Claimed by the Prince of Darkness novel Chapter 134

Chapter 134: Crossing lines

Ruelle glanced down at the bandage wrapped around her, fingers still resting where she had just secured it.

"But... Lucian, the bandages will get wet," she said, turning her head slightly over her shoulder.

He had already taken a few steps away, his back to her, when he paused.

"I meant for myself," Lucian corrected, his voice steady despite the faint tension in it.

"Oh, okay." Ruelle watched as Lucian moved around the wooden divider and turned the faucet. The faint rush of water filled the room before he reappeared.

Now that she thought of it, she had never once seen him make use of the bath. In the beginning of her stay, she had thought to step out whenever he needed the bath, yet each time she woke, he was already gone.

The thought barely settled when Lucian’s shirt slipped from his shoulders, the fabric loosening, before falling soundlessly to the floor. Her gaze traced the breadth of his shoulders before following the slow narrowing of his frame to his waist.

She felt guilty when her eyes caught the red lines she had made on him.

"Careful," Lucian remarked, his voice low. "Keep looking at me like that, and I may forget why you’re dressed at all."

Having been caught red-handed, she didn’t deny his accusation. She asked softly, "Won’t the water be freezing at this hour?"

"It is. I need it colder than that," Lucian replied. His gaze lowered slowly along the outer line of her bare back before lifting to her again. As if measuring something in her silence, he asked, "Are you cold?"

Ruelle shook her head. With the way he was watching her, it felt quite the opposite, she thought to herself. He watched her a moment longer, as if considering something.

"I will keep the water shallow. You can join me," Lucian offered with a straight face that one would have thought he was speaking about the weather.

"We wouldn’t fit together there," Ruelle blurted the first thing that passed her mind. Blood rose to her cheeks as she realised what left her lips and she bit the inside of her cheek.

Lucian’s gaze sharpened on her instantly. He then said, "You’d be surprised."

Heat sank deeper beneath her skin the longer he looked at her. And for a fleeting moment, a strange ache formed beneath her skin. 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚

"P–please forget I said that." She closed her eyes as though that might undo her folly. Bury me now, she thought to herself. She was far too aware of him.

Lucian stood there for a second before he picked up his clothes and stepped behind the wooden divider, leaving her breathless.

Foolish, she scolded herself as she made her way to the trunk of her clothes.

On the other side of the divider, Lucian stepped into the bath. The cold water rose around him as he lowered himself beneath the surface and for a moment, there was only silence before he emerged.

Water slid along the sharp lines of his face as his hand passed through his hair, pushing the dark strands back. Drops of water gathered at his jaw before tracing the length of his neck and shoulders, disappearing beneath the surface once more.

His eyes remained closed for a second longer before they opened, the darkness in them no longer held back.

The scent of Ruelle’s blood lingered in the air and the edge of his fang cut his tongue. He welcomed the taste of his own blood to steady what threatened to turn elsewhere.

When he turned to close the faucet, his eyes picked up the movement and he caught Ruelle through the narrow gap of the divider. Just in time her dress slipped from her shoulders and pooled at her feet, making his hand that rested on the edge of the bathtub tighten.

He turned and exhaled, murmuring, "Still not cold enough."

On the warmer side of the room, Ruelle had just pulled the nightgown over her head and the fabric slipped past her shoulders and settled against her skin. She walked to the bed and sat at the edge of it.

It felt like the calm after a storm. Though since she had set foot in Sexton, storms seemed to be one of the recurring things for the groundlings. Her thought went to what Bowen had said back in the den and she turned anxious.

She wondered who all would end up bidding on her. And at that thought, her eyes moved to look at the window where darkness settled beyond it.

Far from Sexton, a carriage rolled past the abandoned mansion when a brightness flickered through its broken windows and smoke escaped. The passengers were three instructors who were returning after a late drink at the common inn when the light caught their attention.

"Is there a celebration going on in there?" Mr. Savantique leaned forward while squinting through the glass to get a better look.

Dane’s eyes moved lazily toward the window and he murmured, "How festive to have a bonfire inside."

"That is not a bonfire," Gemma said as her eyebrows furrowed. "Someone set the mansion on fire." Hearing this, Mr. Savantique straightened at once and knocked on the carriage wall. He called, "Jermey. To the mansion. Quickly!"

Upon arriving, they caught sight of two carriages still standing.

"Let us hope they haven’t turned any humans. The last time was disastrous," the potion instructor huffed as they stepped inside.

"Instructors—" one of the Halfling students said quickly, relief flooding his face. He carried a bucket of water in his hand, which he had drawn from the well.

"What have you and others been doing? This property is under Sexton’s care," Mr. Savantique demanded. "Where are the rest?"

"There are three of them. Two are in the Den and one on the first floor. The rest left right away," informed the Halfling, following them.

"I’ll see the one upstairs," Gemma stated, already moving, her heels striking sharply against the floor as she disappeared toward the staircase.

By now the fire should have quietened down, but one of the students had ended up knocking the trolley of liquor bottles right into the flaming room. Mr. Savantique and Dane continued toward the den, the Halfling following close behind.

Once the fire was completely put out, Mr. Savantique crouched beside Orpheus, who lay unconscious with blood smeared along the side of his head. He checked his pulse, then sighed.

"Seriously," he muttered, "what sport were you all playing here? And to burn things around?"

"Well, someone clearly felt cold," Dane murmured as he walked across the room where Bowen lay groaning, clutching his side. His shirt was soaked through, and the wound along his ribs was deep enough to expose flesh.

"More like pissed..." the Halfling muttered.

Curious, Dane asked, "What did he do to earn it?" glancing briefly at the Halfling.

"T–that, Orpheus grabbed Lucian’s roommate... and Bowen tried to drink from her."

"Lucian Slater?" Mr. Savantique asked, raising his eyebrows. He then turned to Dane. "I thought you were a menace back in the day of your student life, but your brother surpasses it. Yesterday in class he was breaking test tubes and beakers."

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