Claimed by the Prince of Darkness

When the curtains finally closed upon the half-undressed performers, Ruelle's cheeks still burned. The performers had left little to the imagination, something she hadn't been educated about in the past.

"Shall we leave? Or do you want to sit for the next one?" Lucian asked in a calm voice, while Ruelle didn't trust her voice to utter a word.

"Leave," she swallowed, her eyes meeting his only for a second before she looked away.

When they stepped out into the corridor, Ruelle noticed that only a handful of patrons were leaving. Most gallery doors remained firmly shut, as though the performance had merely encouraged its audience to continue what had begun upon the stage.

The path was lit with fewer flames than when they had entered, as if to preserve the mood. When they finally reached the path to the stairs down, Ruelle's eyes fell on Dane and for a moment it looked like he was carrying a pile of coats over his shoulder. But the closer he moved, her eyebrows furrowed before her eyes widened.

"What happened to Brother Lachlan?" Ruelle asked, the warmth lingering in her cheeks slowly beginning to fade.

Her eyes settled on her cousin, who was completely limp over Dane's shoulder now with her cousin's arms hanging behind. The entire scene made him resemble nothing more than a sack of potatoes being carried home. She moved closer to make sure he was still breathing and heard Dane chuckle.

"He is fine," Dane replied, catching the look on her face before it could deepen. A pleasant smile rested upon his lips. "He found the wine to be rather persuasive and a better company than what was shown on the stage."

"Oh..." Ruelle remembered Lucian's warning. Even now, there remained a faint, pleasant haze in the back of her mind, though it had never grown strong enough to knock her out.

She had been worried about facing him. After all, she was the one who suggested he attend it with everyone. If the performance had truly overwhelmed him to this extent, she wasn't sure how she was supposed to face him once he woke.

Perhaps... it would be better if she quietly slipped away and returned to the Slaters' Mansion without meeting anyone right now. The mere thought of facing them made her embarrassed.

Before they could leave, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed softly through the corridor.

A woman appeared from the opposite end. She was a vampiress dressed in a deep green gown that hugged her figure elegantly, while emerald earrings caught what little candlelight remained in the dim corridor. The moment her eyes landed on the Slater brothers, and then Ruelle standing beside him, a knowing smile slowly curved upon her lips.

"Good evening, and congratulations on your engagement," she said, offering a graceful bow. Her gaze lingered on Ruelle for a heartbeat longer than was comfortable before returning to Lucian. "To think Lucian Slater has finally chosen a lady and such a beautiful one at that. I shall be sure to send a gift worthy of the occasion."

"That is thoughtful of you, Lady Monroe," Lucian's voice stayed same. His arm settled more firmly around Ruelle's waist before he bowed his head ever so slightly. "My fiancee is tired. Excuse us."

Without waiting for another response, he guided Ruelle past the vampiress, his pace never slowing. Only after Ruelle and Lucian had turned the corner and the theatre grew brighter once more did Ruelle ask,

"Who was she?"

"She is the daughter of Council Minister Andrew Monroe." As they continued walking towards the entrance, he added, "The Monroe family is older than ours. They have remained one of the kingdom's pillars for generations."

"A good family?" Ruelle asked, her thoughts still carrying the pleasant haze left behind by the wine.

Lucian was silent for a brief moment and he then answered, "Almost grey. It would be best if you kept your distance from Lady Monroe in the future. She hosts private soirees."

Ruelle looked curious about it, and he continued, "The kind attended by people whose interests extend well beyond what you witnessed on the stage tonight. And it doesn't matter if a person is married or not."

Ruelle's cheeks immediately warmed again. "Oh..."

Back in the corridor, Lady Monroe watched the couple disappear from sight before turning her attention to the only Slater who remained.

"It has been quite some time since you last accepted one of my invitations. People have been asking after you," she remarked, her smile never wavering.

"Wedding preparations have a way of stealing one's time. Busy, busy," Dane replied lazily, shifting Lachlan's weight on his shoulder with surprising ease.

Lady Monroe's laughter came softly. She remarked, "You make it sound as though you are the groom."

"Someone has to make sure my little brother reaches the altar."

The vampiress smiled knowingly, tiling her head, she said, "You've always been terribly devoted to him. You never did allow us to extend an invitation to him, when women were eager to meet him."

