Mated To The Cruel Prince-Chapter 863: Moth To A Flame

Gabbi’s heart raced as she stared at Azreal’s hand, the warmth of his fingers beckoning her. There was a childlike fascination in his eyes, a glimmer of excitement that made her own lips tug into a smile. It was almost as if he had just discovered something thrilling, something that filled him with a sense of adventure and wonder. That emotion was contagious, and she felt a flutter deep in her chest.

Her hand moved without hesitation, slipping into his. His hand was warm, secure, and when they clasped together, it was as if the world around them fell away. A sense of belonging washed over her—like they were two puzzle pieces that fit together perfectly.

Azreal tugged her along, and with a burst of laughter, they both took off running down the hallway. It was childish, reckless, and absolutely exhilarating. Their footsteps echoed through the long corridors, a sharp contrast to the usual solemnity that filled the palace.

All around them, the chorus of "Welcome, Your Majesty" rang in the air, but they were too caught up in their own little world to respond. Neither of them paid attention to the Ravenkind they passed—after all, they couldn’t acknowledge every single person in the palace, could they?

The grandeur of the palace surrounded them. Opulent chandeliers, Ornate rugs, and a whole lot. It was almost the same as any other palace she had seen, full of luxury and history.

But there was something distinct about Azreal’s home. They passed the walls adorned with statues instead of oil paintings of past kings and Queens.

The statues were imposing yet elegant, towering over them with a sense of strength and history. They stood in various poses, most of them regal and dignified, their eyes staring forward with an unspoken power.

Azreal stopped in front of a set of grand doors, and with a flourish, he opened them. The Heritage Room.

It felt like stepping into a temple.

Inside, the statues were far more lifelike than anything she had seen before. They were carved from stone, but the craftsmanship was so exquisite that they seemed almost alive. Gabbi had to fight the urge to bow her head in reverence. There was something sacred about the room, something that made her feel as though she was intruding on a holy place.

"From the stone you lived, and to the rock you shall belong," Gabbi muttered under her breath, a thought running through her head as she gazed at the statues.

Azreal chuckled softly at her words. "I like that."

Gabbi blushed yet was unable to take her eyes off one in particular. There was something almost eerie about the way the statues were arranged, like the figures had been frozen in time at the very moment they took their last breath.

But it wasn’t just their stillness that made her feel awed; it was the detail, the artistry. The statues were so finely crafted that they appeared to be breathing, as though any moment now, they might spring to life.

Her gaze fell on a particular statue, a winged woman mid-flight, her wings outstretched as she attacked another Ravenkind, a man this time. Her heart skipped a beat. There was something familiar about the statue. As if she has seen them somewhere.

"Wait, this—" Gabbi began, her voice faltering as she stepped closer, her fingers tightening around Azreal’s hand.

"That’s my parents," Azreal replied with a small twinkle in his eyes.

Gabbi’s breath caught in her throat. She turned to look at him, confusion written across her face. "What?"

"Yes." Azreal grinned. "That’s my mother and father." He motioned to the other statues of his parents across the room. "My father was a king, and my mother was from the Blackfeather tribe."

Gabbi stared at the statues in disbelief, her eyes wide.

"What?" She looked back at the scene. The female figure, the winged woman, was attacking the male, her outstretched wings slicing through the air as she bore down on him with fierce determination. It almost seemed violent. But now that she knew who they were, the scene made more sense.

Azreal chuckled, a sound filled with amusement. "Yes, I know. You’re probably wondering how my parents met." He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "It’s quite a story."

Gabbi raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "How?"

"Well, you see," Azreal began, "my mother and father were from different tribes."

"Tribes?" Gabbi blinked. "Wait... Ravenkind don’t all look the same. They’re from different tribes?"

Azreal nodded. "Yes. We, Ravenkind, don’t all look the same, even though we are the same species. Some of us prefer our birdlike forms, others our human forms. It’s a cultural thing depending on which tribe you belong to." He gestured to the nearby statues of his ancestors, his eyes shining as he spoke. "There are the Talon tribe, the Deathclaw tribe, Shadowing Clan, Featherveil Tribe, Blackfeather Clan, Stormraven Tribe, Nightwing Clan, Grimwing Tribe... the list goes on."

Gabbi took all of this in, trying to wrap her mind around the rich history of the Ravenkind people. "So what happened?"

Azreal sighed, as though recounting an old tale that had been told many times before. "Ravendale wasn’t always united. After the betrayal of Drusilla, the tribes were divided. My ancestors fought hard to conquer and unite the tribes. Some of them used violence to do so, while others were more diplomatic. By the time it came to my father, we were strong enough that some tribes willingly joined. But my mother’s tribe, the Blackfeather tribe, resisted."

