Claimed by the Prince of Darkness novel Chapter 230

Chapter 230: The Boline Seeds

After thirty minutes, the carriage left the gates of the Sylvan’s mansion and upon catching sight of Sawyer, it slowed down.

He slipped inside the vehicle, shutting the door behind him, while his sister looked outside as if looking for the mirror. Her eyebrows faintly drew close and she asked,

"Was the mirror not there?"

"Oh, it was very much there," Sawyer said, dropping onto the bench beside Hailey with a long, exhausted sigh. "The mirror broke and joined right back. But it wouldn’t move. Not an inch."

"Is it heavy?" Hailey asked, leaning forward, the wooden box shifting in her lap as she turned toward him. Her eyes were bright with the particular urgency of someone chasing a solution before it slipped away.

Sawyer shook his head with a hint of frustration slipping into his voice as he said, "I doubt any number of people moving it would get it out of there. It’s not heavy the way a piano is heavy. It’s—" he exhaled, dragging a hand down his face. "It’s stuck. Like it’s rooted into the floor itself. I put everything I had into it and it didn’t so much as creak."

Outside, the carriage horses shifted restlessly against their harnesses, one of them stamping a hoof against the packed snow. The sky had brightened considerably with rays of light passing through the gaps of the clouds.

Angelina’s face turned speculative, her gaze drifting toward the frosted glass, toward the mansion. She tapped one gloved finger slowly against her knee, thinking.

"Maybe it needs a witch’s touch to move it," she said finally, half to herself.

"It probably needs Ruelle there," Sawyer muttered, and he could only hope that his cousin had found her. As they themselves weren’t much of help except for finding the entire piece of mirror.

Soon the carriage started to move, carrying them away from there and heading in the direction of the Slaters’ mansion.

When they returned, Oliver looked outside and said, "His Highness has returned." Some carriages that weren’t there when they had left were now parked in the front.

"He has??"

Hailey didn’t wait for the carriage to fully stop. She shoved the door open the moment the wheels began to slow, one boot already reaching for the ground before the vehicle had finished coming to a halt, and the momentum sent her stumbling forward onto the packed snow of the drive. She would have gone down flat on her face if a hand hadn’t shot out and caught her by the elbow.

"Don’t trouble us for another grave to be dug," Sawyer muttered, releasing her once she’d found her footing.

But Hailey didn’t care about it as she hurried to where Edward stood talking to Hermes. "Your Highness! Did you find Ruelle?!" Because she doubted he would be here if she wasn’t found.

"Of course, what do you take me for?" Edward huffed with his chin up. "Do you think there’s anything I can’t do? Her wounds must be being dressed right now with Lucian with her. Though I wished I was the one to end that lowly—"

He was caught off guard when Hailey threw her hands around him and let out a sigh of relief,

"Thank God!" Tears brimmed in her eyes.

This led to Edward standing stiffly, ready to peel her off of him but then his eyes met his attendant’s, who used his hand as if making a patting action, and the prince’s lips pursed. He finally patted with his index finger.

"There there."

Angelina walked toward the entrance, Oliver following closely behind her. She reached the steps where Hermes stood and asked, "Where are the others?"

"His Majesty and the Elder Minister have gone to gather those who can be used for the sacrifice," Hermes informed her as if he were reporting the weather. "Miss Peyton has yet to return. The others are inside."

He paused for a moment before adding, "The officers are clearing the underground hideout Ezekiel Henley was using as we speak. The Elder Minister assigned Minister Sylvan to oversee it. I suspect it is to keep him away from the matters involving Miss Ruelle."

When silence fell around them, with the sounds of birds chirping, Sawyer asked with a flat tone,

"Where is Henley?"

Hailey pulled away from Edward a little, watching Hermes with red-rimmed eyes, waiting to hear.

"He’s dead, Sire. Miss Ruelle killed him..." Hermes answered and there was a quiet sigh of relief in the air. "She used him as a sacrifice to help Mr. Dane Slater."

Upon hearing this, whatever composure the Ravencroft twins had maintained through the carriage ride fell away and they ran inside the mansion. They pushed through the prayer hall doors before moving towards the ice blocks.

"How is he?" Sawyer demanded, arriving beside Dane’s cold body. He noticed the heart in there and he was glad to know whatever Ruelle did had worked.

His father placed his hand on his shoulder and said, "It is still too early to say anything. It might take time."

Sawyer’s head turned to look at his father with a frown. "But the attendant said the king and the elder minister went to fetch people who can be used for sacrifice. The heart has been formed, and with Ruelle’s abilities, Dane should back right away," Sawyer sounded sure, though the people in the room wore grim expressions.

"We know where Belladonna’s mirror is," Angelina voiced what they had found.

"That’s right," Sawyer laughed, though it didn’t reach his eyes.

"Because it isn’t wise for her to use the magic so closely," Lord Azriel said, stepping through the doorway.

His voice was quiet, but it carried the particular weight of a man accustomed to speaking last and having every word land regardless. The room’s attention shifted toward him at once. He walked toward the ice bed, his hands folded behind his back, his eyes moving over the newly formed heart.

As excited and as eager as everyone in the room had been to see Dane returned to them, Azriel had noticed something most had overlooked.

As much as Azriel wanted his eldest son back, he did not want it at the cost of a life that would break Lucian entirely. He had already buried one son in his heart tonight, in the space between hearing the news and confirming it wasn’t true. He would not stand by and let this house trade one loss for another simply because hope had made everyone forget what a price was.

