Claimed by the Prince of Darkness

Chapter 61: A Vampire’s Mercy

On the way, Lucian said nothing. His steps were calm, as if her humiliation held no effect on him. Yet the weight of his coat on her shoulders felt its own gravity.

Her thighs pressed tightly together as she walked, an unconscious attempt to keep any more blood from falling. Each step she carried against the polished floor felt heavier, as though it mirrored the shame, gleaming too brightly under the noon sun.

When they reached the door to his room, Ruelle watched as Lucian pushed it open and stepped inside. A hush of cool air slipped out, carrying the soft scent of old parchment and something distinctly that belonged to him.

"M–maybe I should return to the previous room," she murmured, voice small and uncertain.

"I did not know that room offered protection from vampiresses," he replied. There was no mockery in his words, only matter‑of‑fact observation.

Her pulse fluttered. Living with her stepmother and Caroline had afforded her enough knowledge about the situation. And Caroline was always in discomfort and complaining. Her sister, though younger, had bloomed two years ago.

"It will be messy. I—I don’t want to inconvenience you," her words almost turned into a whisper.

Lucian turned, expression unreadable. He remarked nonchalantly, "I am a vampire, not some mindless beast. Your blood tempting me should be the least of your worries right now."

Something in his tone was calm and unflinching, which reassured but also unsettled her at the same time.

Ruelle stepped in behind him, her steps hesitant.

She watched him walk to the tall, carved wooden divider at the far end of the room. Behind which was the bathtub nestled in shadow. He reached for the bronze tap and turned it on. Water gurgled into the bathtub, steam coiling upward like gentle tendrils.

"You should bathe. It will help," he murmured, his tone softening unconsciously.

Ruelle nodded wordlessly, walking to the other side of the divider. She stood there, silent and feeling small, guilt rising in her chest. If he hadn’t rescued her from the river, she would have still been that spectacle. Yet here she was, guided into privacy and comfort.

Lucian stepped away before saying, "I will be back in a couple of minutes." He left the room with the click of the door echoing in the hush he left behind.

Ruelle’s legs shook as she listened to the echo of his footsteps fade. With a trembling hand, she removed the coat from her shoulders and let it fall. Her clothing followed in a quiet heap. Naked, she slid into the warmth of the bath. The water soothed her—even as it blushed pink.

Far from Ruelle’s quiet sanctuary, Lucian walked through the infirmary wing that smelt of antiseptic, disinfectant and clean linen washing over him. White curtains stirred gently in the breeze from open windows.

"Didn’t expect to see you here, brother."

It was Dane who sat beside a cot where a pale human girl lay unconscious. Beside him stood Gemma Gilbert. "Hunt go sideways?" he asked in a light tone, while his eyes searched for injuries but found none.

"Brought back a deer," Lucian replied, his footsteps even.

Dane clapped softly, the corners of his mouth tugging upward. He praised, "That’s my brother. The pride of Slater House."

"What are you doing here?" Lucian asked, his eyes falling on the pale human.

"Found this one lying in a closed cupboard," Dane answered, his voice light, but his smile no longer reached his eyes. "She’d been there over a day. Missed assignments."

soft sigh and said, "If Dane hadn’t found her, we might have had another human body to send home in a casket. The Elites would have gotten a pass in the past, but we are already low on humans after the manor’s rogue frenzy

as he enquired, "Wasn’t Mortis talking about recruiting more?"

subjects, she then turned to Lucian and remarked, "Your brother

flickered his brother’s way, cool and reserved. His brother merely shrugged with his

to the modest little infirmary?" Gemma raised

the shelves as if searching for something. "Napkins,"

Dane responded, "Pretty sure

clarified, "I need

and Dane blinked with a mid-frozen

realisation. "Ah. Of course. It is in the second cupboard, third shelf. Let me get them—" She moved toward

A drawer squeaked, and he returned with folded cotton cloths which were

seems Ms. Belmont isn’t prepared for a lot

her first time," Lucian replied, curt but not unkind.

"She did look undernourished when she arrived. Thin wrists, tired eyes. Makes one wonder how

turn," Dane hummed, tapping

asked, not understanding

it quite clearly. He said nothing, didn’t even blink. Yet as he turned away, the corners of his mouth

the room, Ruelle had washed herself clean, instead of stewing in the dirt, as

worn cotton—and folded it tightly. A makeshift solution, just enough to keep herself from staining anything else. It would do for now, she thought to

to Caroline. The river had broadcasted to everyone in Sexton that her body had changed and she just wanted

moved to the tub again. She turned the faucet on to clean the bathtub to

"What are you doing?"

turned away from the bathtub, her eyes slightly wide as they met his cold, brooding gaze. She

"I’m cleaning the tub." So you can use the

not with annoyance. His lips pursed and he then said, "There’s no need to do

words

But then he exhaled quietly.

a slave yet, so stick to acting like the human you are," Lucian’s words were firm,

stared at his offered hand and then at the folded cotton layered cloths. When realisation dawned, she quickly snatched them, cheeks flaming brighter

need. In a situation where men often turned disturbed and ashamed to hold something that a woman wore during the time

stated with not a hint of hesitance and

behind the wooden divider, clutching the

thoughts. Lucian turned and opened the door to reveal a middle-aged Halfling maid carrying two plates of

Lucian spoke to Ruelle, sliding into his chair and offering her a look that was more command than invitation.

don’t think that would be right..."

gaze without blinking. He

the dining hall. Besides, unlike the Elites, the cook won’t prepare food for a Groundling who has missed her lunch." He swept his gaze across to the empty chair. "Sit. Eat. Rest. I don’t

she thought to herself. She lowered her gaze and nodded stiffly. She slid into the

meal almost finished. Across from her, Lucian had eaten no more than four bites. However, he occasionally brought the