Mated To The Cruel Prince-Chapter 701: Die Over And Over

"No..." Islinda’s voice was a barely audible whisper, her breath misting in the frigid air. The sight of Maxi, looking so lifeless, filled her with a cold dread that not even the freezing air couldn’t match.

Panic surged through Islinda. "Maxi!" she called out, her voice cracking with fear and desperation. She tried to move closer, but the binds from the Boku tree held her fast.

"Oh, that one...." Elena said with no remorse, finally noticing the figure slumped on the chair, bound and motionless.

"What have you done to her?!" Islinda growled aggressively, anger surging through her. How much she hated Elena!

Elena explained nonchalantly, "I did not intend to do anything to her, however, she is quite stubborn and wouldn’t let go. She followed through the portal and left me no choice."

"So y-you killed her?" Islinda’s voice was edged with pain, unable to even fathom the thought of Maxi being dead.

Elena rolled her eyes. "She’s not dead... yet. I told you she’s a tough nut to crack. Not to mention, I had my hands full with you. I couldn’t exactly kill her and handle you at the same time. And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m running out of juice." She gestured to her face.

It was then Islinda took a good look at her and noticed the changes. Elena’s once vibrant red hair was now dull, streaked with gray. Deep wrinkles lined her face, marring the previously smooth skin. Whatever wretched ritual she had performed to reach this point, it was now taking its toll on her, rapidly aging her.

But even the deterioration wasn’t enough to dim the gleam of vengeance in her eyes. If anything, Elena was filled with desperation and it made her much more dangerous.

Elena’s lips twisted into a bitter smile, as if reading Islinda’s thoughts. "Surprised? This kind of magic has a cost, Islinda. A cost I’m willing to pay to see you suffer." She added, "And don’t even get any idea because even at my weakest, I’m still more than a match for you. You just can’t win, Islinda." She threatened her.

But Islinda was not moved by the threat, she was more concerned about Maxi. Although Elena said Maxi was okay, she couldn’t trust her words. She needed to see it for herself. As for her, she was indestructible — a fact Elena doesn’t know yet. Or so she thought. A little pain wouldn’t hurt until she figured out a way to get out of this and get back at Elena.

Mustering every ounce of strength, Islinda began to crawl across the ice towards Maxi, each movement agonizingly slow and painful. The ice creaked ominously beneath her, threatening to give way at any moment. But she didn’t care. She had to reach her friend.

Elena watched her struggle with a cruel smile. "Great, you don’t believe me. Fine, go on ahead," she mocked. "Crawl to her like the little ant you are. See if you can save her. Not that it will make any difference. In the end, I’ll make sure she accompanies you so you don’t get lonely in hell"

Islinda ignored Elena, her focus entirely on Maxi. She reached the chair and with trembling hands, touched Maxi’s cheek. It was cold, but there was still a faint warmth, a small sign of life. Islinda’s heart pounded with a fragile hope.

"Maxi," she whispered urgently, "Wake up. Please, wake up."

Maxi’s eyes fluttered weakly, and she let out a faint groan, but that was all. Her features were deeply etched with pain as she was experiencing something agonizing.

Anger and despair welled up inside her, mixing with the pain and cold. Islinda turned to Elena and demanded, "What did you do to her?"

Elena laughed, "I told you she was a tough nut to crack, nearly out besting me. So I trapped her in her subconsciousness." She smirked wickedly as she announced, "In her most painful memory."

Islinda didn’t know how she managed it, but the surge of anger propelled her to her feet. Fueled by sheer rage, she charged at Elena, her heart pounding in her chest. She was close, just a few meters away, when Elena uttered a spell. Islinda’s body seized up, halting her in her tracks. She strained against the magical force, her veins bulging, her face turning red from the effort, but it was futile. Exhaustion set in as she realized she couldn’t move.

Elena’s laughter rang out, hollow and cruel, echoing across the icy lake. "Touching, really. I swear to the gods, this is the most entertaining day of my life." Her eyes gleamed with malevolent amusement.

