Mated To The Cruel Prince-Chapter 857: Welcome Home, My King

Azreal projected confidence as he strode through the corridors toward his room, his wings tucked tightly behind him. However, beneath that calmness, a knot of anxiety coiled tightly in his stomach. He was spending the night with Gabbi. The thought thrilled him, sending a strange mix of excitement and dread through his veins.

The anticipation of lying beside her quickened his pulse even though he knew there would be no actual mating tonight. No matter how much his instincts screamed at him to claim her, mark her as his, it was not happening. The only good thing he would end up with was a blue ball.

Mating with Gabbi would complicate everything. His people still didn’t accept her, and they were looking for any excuse to end her. If they by chance felt threatened, or felt she might betray them, they wouldn’t hesitate to act. Mating with her now would bind him to her irrevocably, leaving him vulnerable if anything went wrong.

If Gabbi betrayed them, if the unthinkable happened and his people had to kill her, it would be agonizing for Azrael. But without the mate bond fully solidified, there was at least a small part of him that could bear the pain without succumbing to madness. Mating and marking her would seal their fate, with no possibility of turning back. It was a line that, once crossed, could never be undone.

But still, he wanted her.

Although his people’s judgment seemed harsh, even cruel, Azreal understood where it came from. They had been hurt before. Unlike the Fae, who had slowly been accepted by humans, the Valravn were branded as monsters. Their bird-like features made them outcasts among humans, creatures to be feared and loathed.

Azreal thought back to the stories passed down through generations. Long ago, they had lived in relative peace among humans, though they kept to themselves, intentionally isolating themselves from the larger world.

Their seclusion made them mysterious, and with mystery came human curiosity — a curiosity that often led to cruelty.

Drusilla had been the first human to betray them. fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com

The story of the young human was etched into the collective memory of his people, a cautionary tale passed down from generation to generation to remind the younger ones why they never mingled with the humans.

Drusilla had been a human woman, a beautiful maiden who stumbled into their village while fleeing from her killers. Of course, in the end, that had been a set-up for Drusilla had only been on a mission.

Injured and helpless, King Galadriel as of then, had taken her in, nursing her back to health. He had fallen deeply in love with her.

There were whispers that she was his mate, though no one wanted to believe that such a bond could have existed between a human and a Valravn. Not after she had betrayed them in such a way and insulted the mate bond.

But Drusilla had deceived them all.

Despite warnings from his advisors and people, King Galadriel had trusted her implicitly, blinded by her beauty and charm. Even when her actions raised suspicions, he had ignored them, taking her side until it was too late.

Drusilla’s betrayal was swift and brutal. She had passed on their secrets to the humans, who regarded the Ravenkind as abominations, creatures that should not exist. She led the human warriors into their secluded village.

With her help, they besieged the village in the dead of night. It was a massacre. The attack was swift and brutal, a massacre that left their people decimated. No one was spared — not even the children, not even the pregnant women. Nor the elderly.

The survivors had fled to the mountains, where they built a new kingdom from the ashes of the old, led by Azreal’s ancestors, making him the king.

The mountain which became their refuge, also became their prison. For centuries, they had lived in isolation, wary of the outside world, fearful of history repeating itself. With the stories, Azreal’s ancestors had fought to keep the memory of that betrayal alive, to ensure that they never let their guard down again.

Even now, despite his desire to bridge the gap between his people and the outside world, the trauma of the past lingered. The older Valravn clung to their sanctuary, unwilling to risk venturing beyond the safety of the mountain.

The younger generation, however, longed for freedom. They wanted to experience life beyond the confines of their hidden kingdom, to interact with humans, to be more than just the shadowy figures of old legends.

Hence it wasn’t uncommon for a rebellious Valravn youth to sneak down into human society, risking exposure, only to be dragged back by their elders, scolded for their recklessness.

Azreal himself longed for more. Yes, humans could be cruel, but the world had changed. It wasn’t as barbaric as it once was. The Valravn didn’t need to live in fear forever. Yet, he couldn’t shake the trauma woven into his people’s very identity. They were scarred by the past, and nothing he said or did could change that overnight.

But then, the gods had given him Gabbi. She was the key. If his own mate could look beyond the monster he appeared to be, perhaps there was hope. Perhaps the day would come when his people could escape this mountain, this prison, and live freely among the humans once more.

He reached the door to his chambers and stopped, taking a deep breath to steady himself. The guards stationed outside gave him strange looks, but said nothing. They, too, were aware of the tension swirling around this night.

Azreal pushed the door open, bracing himself for what he would find inside.

He had imagined many ways this night could unfold. One of them involved Gabbi sitting on the edge of the bed, glaring at him with fire in her eyes, ready to confront him. Another version had her silently seething, refusing to acknowledge his presence.

But the Gabbi who greeted him now was neither angry nor defiant. Instead, she sat calmly, a soft, disarming smile on her lips that took him completely off guard.

"You’re finally home, my king."