He looked over at the statue of his mother, the fierce warrior in mid-flight. "My mother was the princess of the Blackfeather tribe. She was also a warrior. She and my father met in battle—"

Gabbi’s eyes widened in shock. "They met in battle?"

"Yes. My father and her tribe were fighting over control. It was only in the middle of the fight that they realized they were mates." Azreal laughed softly, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. "Some sort of cosmic joke from the gods, I suppose."

Gabbi was speechless. "Wait... your mother was attacking your father, and then they realized they were mates?"

Azreal nodded, his expression full of fondness. "Yep. My father demanded the scene be commemorated, so his children and their children would always remember how they met."

Gabbi chuckled in disbelief. "I can’t believe that."

"Believe it," Azreal said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "It’s a bit of a legend around here."

She paused for a moment, her mind still trying to process everything Azreal had just told her. Then, with a playful smile, she turned to face him fully.

"Let me guess," she said, her voice teasing. "You want to commemorate our first meeting, where you kidnapped me from the Fae realm, huh? To teach our children that kidnapping their mate is totally okay?"

Azreal laughed, his beady eyes twinkling with amusement. "For sure, if that’s what you’re into."

Gabbi pushed him gently on the chest, and they both laughed. But before she knew it, Azreal had closed the distance between them, his lips trailing a teasing kiss down her throat. Her breath hitched, and she found herself melting against him. The warmth of his hands, the heat of his body, everything about him pulled her in.

"If that’s the case," Gabbi whispered breathily, trying to steady her voice as he kissed her, "I want them to carve that exact moment where you knocked my head into that tree while mid-flight. Our kids have to know that their father is a reckless psychopath."

Azreal burst into laughter, the sound rumbling through her. He lifted her chin with a finger, his dark eyes glowing with intensity. "Don’t worry, little mate," he murmured, his voice low and soothing. "I have other redeeming qualities."

"Like what?" Gabbi asked, her lips curving into a playful smile as she pressed closer to him.

"Like this." Azreal closed the distance between them, capturing her lips with his.

The kiss was slow, deliberate, and filled with a passion that made her heart race. When he deepened the kiss, his tongue gently coaxing hers, her entire body seemed to melt against his. There was something tender yet fierce about the way he kissed her, as if he were claiming her, marking her as his.

When they finally pulled away for air, his eyes were dark with desire.

"You’re mine," he growled softly, the words a possessive claim that made her pulse race.

Before she could respond, his lips were on hers again, but this time the kiss was fiercer, more demanding. Gabbi gasped in surprise when Azreal lifted her off the ground, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He carried her effortlessly, pressing her against the cool stone wall as his lips ravaged hers, his hands roaming over her body with a desperate need.

Gabbi’s mind was a haze of desire, but something felt off. Her eyes fluttered open, and she realized they were still in the Heritage Room, surrounded by statues of Azreal’s ancestors. The stone figures seemed to watch them with judgmental eyes, and suddenly the weight of where they were hit her like a splash of cold water.

"Wait, Azreal—" she tried to protest, but he silenced her with another kiss, his lips insistent and overwhelming.

Oh well, she tried to stop him. If they were that angry, they should punish their son, grandson, grand grand son. And it goes on.

Gabbi’s mind fought to stay focused, but her body was betraying her. She moaned into his mouth, her hands gripping his shoulders as he ground his hips into hers, sending waves of pleasure through her.

It wasn’t until the tip of Azreal’s wing accidentally knocked over a nearby statue that reality snapped back into place for both of them.

"Oh, shoot," Azreal muttered, pulling back as the statue fell.

Thankfully, it didn’t break. Azreal set Gabbi down gently and rushed over to lift the statue.

The statue looked quite heavy and she opened her mouth saying, "Do you need some.... Help... " Gabbi watched dumbfounded as his strong arms easily lifted the heavy stone figure back into place.

Wow.

Gabbi stood there, still breathless, watching him with wide eyes. The sight of his muscles flexing as he moved the statue sent a fresh wave of arousal through her, and she couldn’t help but admire the raw strength he possessed. There was something undeniably sexy about it, something primal that stirred deep within her.

Azreal caught her watching him and smirked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "You okay there, little mate?"

Gabbi blinked, snapping out of her trance. "Yeah, I’m... fine," she stammered, her cheeks flushing.

Azreal stepped closer, his expression filled with playful excitement. "How about I show you my real room? The one where I actually live, with all my stuff? You know, the place you can snoop around in all you want?"

Gabbi’s heart skipped a beat. The idea of seeing Azreal’s personal space, of learning more about him beyond the public façade of the king, intrigued her.

However, if they could lose control in the sanctuary of his ancestors, what then would happen in the privacy of his room.

Yet like a moth drawn to a flame, Gabbi nodded her head. "Sure."