"Even if Septimus and Carnifex bring healthy bodies," Azriel continued as he raised his hand to brush a strand away from Dane’s forehead, "there is still a chance that Ruelle’s own life will shorten because of this. Pulling life from one person and giving it to another is not something without consequence. The best we can do is wait and watch."

"Forgive me, but what about Belladonna’s ingredients and the mirror?" Kevin asked. He’d believed that was how Mr. S would be brought back, as that was why everyone had scattered away to find the needed things.

A weary sigh escaped Edward’s lips. He explained,

"The Belladonna’s ingredients help in seeing the person who has already passed. It’s a method used to look connected with the dead. What Ruelle can do is check whether Dane has passed through or not."

The hours went by with snow beginning to melt on the ground as the clouds in the sky began to clear up. People had come and gone from the mansion, officers arriving with reports from the forest and other places, while King Spetius and the elder minister returned with ten people. And just like that, morning turned to night, where lanterns burned brightly all around the mansion with people still awake even though it was midnight.

But in the room that belonged to the youngest Slater, time had stopped.

Lucian had not left her side since she’d fallen asleep out of sheer exhaustion. He had eased her down onto the bed without waking her, drawing the blanket up to her chin and had taken his place beside her, watching her as the hours had deepened.

At some point past two in the morning, Ruelle woke.

"Lucian?" Her voice came out rough, scraped clean by hours of sleep and the damage to her throat.

"I’m right here," Lucian answered, and when she was about to get up, he helped her up. He let her rest against his chest, hearing the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. The light in the room returned with candles beginning to burn on the stands. "Do you have an appetite to eat?"

She wasn’t sure if she did... Even though Ezekiel was dead, so was Lachlan and Dane. All she wanted to do was curl in bed.

"What about you?" Ruelle asked softly.

"Not yet," Lucian replied, as though the matter held little importance.

She noticed the dark tendrils continue to persist and her eyebrows drew together. "Then... shall we eat now?"

Without moving her from where she rested against him, Lucian reached towards the side of the bed and caught hold of the braided cord hanging beside the bedpost. He pulled it twice, a signal for the meal to be brought up to the room.

Her hand moved towards the dark smoke curling around them. The corruption prickled faintly against her fingertips when she touched it, restless beneath her skin. She could only imagine how much effort it was taking him to keep it contained.

Ruelle’s hand slipped into his and she murmured, "Your corruption is still spreading. We should treat it."

Lucian’s gaze dropped to their joined hands, his fingers tightening around hers.

"It will settle."

As Hailey made her way through the corridors, the alcohol finally caught up with her. Her steps began to veer, and before she knew it, she had both arms wrapped around the wall as though it were the only thing keeping her upright.

She rested her cheek against it and muttered, "I might end up falling asleep right here."

While Hailey waited for the corridor to stop tilting beneath her feet, something suddenly swept past behind her like a gust of wind. Her eyes snapped open and she looked behind her.

"...what was that?" she murmured, blinking hard, unsure if it was the drink or something real.

Before she could turn fully around, she heard Kevin call her name from the other end of the corridor. He asked her, "What are you doing here? Let me see you to your room."

Back in the room, Ruelle and Lucian had nearly finished eating when a knock sounded at the door. Ruelle wondered if it was Maude, but when the door opened, she caught sight of her father’s assistant.

When Peyton’s eyes first met Ruelle’s her face tightened at the sight. Sensing the glare from Lucian, she offered a deep bow and extended her hands.

"I found the seeds of Boline, Miss Ruelle. I thought you would like to know about it."

Boline...

A plant was grown with the help of the dead, and it had to be of someone whom she shared attachment with. Else the plant would die. She felt her throat tighten, knowing where the soil was going to come from for the plant to thrive. She said,

"I will see you in the prayer hall."

Peyton bowed once again before stepping out and the door clicked shut.

Ruelle stared at the closed door and she took two bites from the bread. Feeling Lucian’s eyes on her, she managed a small smile and said,

"For all the energy I need."

Burying the seeds would need no magic or spell, which was why Lucian hadn’t stopped her. And Ruelle was aware of it, as aware as the black tendrils that moved on the ground.

She slowly set the bread aside and turned towards him on the bed.

Her body was still stiff from the sleep, but she reached for him. Her fingers found the sharp line of his jaw, the tension that lived there even in rest. Seeing him watch her. She then carefully pulled him down to her and pressed her lips to his.

It was not a demanding kiss. It was soft and exploratory. Her fingers curled against his jaw, and she let herself linger there for a moment, waiting for him to respond. But he kissed her back only faintly and she pulled away with worry.

"Was it bad?" she asked, searching his eyes. She then awkwardly laughed. "I mean, the bruises must look terrible."

Lucian’s jaw worked. "Ruelle."

"Like my whole face is swollen, it’s like you’re kissing a puffer fi—"

Her words were cut short as Lucian kissed her. The kiss wasn’t soft, it was one that felt starved. His hand slid to the back of her head, careful to avoid the wound, but determined to pull her close. Whatever restraint had held him back disappeared.

Ruelle’s breath shivered apart. Her good hand found his shoulder and held on to it. And she kissed him back with the same hunger, trying to tell him, without words, that she was here.

"Ow!" a soft wince escaped from her lips and he pulled away from her with his darkened eyes on her.

"This is why..." he murmured, gently brushing her split lip. "Still want to continue?"

Ruelle’s fingers curled into his shirt, bringing him close, and she whispered, "More."

Though Lucian’s eyebrows subtly pulled together, he leaned in to give what she wanted.

And at the same time, while his attention was entirely on her, Ruelle quietly reached for the corruption. She caught the first dark thread of it and began drawing it through herself.