"You wound me, Lady Monroe. Was my company truly that disappointing?" Dane rested a hand against his chest, though his smile only widened.

"Hardly," the woman responded, and her eyes lingered on him. "But I have learnt that one Slater is considerably more difficult to persuade than the other."

For a brief moment, neither of them spoke. Lady Monroe's gaze slowly drifted towards the unconscious human resting over Dane's shoulder. Curiosity fell over her expression on noticing the flushed face over the pale skin and brown, straight hair dangling. She questioned,

"And who might this be?"

"A guest," Dane responded, noticing the vampiress turning more intrigued.

"How interesting," her smile deepened as her eyes didn't hide the curiosity she carried about the human. She said, "You should bring him with you after the wedding. He is quite the looker even if smaller built."

Lady Monroe stepped closer, her hand slowly reaching towards Lachlan's face. But before her fingertips could brush his skin, Dane caught her wrist. The smile on his lips never disappeared.

"I wouldn't."

Lady Monroe lowered her eyes to where his hand held her wrist. One corner of her lips pulled and she replied,

"How unusual. You have no issue with others touching your playthings, but it seems your guest is far more precious."

Dane merely smiled. He clarified, "That was with their consent. It would be rude to do anything without his permission. I should go now. Lovely talking to you, Lady Monroe," he offered a slight bow and walked away from there.

Outside the theatre, Claude brought the Slaters' carriage around and stood patiently beside it with the door held open. Ruelle got in first and by then Dane had arrived, who helped settle her unconscious cousin inside. Lucian followed soon after, while Dane chose to accompany them, leaving the carriage he had arrived in for Angelina, who had yet to leave the theatre.

Before long, the carriage rolled away from the theatre.

The rhythmic clatter of the wheels against the road and the steady beat of the horses' hooves filled the nightly silence. Outside, the forest slipped past the windows in darkness, interrupted only by the occasional light from the lanterns hanging on the carriage.

After some time, the carriage suddenly came to a halt.

Ruelle looked up from where she sat beside Lucian, her brows knitting together. They had not travelled nearly far enough to have reached the Slaters' Mansion.

"What happened, Claude?" Dane asked, already turning towards the window.

Claude leaned slightly from his seat before answering, "It appears the carriage carrying Master Sawyer and His Highness has broken down." He then raised his voice towards the coachman standing beside the stranded carriage. "What happened?"

By then, Lucian had already stepped down, followed by Dane and Ruelle. The cool night air greeted them as they made their way towards the stranded carriage. The front wheel had split apart, while the horses were missing.

Lucian's gaze instinctively shifted to his older brother and Dane chuckled.

"Brother, to think I have earned such confidence," Dane hummed, clicking his tongue, and Lucian only stared at him. They both had the habit of meddling with carriages and it was a subtle way to handle things.

Ruelle's eyes moved between the two brothers before settling on Dane. She asked, "How many times have you done something like this to be suspected?"

Dane appeared to consider the question, before he answered, "Just a few times. When it is necessary. For instance, when your stepmother and sister doubted you were a witch."

"That was rather helpful," Ruelle admitted, though she couldn't help adding, "Even if it was somewhat dangerous."

"Right," the smile on Dane's lips deepened ever so slightly.

The coachman lowered his head apologetically.

"The wheel struck a stone hidden beneath the road, sire. It was covered with snow and I failed to notice it in time. After His Highness departed, I managed to find the missing carriage bolt and repaired the wheel, but it appears the wheel had weakened."

The corners of Dane's lips curved ever so slightly. He said, "To think an honest man would be doubted. Life has a peculiar sense of humour, doesn't it?"

The coachman looked at him with sympathy and quickly nodded as if those words were for him. He agreed, "It does, Master Dane."

"But where is everyone?" Ruelle asked.

"His Highness, Master Sawyer and the young ladies rode into the town, milady," the coachman replied with another respectful bow.

He hesitated for the briefest moment.

As a halfling, his hearing had been keen enough to catch the frightened screams that had echoed through the forest earlier. He still had little idea what had taken place, only that His Highness had, at one point, drawn a silver pistol before ordering him not to speak of it. Remembering the prince's instructions, the coachman quietly swallowed the rest of the story.

