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Claimed by the Prince of Darkness

The clock struck midnight when Ruelle heard the echo of footsteps. She tensed, the fine hairs on the back of her neck standing on end in the cool night air. "You shouldn't be here," Ruelle whispered, her voice a breathless murmur. The silhouette finally came to stand under the moonlight, his dark red eyes watching her and his inky black hair ruffling. "Shouldn't I?" His voice was a dark caress, and she stood there captivated by the danger he exuded like perfume. "I haven’t seen you for the last two days," his tone low. His hand reached out, fingers brushing against the silk of her nightgown, tracing the trembling outline of her collarbone. "Tell me, were you avoiding me, or perhaps... entertaining other offers?" Ruelle’s heart raced, her breaths shallow. She declared, "I don't belong to anyone.” "A bold claim," he murmured, his breath a tantalising chill against her skin as he leaned in. "Yet here you are, pulse racing, your body tensed as if in anticipation of my touch." His fingers gripped her chin, tilting her face towards his. The moonlight caught his eyes, revealing a glint of predatory intent. "Or must I remind you whose touch you truly crave?"

ash_knight17 · Fantasie
Zu wenig Bewertungen
50 Chs

Scars of love

Ruelle's nerves trembled like leaves caught in a strong wind beneath the scrutiny of Lucian's intense gaze, each pass of his dark red eyes seeming to weigh her very soul. Her heart pounded within her chest as the gravity of his demanding demeanour left her thoroughly disarmed.

At the same moment, a sudden breeze swept through the woods, stirring her blonde locks, which brushed against her cheeks and fell softly across her face as she stood in front of the Elite vampire.

"What are you doing here in Sexton?" Lucian questioned, his tone sharpening by an edge she couldn't quite place. 

"Attending class like everyone else," Ruelle replied, her voice small and uncertain. In that moment, she felt exposed, her carefully guarded inadequacies laid bare under his scorn. His annoyance was an unspoken accusation, echoing the clumsy moments that had earlier earned his contempt, leaving her to question every flaw she had tried to conceal. "To make a living…"

Lucian's brow furrowed ever so slightly, his eyes flickering with a flicker of something Ruelle couldn't quite decipher. For a moment, he seemed caught off-guard by her response, before his usual aloofness reasserted itself.

"Of course. What else would have brought you here?" He murmured, his voice laced with mockery.

Ruelle blinked, confused as her palms began to sweat. Wasn't that the reason everyone came to Sexton—to make a living? Yet, beneath his seemingly simple statement, his words hinted at an implication she couldn't grasp.

"What are you two doing there?" Mr. Jinxy's voice cut through the tension, his eyes narrowing at Hailey, who rested casually against the rough bark of a towering tree, and Ruelle, who appeared engrossed in a conversation with Lucian. "Both of you, follow me. We are going to the shed to fetch the weapons used for Hunt and Stake."

Ruelle didn't think twice before bolting out of there with Hailey, hot on Mr. Jinxy's trail. As they fled, she couldn't shake the sensation of eyes boring into her back, but she dared not glance back.

Over the next three days, life at Sexton resumed at its relentless pace. The peculiar classes came and went, during which Ruelle dutifully scribbled down every word the instructors uttered until her wrist ached from the constant note-taking.

During this time, a routine began to form with Hailey and Kevin, where they shared meals and discussed their unusual subjects. 

Now, in the quiet dining room, which was nearly empty save for a few lingering souls, the scent of dinner hung in the air. Ruelle found herself seated at a corner table, overlooking Hailey's writing, while Kevin sat across from her. It was then when she suddenly sensed someone's eyes on her. Her heart fluttered with unease as she glanced up, bracing for that familiar, intense gaze. 

But Lucian was nowhere to be seen, nor did she find anyone looking at her. She couldn't shake the way he looked at her, almost as if it haunted her. And although she was worried about running into him, she hadn't caught sight of him for the last three days.

"I think I've finally gotten it!" Kevin exclaimed with a small grin, looking up from his parchment to meet Ruelle's eyes.

"See? I told you you'd catch on quickly," Ruelle replied, a warm smile spreading across her face.

"Ruelle is a great teacher. I already feel like a distinguished lady," Hailey chimed in, stretching comfortably in her seat. "I wonder if we could ask Mr. S for some books out of pity," she sighed wistfully. "Yet we would still be far from accessing the library. I haven't earned anything yet. Every available job seems so daunting. Have you found work yet, Kevin?"

"Actually, I have to go now to clean the Elites' rooms and polish their shoes," Kevin explained, rising from his seat and gathering his belongings. "What about you, Ruelle?" he asked.

"I'm waiting for tomorrow when I return home for the weekend. I'll borrow some wool and knit sweaters or scarves to sell to the Elites," Ruelle replied with quiet determination. 

Kevin nodded in understanding. "I'll see you two tomorrow morning, then. Thanks for the help, Ruelle," he said with a grateful smile before waving goodbye and heading out.

"Thank God we're allowed to visit our families. I miss my parents," Hailey said, resting her arms on the table, her eyes filled with a wistful longing. She added with a fond smile, "Last week, my father packed snacks for me to take, as if I were leaving for a month."

Ruelle's smile wavered at Hailey's words, the warmth of her friend's fond memories casting long shadows across her own heart. "That's very thoughtful of him," she responded softly.

Inside, Ruelle felt an ache. In her world, affection was rarely spoken but rather wrapped in rules and standards tied to performance. Even so, she never questioned her family's love—it was the only kind she had ever known. Deep down, she clung to the belief that their love was woven into their expectations.

