Mated To The Cruel Prince-Chapter 856: She Can’t Be Our Queen

Gabbi spent the entire day on edge, her mind replaying Azreal’s declaration hours ago. The idea of sharing a bed with him, again, made her stomach twist into tight, uncomfortable knots.

Despite wanting to believe the birdman had been joking, her experiences with him so far indicated otherwise. Azreal wasn’t the type to joke, nor was he the type to go back on his word. She knew that much. And so, the thought of his towering presence beside her tonight left her feeling jittery and uneasy.

The routine remained the same.

Eat. Bathe. Sleep. Repeat.

Gabbi’s days were mechanical, dictated by the few servants that brought her meals but never spoke. They were courteous yet distant, their eyes never quite meeting hers, as if she were some strange creature they couldn’t comprehend. Her attempts to make conversation were met with tight-lipped smiles and nods, and it was clear they had no intention of engaging beyond what was necessary.

The door to her room remained guarded at all times. Even if Gabbi had wanted to leave, there was no opportunity. The Ravenkind guards outside were always there, silent and watchful. And deep down, even if she’d somehow managed to slip past them, the memory of falling into the abyss beneath their mountain kingdom. She hadn’t dared step near that ominous gap since.

Gabbi could feel it in her bones: the Ravenkind didn’t like her. No, that wasn’t right — they didn’t want her. Humans weren’t welcomed here. They saw her as an intruder, something foreign and unwelcome. It wasn’t just her imagination. The way they looked at her like a prey animal wandering into a den of predators confirmed her suspicions. She didn’t belong. Not in this kingdom. Not in this world.

And yet, Azreal had chosen her.

She wasn’t sure if that made things better or worse.

To distract herself from the impending night and her spiraling thoughts, Gabbi had resorted to the only thing left to occupy her time: exploring the room she had been trapped in for what felt like an eternity.

The space was surprisingly devoid of any personal touches, bare of the marks one would expect in the quarters of a king. No paintings. No keepsakes. Nothing that gave her any insight into the man or Valravn who ruled the Ravenkind.

That is, until she found the diary.

It had been hidden away carefully but there was nothing joblessness and boredom couldn’t achieve.

The moment she opened the leather-bound journal and saw the handwriting scrawled across the pages, she knew it was his. Azrael’s. The elegant script, sharp yet refined, matched his personality perfectly.

At first, she hesitated. It felt like she was invading his privacy, like she was crossing a line she shouldn’t. But boredom was a powerful motivator, and curiosity was even stronger. Besides, it wasn’t like he was ever going to tell her any of this on his own.

The first few pages were jarring, filled with anger and frustration that seemed to leap off the paper. Azreal wrote of suddenly becoming king, of his father’s death, and of his resentment toward the mate bond that had ruined his family. His mother had died first, and the bond that had tethered his father to her had only brought misery after she passed. His father had become a shell of the man he once was, eventually succumbing to illness and despair.

Azreal had been left to pick up the pieces, thrust into a position of power he never wanted. The kingdom had become a burden. His wings, once symbols of freedom, now felt like shackles binding him to the ground.

"I pray I never have a mate."

"I wish I didn’t have to be king."

"If only I were free like the birds in the air."

"To think I have wings, but can’t fly."

Gabbi’s heart clenched as she read those words. She could almost feel the weight of his pain, his anger. It was raw, unfiltered, the confessions of a man who had been forced into a role he hadn’t chosen. In a way, she understood. She, too, had been thrust into a world she hadn’t asked for.

But as she read further, something shifted. The anger, while still present, began to give way to something else.... a longing. Azreal wrote of the good memories he had with his parents, of the moments when they had been happy, before the darkness of the mate bond had consumed them. There was a quiet sadness in his words, but also a glimmer of hope.

Gabbi found herself smiling, despite herself. In those pages, she saw a different side of Azreal, not the cold, calculating king who had taken her captive, but a man who had lost so much and yet still held onto a fragile hope for something more.

It wasn’t until she reached the last page that her heart truly stopped.

"I want a mate."

The words were simple, but they hit her like a punch to the gut.

He had changed?

Somewhere along the line, Azreal had gone from rejecting the very idea of a mate to longing for one. But why? What had caused such a drastic shift? And why her?

