Mated To The Cruel Prince novel Chapter 700

Chapter 700: No Way Out

Islinda woke up, cold. Very, very cold. The kind of cold that seems to pierce her very bones, the chill relentless, and made her teeth chatter uncontrollably. She opened her eyes to an unfamiliar hut, a single illuminating the room, offering little warmth against the icy air. As if that wasn’t enough, a bitter draft swept through the open door, sending another shiver down Islinda’s spine.

Where the hell was she? The last thing she recalled was... oh fuck, Elena.Her heart raced as panic surged through her. She attempted to sit up, only to fall back with a painful thud. Of course, Elena would not risk her being free.

She looked down only to realize that her limbs were bound tightly with strange rough twigs, entwined in a way that left no room for movement. It looked deceptively fragile, but Islinda quickly discovered they were as unyielding as iron. freewebnσvel.cøm

Islinda strained against the bindings, veins bulging and muscles aching from the effort. The twigs seemed to tighten with her every move, cutting into her skin. Frustrated, she tried to twist and turn, seeking any weakness in the knots. It was no use. The bindings held firm, and her fingers were too numb to work out the intricate weave.

A groan of pain and frustration left her lips. Time was slipping away and something told her Elena would be back soon. The open door was her only chance of escape now even though it also meant exposure to the cold elements. Islinda contemplated inwardly, her gaze settling on the snow outside, its pristine surface beckoning her despite the frigid danger it posed. Fuck, she would take being frozen to death over being stuck with that mad witch, Elena.

Islinda began to crawl out on her belly since her hands and legs were tied. The rough wooden floor scraped against her skin, but she pushed on, determined. She managed to crawl outside, the cold snow wetting her clothes and causing her to shiver through her poor dressing.

She had not dressed for the weather. Islinda could never have guessed finding herself in this unfortunate situation. The plan had been simple: expose Elena and get rid of her once and for once. Now, she was the one fighting for her life.

The icy wind cut through her like a knife, making her teeth chatter uncontrollably. Islinda’s breaths came in sharp, painful gasps as she dragged herself through the snow.

Every movement sent a jolt of pain through her body, but she ignored it. She had to keep going, running on mere adrenaline. The forest around the hut was dense and dark, the trees looming over her like silent sentinels. The open door behind her cast a faint light that grew dimmer as she moved farther away.

There was an urgency pulsing through her veins. Islinda needed to find shelter, help, anything to get her out of this nightmare. The snow crunched under her as she crawled, her fingers and toes numb from the cold. She just had to keep moving, keep fighting.

With each pull of her arms and push of her legs, Islinda edged closer to the edge of the clearing. At least in the dark forest, she could be able to hide from Elena. Perhaps there, she could also find a way to loose these strange binding — it seemed to sap her strength.

Islinda could almost taste freedom, just a few more feet.

But then, there was a sound.

Footsteps crunching in the snow behind her.

She twisted her head, eyes wide with fear. The silhouette of a figure appeared in the doorway, backlit by the lamp inside the hut.

Elena.

Islinda’s heart sank, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop. She pushed herself harder, faster, ignoring the pain, the cold, the fear. She was so close. Her breaths came out in ragged gasps, misting in the frigid air as she focused on the trees just ahead.

Strange enough, Elena did not pursue. Instead, she stood at the spot, laughing, making a mockery of Islinda’s attempt to escape.

"Run, Islinda," Elena taunted, her voice carrying easily across the clearing. "Run as fast as you can."

The mocking laughter spurred Islinda on, but a gnawing sense of dread twisted in her gut. What was Elena planning? Why wasn’t she following?

Islinda glared back, hatred boiling inside her. With a sudden burst of defiance, she spat at Elena, the glob landing on her cheek.

Elena’s face darkened with rage, her eyes narrowing. For a moment, Islinda half-expected her to strike back, to lash out in anger. But instead, Elena’s expression turned cold, almost eerily calm. "You are going to pay for that," she promised darkly. "Now, let’s get started, shall we?"

Before Islinda could brace herself, Elena grabbed her by the hair and began to drag her through the snow. Islinda’s scalp prickled with excruciating pain, each tug sending sharp pangs through her head. She thrashed, trying to lessen the agony, but her bound hands rendered her efforts futile, only intensifying her suffering.

The snow beneath Islinda soaked through her clothes, adding another layer of discomfort to her predicament. A long, uneven trail formed behind her as Elena pulled her along, her face twisted in a cruel grin. The pristine white snow marred now with streaks of dirt and the occasional splash of blood from Islinda’s scraped limbs.

Elena didn’t seem to care about the pain she was inflicting, her grip on Islinda’s hair unwavering and merciless. Each step she took was deliberate, almost as if she reveled in the torment she inflicted. Islinda’s scalp felt like it was on fire, and she could barely see through the tears of pain stinging her eyes.

Gritting her teeth, Islinda’s fury only grew stronger. She would tear Elena from limb to limb the moment she was free. Every agonizing step, every cold breath, every humiliating drag. Every one of them. She would remember this pain, this humiliation, and she would make Elena pay dearly for every moment of it.

It felt like forever, but Elena finally stopped, yanking Islinda to a halt. She tossed her to the ground like a discarded doll, her eyes gleaming with malicious delight. "Welcome to where our twisted fate would end."

Islinda lay in the snow, panting, her body wracked with pain. She looked around and discovered they were far from the hut, now standing on what appeared to be a frozen-over lake. Islinda gasped, realizing one wrong move could send her plunging into the icy water below.

However, it wasn’t the treacherous ice that stopped Islinda’s heart. She managed to sit up, her eyes scanning the eerie, snow-covered landscape, only to discover they were not alone. A chair stood not far from them, and a figure sat slumped on it. It was Maxi, and she looked dead.

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