Islinda’s voice trembled with frustration. "I don’t understand. Why are you doing this? Why me? I never did anything to you. Is it because of Aldric? I’ve seen the way you look at him. Fine then, you can have him. Just let Maxi go. Let’s settle this together, woman to woman."

Elena’s sneer deepened. "Seriously, you think I’m doing this because of some male? How dimwitted you are, Islinda. I quite had high expectations of you."

"Then if it’s not Aldric, what do you want? I don’t remember wronging you. You simply hated me. Why?"

Elena’s expression twisted with bitter contempt. "Because you’re the architect of all of it. If it hadn’t been for you, Dorcas would still be alive."

Islinda’s brow furrowed in confusion. "I don’t understand. Who is Dorcas?"

Elena scoffed, her voice dripping with venom. "You caused her death and you never even bothered to know her name. How pathetic can it get?" She leaned in closer, eyes blazing. "Two princes were head over heels in love with you. Prince Valerie was willing to swap your soul; he got Dorcas involved in it, and Prince Aldric was willing to kill her, thinking it would save you. The way I see it, though the dark Fae prince dealt the physical blow, you, Islinda, are the one responsible for Dorcas’s death."

Islinda’s breath caught in her throat. "Fuck," she whispered, realization dawning on her.

"Yes, indeed you’re fucked," Elena spat, "because you’re about to pay for your crime!"

Desperation laced Islinda’s voice. "But how are you a witch? You cannot be a witch and a Fae at the same time."

A sinister smile curled on Elena’s lips. "Because I was never Fae in the first place. I am Lola, the witch who committed the forbidden ritual and took over the real Elena’s body. And now, all my hard work has finally paid off. All of this ends tonight."

Dear God, Islinda swallowed. She was really in a deep shit. Who knew a mess Valerie got her into was going to bite her in the ass. If Elena, no, the witch wanted vengeance, like really wanted revenge, why couldn’t she take it up with Valerie. Why her? What did she do so wrong? Islinda didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

"Usually," Elena began, a dagger materializing in her hand causing Islinda’s eyes to go wild. "When I kill someone they remain dead, but yours doesn’t seem to be the case."

"Wait, Elena, we can talk this —" Islinda was still saying when she stabbed her in the gut and she let out a pained gasp.

Whatever spell was holding her seemed to vanish at that moment and Islinda found herself falling on the white snow, her blood spilling out. It hurt like hell and felt like dying as well. Except she was really dying. Islinda lay there bleeding out as the alluring sensation pulled her under again.

Islinda woke up with a startled gasp, groaning as she could feel the pain of her wound healing up.

"Incredible," Elena spoke, looming over her. "Just as I thought. You are not human, are you? Tell me then, what are you?" She was curious.

"Why don’t you untie me and find out?" Islinda said, her voice husky .

"Nice try," Elena laughed at her pathetic attempt at escaping. "I don’t need to know anyway because you’ll be dead in the end."

Elena straightened up, a cold smile on her lips. "So far, every effort to kill you has failed. You’re indestructible. So I thought, how do you kill someone who can’t be killed? And then this came to me."

"What?"

Islinda’s eyes widened in horror as Elena chanted a spell, and a crack snaked beneath her feet, revealing the dark, icy waters below.

"Oh God, no."

"I wonder how many times you can die and resurrect when you drown over and over again."

For the first time, Islinda felt true fear. "Elena, wait, we can—"

But before she could finish, the ice gave way. She plunged into the freezing water below, the cold shocking her breathless. Bound and helpless, she sank rapidly, the weight of her restraints dragging her down.

The icy water was merciless, numbing her body, freezing her thoughts. She struggled, her movements frantic but futile. Each time she died, she was revived in the freezing depths, only to drown again. It was a torturous cycle, a relentless loop of suffocation and cold.

The pain was unbearable, the darkness suffocating. Islinda’s lungs burned, her body convulsed with the need for air. Each resurrection brought a fleeting moment of awareness before the icy grip claimed her again. Her mind reeled, desperate for an escape, for anything to end the torment.

In that endless, agonizing cycle, a memory surfaced. A flicker of realization sparked within her. And it was in that moment of despair that Islinda remembered who she was.

What she was .