Claimed by the Prince of Darkness

Chapter 67: A strange companion

"W–we should leave…" one of the Halflings muttered, fear creeping into the woman's voice.

"What about Brienna?!" The second one shot back, her tone sharpened with panic. Her eyes darted toward the trees where their companion had vanished, dragged into the dark. "We can't just abandon her."

Ruelle remained where she was in shock. She had seen it too close. The wolf's fangs had sunk deep into the Halfling's leg, blood spilling under the weak light before she was torn away into the treeline. Her shrieks had already gone silent.

Even Alanna's face had turned pale. She hadn't expected the enormous and feral beast, prowling in Sexton's shadowed woods.

"I don't want to get bitten by that thing! What do you think, Al—" one Halfling's words were interrupted at the sound of paws thudded against wet earth, fast and closing the distance.

Without a word, Alanna bolted first. She didn't so much as glance at her underlings, abandoning them to the dark as if they were nothing more than scraps of bait.

The adrenaline in Ruelle's veins rushed. She forced her body to stand, her limbs trembling with the ache of torn muscle and the sting of fresh wounds. The raindrops streaked across her cheeks as she started to run.

"AHHHH!!!" another Halfling screamed, who got bit by the wolf. The other Halfling scrambled quicker, such that Ruelle, Alanna and the Halfling scattered in three different directions.

Ruelle ran through the forest, not knowing where exactly she was headed. The raised roots on the ground felt nothing less than traps beneath her feet. Her arm throbbed where the Halfling's claw had cut her, blood soaking her sleeve.

Don't stop. Don't stop.

She was sure that the soles of her shoes were going to tear for good today!

As the rain fell, she blinked furiously, straining to see, but the forest was a maze. For one dizzying moment she thought she was alone—until the growl ripped through the dark again, closer this time.

Her legs wobbled, her body threatening to fold, but she pushed harder.

Should she climb the tree? Ruelle asked herself, not knowing if wolves knew how to climb one. Had the others escaped already? Was she the only one still trapped in this nightmare?

"So this is what they mean—out of the pan, into the fire?" Ruelle's breath came ragged, and her footsteps slowed down when she couldn't find the edge of the forest.

The rain finally stopped, leaving the forest quiet except for the drops of water dripping from the branches. Water dripped from Ruelle's lashes, strands of hair plastered to her face, her clothes clinging heavy against her skin. Each step sank into the mushy ground, her shoes squelching as if announcing her presence to whatever still prowled in the dark.

Ruelle wanted to get back to her room. Back to light, to walls, to anything but this endless nightmare of trees.

But suddenly a sharp snap was heard not too far behind her and she froze.

Slowly, she turned, and her eyes met with a pair of golden eyes emerging from the bushes. They were bright and unblinking, pinning her in place like nails.

turning her

and the wolf stared at one another. She held her breath, as if even the smallest exhale might break the fragile

statue, the wolf would let her go, she thought to

back on the wet ground.

moment,

the raw violence of thunder, paws hammering against the ground, its snarl tearing through the silence. Ruelle's arms jerked up on instinct, useless against the brute force that slammed into her. The impact had her down on the wet

and her vision

at first. Her hand twitched sideways, fingers brushing something jagged and wet—a stone. The wolf's snarl deepened instantly, fangs gleaming inches away from her face. The sound rattled her so much that she let go of the stone. Her

wolf drew closer, and she squeezed her eyes shut, as though the darkness could shield her from the pain that was about to come. Its muzzle dragged along

her ribs so violently she

going

on her chest lift. The wolf was still there. Heavy, looming, its hot breath rolling

lashes quivered as she slowly opened

into her throat. Instead, a quiet whimper brushed past her ear. The sound

on her throat anymore. The next second, its tongue swept across her cheek, coarse and warm. She flinched, but the wolf only shifted lower, sitting on her with its front paws on her

quickly

to be a stone. She didn't dare to move. She hoped the wolf would grow bored and would leave her alone. But the question was for

calm herself—one, two, three, steady—but somewhere after sixty her numbers blurred. Had

still the wolf sat

saving

weren't dripping cold against her skin, she would have drifted off in the forest's silence. Her body begged

movement broke something. The wolf stirred and rose, stepping on the ground. The sudden absence of its weight was so startling that Ruelle sucked in a ragged gasp—air flooding her

wolf's head whipped around, a guttural growl rumbling deep in

dart out from the shadows. The tiny creature bolted across the clearing, vanishing into the wet

breathing had barely steadied when the wolf looked back. Not

carefully tried to pull her hand back, only for the wolf to nudge it, pressing her trembling fingers against its

me to pat

small howl rose from the wolf's throat. Ruelle's hand moved on its own, scratching lightly between its damp ears. To her

you…?" She whispered, staring at the creature

still with its nose lifted toward the dripping branches as it enjoyed

Ruelle pulled her hand back to her side and said,

know which direction to take. Her eyes lifted to the moon, faint and silver through the tangle of branches. She picked a direction at random, hoping

something tugged on her dress. The wolf's muzzle was

to stay?" Ruelle asked, her

moment, the wolf's ears straightened, as though it considered the idea. Then came a low rumble deep in its chest. Its golden

its silver-black fur as it circled behind her. A nudge at her back, the press of its cold, damp