Claimed by the Prince of Darkness novel Chapter 204

Chapter 204: A Gentle Suggestion

Back inside the mansion, the sound of a sharp slap echoed through one of the quieter corridors. Caroline stared at her cousin in disbelief, one hand pressed against the reddening mark on her cheek. Tears welled almost immediately, more from shock than pain, her lips trembling as she struggled to find words.

"How could you..." she whispered before her voice rose. "I’m sick."

Lachlan’s expression hadn’t changed. If anything, it had become colder as he replied, "Then perhaps you should be resting in bed instead of wandering through the house accusing your sister."

The quiet disappointment in it stung far more than if he had shouted. Caroline laughed bitterly, shaking her head. She said,

"Father died because of a witch. Everyone keeps pretending none of it matters anymore! Am I not even allowed to say what I think?"

"No," the answer came immediately and Lachlan took one slow step towards her. "You are allowed to grieve. But you are not allowed to use grief as an excuse to become cruel."

Resentment flickered across Caroline’s face and her jaw tightened. "You always take her side!"

Lachlan stared at Caroline, knowing fully well that his uncle had never treated Caroline harshly. All those things were directed at Ruelle. He sighed before saying,

"Listen to me carefully, Caroline." Lachlan’s voice lost what little patience remained. "Whether you like it or not, Ruelle is part of the Slater family now. If you continue speaking like this, you’ll invite trouble you won’t be able to survive."

Caroline’s lips trembled. For a second Lachlan genuinely thought she might apologise. Instead, she glared at him through tear-filled eyes, turned on her heel and stormed away. Her footsteps echoed down the corridor and a moment later, a door slammed.

The sound lingered long after she had disappeared.

Lachlan remained standing where he was. Only when the silence returned did he quietly rub the bridge of his nose. The slap still stung against his own hand.

"You know she won’t change," a lazy voice came from down the corridor. "Her father’s blood runs far too deep."

Lachlan turned and noticed Dane leaning comfortably against the stone wall, one ankle crossed over the other. The smile that tugged at the corner of his lips was small, but it deepened by the slightest fraction when their eyes met.

"It would be kinder to silence her before she becomes troublesome," the words were delivered so lightly that, for a fleeting moment, Lachlan almost mistook them for a joke.

"Stay out of it," Lachlan didn’t bother hiding the irritation in his voice. "There are other ways to help people besides killing them."

Dane blinked once and asked, "There are?" His brows lifted with what looked like genuine curiosity before his head tilted ever so slightly. "Like a slap?"

The smile spread another fraction on the pureblooded vampire’s lips. "And who said anything about killing? You’re giving me rather creative ideas, Mr. Hawksley."

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