Claimed by the Prince of Darkness

Chapter 160: A Collar for a Stray

Edward’s hand remained extended where Ruelle’s had been and his gaze briefly caught the flush in her cheeks. His expression faltered for a second, like a puppy with drooping ears. Then it snapped back and he glared at Lucian.

"How annoying," the young prince muttered. He huffed, trying to keep face, "At least I was the one she chose to spend the day with. I was the one who took her to the theatre for the first time."

Chosen? Edward had dragged her into it because of the deal. She started, "That’s a little—"

At the same time, Lucian’s arm tightened around her waist and her words caught in her throat.

"First," Lucian repeated, his gaze on Edward. His thumb shifted slightly against her waist. "I’ll make the rest mine."

Edward’s jaw tightened in irritation before he harrumphed, "I’m still first," and he stepped out of the room.

Ruelle watched Hermes follow Edward out, the prince not once looking back. She hoped he would be alright. That he would meet someone who could return his affections.

’The man you will end up with is a prince.’

For the past three days, those words had not left her.

She had thought about it over and over again. Because if it was Edward... then Lucian and she weren’t meant to be. Only to realise she had been wrong.

It had been Lucian all along.

Outside the corridor, Edward walked with hurried footsteps so that he could find a corner and mope alone. But his attendant walked right behind him, and this had the prince stop and turn, glaring at his attendant. He snapped,

"Why are you following me? I am fine. You should stay with my father as you seem more loyal to him than me when you are my attendant. You didn’t even tell me about the Slaters."

Hermes could tell the young prince was hurt and he offered a bow. He replied,

"Pardon me, Your Highness. When you the prince weren’t aware, how would I?"

"I wouldn’t know because I wasn’t living in the castle in the beginning. But you—well whatever. Don’t follow me," Edward said, but he didn’t make an attempt to go too far as he sat down at one of the benches.

followed, noticing the prince go quiet as he stared at the forest ahead of them. The attendant didn’t utter a word and only

muttered, and he then glanced at Hermes shoes, "Does it

Your Highness," Hermes replied, looking

unless you feel I am not competent enough to

"Yes, Your Highness."

the bell rang, leaving an echo

King Septimus rose from his

faint smile and he hummed, "Quite a night, wasn’t it? I believe I shall retire for the night. There is a bid to look forward to, after all.

hold loosened at last, and she noticed the king

done...if I had burned the parchment? After all... when there is more than one interest, the value tends to rise," he chuckled

bowed her head, her gaze lowered just enough to catch the king’s shoes leaving

and she

the sound of their footsteps. The lanterns along the walls burned dimly, some wicks burning and ready to

two steps

forward without pause and he didn’t slow down. He walked ahead, his back to

he...angry? The thought

lips together, her teeth catching against the inside as she gnawed lightly. Her lips

come as she saw the distance grow

to do with King Septimus’ words before he left? What was this treaty they spoke about?

still with lack of light and the only light came from

about... the treaty?" She took another step into the room, and said, "About it

she knew, her back hit the door, the impact stealing the breath from her lungs. A soft gasp escaped her which never fully formed as it was swallowed

instinctively, pressing against his chest. But his hand moved faster than her thoughts. One moment her wrists were free, the next second both delicate bones were trapped in the iron grip of his single hand. He pressed them against the door

nothing gentle in the way he kissed her. His lips moved against hers with a fervour as if he had

free hand came to her jaw, tracing the delicate curve before his thumb paused beneath her

finger against her lips that made her tremble. With her

me, Ruelle," Lucian’s voice was low, holding a quiet rasp of sweetness that brushed her

if under his spell,