Dane glanced towards the road leading into the town and he murmured, "Perhaps they discovered what the theatre truly had to offer."

Ruelle turned to look in the other direction. Lucian, however, paid the remark no attention. His gaze swept across the dark forest before returning to the coachman. He then instructed,

"Ride with us. We'll send someone back for the carriage later."

"Yes, sire."

Far from the forest, the horses thundered into the neighbouring town before finally coming to a halt outside the physician's residence. Everyone dismounted in haste, while Caroline could barely steady herself as Hailey helped her down from the horse.

"How are you feeling, Caroline?" Sawyer asked the human, whose breath grew shallower with every passing moment, the thought of turning into an infected vampire began to haunt her.

"Am I going to die?" Caroline asked him.

Sawyer gave a nod, "Yes. People don't take kindly to corrupted vampires. Lucian just turned out lucky, but the rest? Immediate death. Can you imagine the entire society wanting you dead?"

Hailey didn't interrupt them, as she couldn't help being worried about how the evening had turned out to be.

Edward went ahead and knocked on the door. He demanded, "Open it."

"If you are a patient," came an irritated voice from the other side of the closed door, "the physician will see you tomorrow. As you can plainly read on the notice outside, the working hours are—"

BANG! The physician let out a startled cry as the bullet tore through the wooden sign hanging beside the door, sending splinters scattering across the porch. The door flew open almost immediately and the physician demanded,

"What do you think you are doing?!"

Edward stood on the doorstep, lowering the silver pistol with an impatient expression. "Now there is no sign," he said flatly.

When the physician realised it was the prince, he quickly lowered his head and greeted, "Y-Your Highness..."

"Forgive the introduction," Sawyer said pleasantly, stepping forward before Edward could speak again. "We find ourselves in rather unfortunate circumstances," saying it, he turned towards Caroline. "She was bit by a corrupted vampire and—"

Just those words were enough for the physician to stiffen and look at Caroline with wariness and disdain. As if she were an untouchable. And Caroline couldn't help but feel as if a rock had been tied around her stomach that suddenly weighed it down.

"—if you would be so kind as to examine our patient," Sawyer finished speaking.

"What are you hesitating for?" Edward questioned raising his gun, which was enough for the physician to respond,

"Please bring her inside."

Caroline was led towards one of the adjoining rooms, but before she crossed the doorway, she suddenly reached back and caught hold of Hailey's hand. Her grip was surprisingly tight and she whispered,

"Please, come with me..." her trembling eyes met Hailey's.

Hailey looked at the hand wrapped around hers before lifting her gaze to Caroline's face. She then said, "I have something I need to talk to the two men about." She said, "We will be right here."

Caroline looked like she was about to cry as she stepped inside the room. If it were Ruelle... she would have come with her. The physician quickly lit another oil lamp before gesturing towards the examination bed. He instructed to her,

"Lie on your front and try not to move."

Caroline lay on her front while the physician adjusted the magnifying glass over the wound. The cold tips of the forceps pressed against the wounds before a sharp sting made her tense. Each one felt as though a thorn were being pulled from deep beneath her skin.

She noticed a grim expression on the physician's face and how he seemed at loss of words. He began,

"The wound you have—"

"No!" Caroline exclaimed, squeezing her eyes shut. "I don't want to hear it!"

The physician blinked. "But, milady—"

"I cannot believe I am going to die this young!" Caroline cried, her voice breaking into sobs. "As though my life hasn't been miserable enough already. Now I am being sent straight to my death!"

The physician opened his mouth once more.

"I don't want to know!" she wailed, burying her face into the pillow.

The physician stared at the back of her head for a long moment. Seeing little point in arguing with someone determined to mourn herself before hearing the diagnosis, he quietly picked up the tray and stepped out of the room. The moment he entered the hall, Hailey hurried over to him.

"How much time does she have before the infection spreads?" she asked, unable to hide the worry in her voice.

Edward folded his arms. He clicked his tongue and said, "An hour, perhaps? Maybe less. We should probably begin thinking about funeral arrangements."

"Unlike you, I would still like to attend the wedding. "Especially being the bridesmaid," Hailey huffed, staring at the prince.

