Mated To The Cruel Prince-Chapter 920: King Meet King

Zal’therak, Islinda’s half-brother, stood at a distance, mounted on his beast, an unsettling creature with ridged scales and bone spines, its eyes glowing an unnatural shade of green. The beast snorted, its nostrils flaring as it shifted uneasily beneath its rider, but neither man moved. The stare between Aldric and Zal’therak was full of silent calculation.

Unlike Aldric, who had come with a battalion of soldiers, Zal’therak was alone. It rankled him. The Wraith king didn’t fear him. It was a bitter pill to swallow, and Aldric’s gaze hardened as he stood still, allowing the tension to stretch.

Aldric assumed that Zal’therak’s arrogance was borne not just of his own confidence, but from the knowledge that he had Islinda. If anything happened to him, Islinda would die. That knowledge must have given him the boldness to stand alone. And now, here they were, two kings, staring at each other from across the distance.

Aldric moved, but just as he took a step forward, Issac’s hand shot out, gripping his arm and stopping him. Aldric turned to face him, his eyes narrowing.

"Aldric, wait," Issac warned urgently with a lowered tone. "We don’t know him. You don’t know what he might do."

Aldric smiled, his lips curving into a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Don’t worry. I’ll be fine," he assured him.

Issac hesitated, but he nodded, stepping back as Aldric walked toward Zal’therak.

The distance between them closed, and just as Aldric took a few steps closer, he stopped. The silence stretched between them before Aldric spoke, his voice cool but assertive. "You came, Zal’therak."

Zal’therak’s eyes never left Aldric’s, and for a long moment, he didn’t respond. The tension in the air was thick, both men measuring each other, perhaps for the first time, without the veil of animosity or mutual distrust. But then, to Aldric’s surprise, Zal’therak slid off his beast, the creature staying perfectly still. And just as quickly Zal’therak’s monstrous form began to change.

His bony, skeletal structure shifted, his features shrinking and smoothing. It was an unsettling sight as the rough, jagged edges of his form faded, and was replaced with a familiar form. A handsome Fae with sharp but fair features, now stood in front of Aldric. Horns curled from his forehead, gleaming like polished bone, and his presence was domineering, yet undeniably elegant.

"It’s nice to finally meet my brother-in-law, Prince..." Zal’therak began, but then he corrected himself. "No, King Aldric. I believe congratulations are in order."

A smirk tugged at Aldric’s lips at the mention of his new title. He didn’t expect to feel such a sense of camaraderie, yet for a brief moment, he did. The man, though a stranger, had a presence that was difficult to ignore. "We have a tent set up for this conversation if you don’t mind," Aldric announced, gesturing to the structure nearby.

Zal’therak gave him a nod, a hint of approval in his eyes. "Let’s go then." He didn’t hesitate, even though this might all be a set-up. But there was only one way to find out.

Before they left, Aldric glanced back at his beast.

"Don’t worry," Zal’therak said, as if sensing Aldric’s unease. "Ajah and I share a bond. As long as no one bothers him, he’ll be a good boy."

Aldric’s eyes flicked to Straggler, standing proud and untamed several yards away. "Same with my ka’er," he responded with a hint of pride. "We’ve got a connection. As long as no one tests it, he’s harmless."

Zal’therak raised an eyebrow, the faintest smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "Nice. Perhaps one day, they can be friends."

Aldric nodded, his expression unreadable. "Perhaps, one day. Let’s go then."

The two men turned, walking toward the tent. As they passed Aldric’s soldiers, they stared openly at Zal’therak. This was the first time some of them had seen a wraith up close—a creature that both unnerved and fascinated them.

The Wraiths were notorious for disabling a Fae’s power before killing them. As they looked at him, it dawned on them that Zal’therak wasn’t entirely a Wraith. He was half-Fae, half-Wraith. And that, in their eyes, was an abomination.

Zal’therak must have sensed their judgment, for he tilted his head slightly, a sardonic smile curling his lips. "Your people are such lovely people," he remarked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Aldric, never one to pass up an opportunity for sharp wit, replied with the same sarcasm, "Oh, they are."

The tension between the soldiers and Zal’therak was palpable, but neither man acknowledged it as they entered the tent.

Inside, a lavish table had been set, filled with sumptuous foods. The smells were rich, a mix of herbs, meats, and spices.

"I hope you don’t mind," Aldric said as he reached for a glass of wine, taking a generous sip. "But I tend not to discuss politics on an empty stomach." He raised the glass, his eyes glinting with a quiet challenge. "I hope you can stomach our kind’s food."

Zal’therak’s eyes narrowed as he surveyed the spread, but he didn’t hesitate. He took a seat across from Aldric, picking up a spoon. "Of course, I can. I’m half-Fae, after all," he replied, his voice smooth and composed.

Aldric watched him closely as Zal’therak dug into the food confidently. The tension between them remained thick, but there was a calmness, a sort of unspoken truce in the way they shared the same space.

It wasn’t until the third spoonful that Aldric broke the silence. "You don’t worry that it’s poisoned?" he asked, his voice probing.

Zal’therak didn’t even pause in his eating. He smiled at Aldric, the edges of his mouth curling. "Now, why waste poison on such good food?"

Aldric scrutinized him, his gaze sharp. "What gives you such confidence? Because you’re holding my mate hostage?"

Zal’therak paused, lifting his head to meet Aldric’s gaze. The smile never left his lips. "My sister Islinda told me you’re an honorable Fae, and I should trust you. So I’m putting that to work," he said, his tone even, unshaken. "Or is there a reason why I shouldn’t trust you, King Aldric?"