother Theresa, leader of the current witches’ coven, turned to the general standing inside the tent, a deep frown on her face.

When Aldric had first awakened after being struck by the enemy’s attack, the first thing he asked about was his mate. When he received no answer, his expression darkened, and a murderous rage filled his eyes. It was clear he intended to go after her.

From the wild look in his eyes, it was evident that the dark Fae prince had lost his composure. It had taken twenty skilled Fae soldiers and five witches to subdue him and put him back to sleep.

Even now, Aldric resisted the witch’s power. He was desperate to break free and find his mate. They had underestimated the strength of the mate bond, and now they were witnessing firsthand its undeniable pull. Both parties were drawn to each other, nearly to the point of madness.

"Perhaps the other dark Fae could calm him down," the witch suggested, her exhaustion becoming more apparent with each passing second.

As if to punctuate her point, a loud, distressed whinny came from outside. Maxi had tried to intervene, but the general had sent soldiers after her, and now she fought against them in her horse form.

The general’s face twisted in a scowl, frustration seeping through him. Not only had he lost one of his greatest assets, Islinda—what in the wildest Fae had she even been thinking, pulling that stunt?—now Aldric wasn’t even stable. He couldn’t afford to lose two assets in one day.

They needed Aldric more than ever now that his powerful mate was no longer with them—if she wasn’t dead already. The barbaric creatures of the Tamry Forest wouldn’t have spared her life. Islinda was most likely dead, and perhaps Aldric could feel it in his heart, which explained his turmoil.

The general didn’t care about Aldric’s well-being; he only wanted Aldric’s strength for their battles, to win the war for Astaria. Aldric could rot in hell afterward, for all he cared.

"Take away his memories," the general ordered.

"What?" Mother Theresa turned to the general, a frown etched on her face.

"Take away the memory of his mate."

"Are you kidding me right now? Do you even realize what you’re asking me to do? A mate bond? A sacred bond, general. It isn’t something to be trifled with."

The general faced her, his tall, graceful Fae frame towering over her as he spoke with emphasis. "And I’m sure you’ve done worse. Right now, I’m asking you to do this for the fate of the Fae realm. I need a soldier, and that—" he pointed toward Aldric, "is a mess. I need him in fighting condition."

"The gods will not let this slide."

"The gods should have never let Astaria fall into chaos in the first place. This is on them!" the general roared with conviction.

For a moment, it seemed as if Mother Theresa wouldn’t comply, but then she sighed.

"Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you," she huffed before sitting beside the younger witch. The process would be grueling, but she was stronger than the other witch and would get it done.