As the thoughts swirled in her mind, Ruelle silently hoped that Caroline wasn't still upset with her and would understand that coming to Sexton wasn't her choice. After lingering a few moments longer in the dining room, the two friends left the dining room.

The corridors stretched before them, dimly lit and filled with an eerie silence. As Hailey and Ruelle made their way to their door rooms, their footsteps echoed softly, each sound swallowed by the encroaching darkness. Just as Hailey opened her mouth to speak, a figure suddenly lunged from the shadows, shoving her with force. She fell to the ground with a startled yelp.

Ruelle, instinctively rushing to help her friend, was abruptly thrust against the cold stone wall. The impact jolted the breath from her lungs, leaving her gasping.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" Alanna's voice dripped with malice, her eyes gleaming like shards of ice in the dim glow. She loomed over Ruelle, her presence suffocating. Behind her, three Halfling lackeys stood with twisted smirks etched on their lips, their shadows flickering menacingly in the low light.

The vampiress's hand shot out, wrapping around Ruelle's neck with a vice-like grip. "How bold of you two to be walking about at this hour. Did you think I forgot?" 

"You cannot attack us in the corridors!" Hailey protested, her voice trembling with defiance. One of Alanna's lackeys responded by yanking her hair viciously, making Hailey cry out, "AH!"

"Don't tell me what I can and cannot do, you filthy Groundling. I've been observing you two, and you seem to not understand your place. Not an ounce of fear in your eyes," Alanna, the Elite vampiress, sneered.

"Please let us go. We just want to return to our rooms," Ruelle pleaded, her voice steady but edged with desperation.

Alanna laughed, a cold, mocking sound that echoed down the empty corridor. "You think you were too special to undress in front of the other first-year Groundlings in the forest? It's time to fix that."

"Let them do it here in the corridor, milady," suggested one of the mean girls, eager to please. "Start undressing or we'll do it for you."

"No!" Ruelle's voice reverberated through the desolate hall, but no help came. She struggled against her captors, and with a frantic movement, managed to break free. As she did, the vampiress snatched at her dress sleeve, ripping it with a harsh sound that echoed around them until it hung limply from her shoulder.

For a moment, the vampiresses stared at Ruelle in stunned silence before Alanna's laughter rang out again. "I thought you were preserving yourself for the prince with how modestly you acted, but you don't even qualify to be in the running," she mocked, eyes fixed on the scars that marred Ruelle's pale skin.

Ruelle felt exposed and vulnerable as she tried to cover herself, pressing her back against the unforgiving stone wall. Her eyes, previously defiant, now flickered with discomfort and a deep, unsettling shame. 

Without another warning, Alanna tore the fabric from the other side of Ruelle's shoulder, leaving her even more exposed. Simultaneously, the other vampiress ripped the front of Hailey's dress, sending the buttons flying across the corridor.

"For someone looking like this..." Alanna's voice drawled with smug satisfaction as her eyes fell on another scar. "You're quite ambitious to set your sights on the future Duke of Ravencroft."

"I don't have my eye on the duke," Ruelle said, her voice trembling, a mixture of fear and anger rippling through her.

"That's what everyone says, but it's what they secretly want," Alanna scoffed, rolling her eyes dismissively. "To become the wife of one of the men of high status here, to rise above their station." Her words dripped with contempt as she glared at the two young women, basking in their discomfort. "Now, let us finish what we started, shall we?" she taunted. "And as repayment, we'll throw your torn clothes out for you."

Suddenly, the jingle of chains echoed through the corridor, drawing everyone's attention. The sharp click of footsteps followed, revealing a young woman with a golden mask stepping into view. She held a chain that bound a young man walking silently behind her.

"Milady!" Alanna quickly bowed her head in respect, and the Halflings followed suit, their demeanour shifting instantly.

The masked Elite surveyed the scene with a detached air. With a sigh, she remarked, "Stop ruining the corridors. It is an eyesore."

"Of course, Lady Angelina," Alanna replied swiftly, her tone submissive. She turned to the Groundlings with a sneer. "Did you not hear her? Scram from here, now!"

Seizing the unexpected opportunity, Ruelle and Hailey hurriedly gathered themselves and fled to their rooms, relief mingling with their lingering fear.

When Ruelle entered her room, she found June seated at the edge of her bed, methodically filing her nails. The room was filled with the soft scratch of the emery board, yet her roommate didn't bother to glance up at her as she walked in. 

Eager to escape the weight of her gaze and conceal the evidence of her recent ordeal, Ruelle hastily grabbed her nightgown and slipped into the bathroom. There, away from prying eyes, the strain of the day began to unravel. Tears pooled in her eyes, threatening to spill as she tried to steady her trembling hands.

As Ruelle changed her clothes, a sudden gust of wind slipped through the window, extinguishing the flickering candlelight in an instant. The room plunged into shadow, and a chill raced down her spine. With trembling fingers, she hurriedly slipped into her nightgown and rushed out of the bathroom, seeking the comfort of the light beyond. 

The following day, as dawn broke, the Groundlings boarded the shared carriages, ready to journey back home for the weekend. In contrast, the Elites had their own personal carriages and coachmen waiting for them. 

As Ruelle approached her home, a sense of relief washed over her. She took a deep breath, thankful that Hailey had refrained from mentioning the scars before they left Sexton. 

Climbing out of the carriage, she reached the front steps of her house, the familiar creak of the wooden floor boards beneath her feet grounding her in this cherished place. She lifted her hand and lightly knocked on the door. 

The door finally swung open, revealing the very person that had left those scars on her—her father.