Her mind raced. Was she truly his mate, or was this some mistake, some twisted game of fate? Did he even want her, or was he just bound to her by some ancient bond he couldn’t escape?

Gabbi had half a mind to storm out of the room and demand answers from him right then and there. But she stopped herself. As much as she wanted to confront him, she knew better than to act impulsively. Not yet.

Instead, she carefully placed the diary back where she’d found it, making sure everything was exactly as it had been. The last thing she needed was for Azreal to know she had been snooping.

But one thing was certain: she wasn’t going to let this go. One way or another, she was going to get answers.

Azreal stood at the head of the chamber, his wings tucked tightly against his back as the room filled with the low murmurs of the Valravn. All manner of birdfolk stood in attendance, their sharp eyes glinting in the light, feathers ruffling as they conversed in their strange language. The air was thick with tension, the unique cadence of bird-like sounds creating an eerie echo that reverberated through the stone walls.

This was no ordinary meeting. The mood was far too serious. Every gaze was fixed on Azreal, their king, but even more so, they were fixed on the storm brewing around his latest decision. His choice of a human mate had sent ripples of uncertainty throughout the kingdom.

Azreal’s face was a mask of calm, but inside, he was bracing himself for the inevitable challenge. It wasn’t long before one came.

From the crowd, an older Valravn female stepped forward. Her feathers were streaked with silver, a mark of her age and wisdom, and her eyes gleamed with a fierce, protective light. She was well-respected, one of the elders who had seen the rise and fall of their kind.

"Azreal," she began, her voice cutting through the murmurs, "you cannot claim that human as your mate."

The crowd stirred, some nodding in agreement while others watched Azreal closely. The weight of their scrutiny bore down on him, but he stood firm, jaw clenched as he prepared to answer.

"Have you forgotten?" the elder continued, stepping closer. "The first human who came among us—trusted by our people—betrayed us. She nearly led to our annihilation. And now you bring another human into our midst? Have you learned nothing from the past?"

Azreal’s eyes narrowed, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He had expected this argument. It was the same story they clung to, century after century, using it as a shield against the world beyond their borders.

"That was centuries ago, the world is no longer what it was. Humans are no longer the same, and neither are we. You cannot continue to judge them by the actions of one." He thundered.

A murmur of discontent rippled through the chamber, but before anyone else could speak, another figure emerged from the crowd. A tall man, broad-shouldered with dark feathers, wore a necklace made of bird claws around his neck — a sign of his status as a warrior. His eyes gleamed with challenge as he stepped forward, facing Azreal. fɾēewebnσveℓ.com

"The human doesn’t know our ways," the man said with a low and accusatory voice. "She cannot be our queen. She cannot lead us. If you insist on keeping her, you are betraying your own people."

Azreal’s gaze darkened as he met the warrior’s stare. "I will teach her our ways. She will learn. You cannot judge her before you’ve even given her a chance."

The room erupted in protests, voices rising in anger, feathers ruffling as the gathered Valravn argued amongst themselves. The very idea of a human queen, of allowing one of the kind who had once nearly destroyed them, was too much for many of them to accept.

Suddenly, the protests were silenced by a single look from another elder who had remained silent until now. Her eyes were sharp, and despite her age, she carried herself with the quiet strength of someone who had seen more than most of them ever would.

"Enough," she said, her voice commanding attention. The chamber quieted as she stepped forward, her gaze fixed on Azreal. "You say this human is your mate?"

Azreal nodded, swallowing hard. He knew this was the final test. If the elders refused, if they turned on him now, his bond with Gabbi could tear apart the fragile peace that held the Ravenkind together.

The elder nodded slowly, her face unreadable. "Very well," she said. "We will give her a chance."

Azreal’s heart raced. Relief surged through him, but it was quickly tempered by the tension still hanging in the air.

"But hear this," the elder continued, her voice hardening. "We will be watching her. Closely. If she gives us any reason to believe she will betray us, or that she poses a danger to our kind, we will not hesitate to end her life."

Azreal’s throat tightened, but he kept his expression neutral. He had known this would be the price. It was the only way.

"Fine," he agreed, his voice low but steady. "I accept your terms."