The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife. Aldric’s sudden interruption had thrown the wedding into chaos, and Prince Andre was not about to let his brother get the upper hand.
When no guard made a move to seize Aldric, Andre’s voice rang out again, sharper, more authoritative, as he commanded, "I said, seize him!"
But Aldric was unfazed. Instead, he smirked, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he welcod the challenge. "Oh well," he drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "let them co."
It was a wonder Aldric could exude such confidence, especially after his ti locked away in the Quiet Room—a place known for draining the will and strength from even the mightiest of Fae. But there was no sign of weakness in Aldric now.
If anything, he seed more powerful, especially now his dark powers has been let out to play. Valerie, his unusual ally, was equally prepared for battle. Flas danced along his arms, crackling ominously as he signaled his readiness to disrupt the wedding by force.
Sensing the impending violence, many of the guests began to scatter, seeking cover from the inevitable clash. The scars of the last attack in the arena were still fresh in their minds, and none wished to be caught in another deadly confrontation. The air was charged with fear and anticipation, the delicate balance of power teetering on the edge of a knife.
But just as the guards took a tentative step forward, King Oberon’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. "Enough!" he commanded, his voice booming with the authority of centuries.
His eyes flashed with an almost incandescent fury as he glared at his sons, daring them to continue their squabble in his presence. The garden fell into a tense silence as his words settled over them.
"Where is your respect?" King Oberon’s voice was low, but it carried the rage of a thousand battles won, a great empire ruled.
Aldric turned to face his father, unapologetic, his jaw clenched in defiance. "I lost that respect, when you locked in that cursed Quiet Room just to facilitate this damned wedding in secret."
King Oberon’s expression flickered with sha, but he held his ground. "And would you have let Andre marry Islinda peacefully if I hadn’t?"
Aldric’s response was a nacing laugh, dark and full of promise. "Over my dead body."
King Oberon’s eyes narrowed, the challenge in his gaze unmistakable. "Even when Lady Islinda has given her consent?"
Aldric’s expression faltered, his eyes widening in shock as he turned to Islinda, searching her face for answers. "Why?" he asked, his voice softer now, laced with confusion and pain. "Why would you agree to that?"
Islinda opened her mouth to respond, but no words ca out. What could she say? The truth? That she had struck a deal with Andre to save herself, to hide her true nature? To reveal that would be to reveal everything, and she couldn’t bear to let the whole Faeries know that. Dark Faeries were not welcod in Astaria.
Aldric seed to catch onto her hesitation, his face hardening as he turned back to the king. "I don’t care what she said," he growled. "Islinda isn’t marrying Andre."
King Oberon’s patience was wearing thin. His eyes glowed with power, an eerie blue light as he stepped forward. "Both parties have given consent," he said, his voice vibrating with barely restrained anger. "Unless you have a legitimate reason why they cannot marry, I will not tolerate your antics any longer."
For a mont, Aldric was silent, his mind racing as he tried to find a way out of the corner he was trapped in. The crowd began to murmur again, sensing that Aldric might be defeated, that his sudden return and drama had been for nothing. But Aldric’s eyes sharpened, a steely resolve taking hold as he lifted his chin and spoke with deadly certainty.
"Islinda is my mate."
The words fell into the clearing like a stone into a still pond, sending ripples of shock through the crowd. For a heartbeat, everything was still, as if the world itself was trying to comprehend the enormity of what Aldric had just revealed. Then, chaos erupted. So of the Fae roared in disapproval, others simply stared in stunned silence, unable to process the revelation.
Valerie was the first to turn on Aldric, snarling in disbelief, his earlier camaraderie forgotten. "That is not possible. Everyone knows dark Faeries don’t have mates!"
Aldric’s expression was one of cold defiance. "Or perhaps it’s your arrogance and disdain towards my kind that led you to believe that only the Light Faeries are capable of love. The Night Court might have committed sins, but even monsters deserve the right to be loved. Perhaps the gods knew that."
His words struck deep, a harsh reminder that the Fae were not as different as they liked to believe. But Valerie was not so easily swayed.
"You’re making this up!" he spat, looking to the others for support. Yet, there was a shift in the air. King Oberon, once so certain, now appeared deep in thought. After all, he had been the one to wipe out the dark Faeries and it was possible that he had overlooked sothing so crucial. Or kept it hidden? Eveyone has their suspicions now.
Aldric’s eyes glead with dangerous intent. "Or perhaps, I can show you."
Before anyone could react, Aldric moved with the speed and precision of a predator. He was beside Islinda in an instant, and with a single, effortless motion, he tossed Andre aside as though he weighed nothing. The crowd gasped, and Andre hit the ground with a dull thud, montarily stunned by the force.
Islinda’s eyes widened in confusion and fear as Aldric grabbed her face, tilting her head to the side. For a split second, their eyes t, and she saw sothing in his gaze—a determination, a desperation—that made her heart skip a beat. Before she could utter a word, Aldric’s fangs erged, sharp and gleaming, and he sank them into her neck.
Reviews
All reviews (0)