"How audacious of you to speak to me in such a tone," Edward looked her up and down. "Of course, I want to attend the wedding. If I were a woman, you would not be the bridesmaid, Hailey. It would go to me."

"Your Highness, that role immediately goes to me. Ruelle and I have been friends for longer than you have known her," Hailey said, rolling her eyes and being firm on her stand.

Edward huffed and narrowed his eyes. He replied, "You think relationships and closeness are measured through time? How foolish. This is why I should have been the best man for Ruelle."

In the gap, Sawyer ignored the two of them and asked the physician, "You were saying?"

"The young miss isn't dying," the physician finally said, cutting through the commotion. Edward and Hailey turned to look at him at the same time. The man lifted the tray in his hand, revealing several tiny wooden splinters stained with blood. He explained, "It doesn't appear to be a corrupted vampire's bite at all. She most likely scraped her back against a tree. I am surprised she didn't notice. The bark splintered and several pieces became lodged in the wound, making it resemble bite marks."

Edward stared at the tray and he muttered, "That's it?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

For a moment, silence settled over the hall. Hailey blinked several times before asking, "Then... why has she turned so pale? She looked as though she were about to faint."

The physician looked towards the closed door where Caroline's sobs continued to drift through the wood. With a weary sigh, he replied, "I imagine the fright has done more harm than the wound itself. I tried explaining it to her, but she refused to let me finish a sentence."

Another muffled sob escaped from inside the room. "I don't want to die!"

The physician looked helplessly back at them and said, "As you can see."

Hailey pressed her lips together to stop herself from laughing. She offered the physician an apologetic smile and said,

"That's alright, sir. I'll tell her." Offering a polite bow, she added, "We sincerely apologise for disturbing you at this hour of the night."

Hailey helped Caroline step out of the room and then out of the place, and the physician didn't delay in closing the door and blowing the lanterns out before he would be forced to work again.

"What am I going to do now?" Caroline dabbed her handkerchief on her cheek. "I am going to be pelted by stones."

Hailey shook her head and began, "Relax, you—" Suddenly Edward kicked her foot and she winced, taking a step back only for her back to hit Sawyer.

"Now you know how it feels to be an outcast?" Edward asked her. "Of how you see us vampires?"

"I—I am sorry... I didn't know," Caroline sobbed with tears streaming down her cheeks.

Something seemed to strike in Hailey's mind and she said,

"Caroline," Hailey said, standing next to the horse wearing a solemn look. "The physician said the corruption is spreading. But if you spend whatever time you have left doing some good instead of making everyone else's lives miserable, perhaps you'll be saved," she let out a tired sigh.

"We should head back before Ruelle worries," Edward said, swinging up onto his own horse. The four of them soon left the town, while the light in the lanterns there had begun to grow cold.

Back on the forest road, the Slaters' carriage rolled on in silence, the events of the theatre pressing on each of them differently.

By the time they returned to the Slaters' Mansion, the courtyard had fallen quiet beneath the night sky. Claude pulled on the reins, bringing the carriage to a smooth stop before the front entrance. The door was opened, and everyone stepped out one after another.

Ruelle's eyes instinctively fell on her cousin. Lachlan remained fast asleep where he sat, his head resting awkwardly against the cushioned seat. Before she could suggest helping him, Dane spoke.

"Don't worry about your cousin," he said, already moving to lift Lachlan onto his shoulder. "I'll see him back to his room."

Ruelle hesitated for a moment before giving a small nod. She replied, "Thank you, Brother Dane. That is very kind of you."

Dane offered her a smile. Ruelle returned it with a grateful nod before stepping inside beside Lucian.

When they almost reached the room, hurried footsteps were heard approaching from behind. Ruelle paused and she caught Peyton appearing before them. The vampiress offered a polite bow and then informed,

"It is as you suspected. The news about Miss Ruelle being a witch has begun to spread. From what I gathered, it started from towns located near the west coast."

"Have you sent out a search party?" Lucian asked the vampiress, who gave him a nod.

"Twenty men were deployed for it, but there has been no sign of the man yet," Peyton wore a grim expression.

"If Ezekiel is going to shift to look like the next person. It is impossible to find him," Ruelle frowned in thought.

Silence settled over the corridor for a brief moment before Lucian finally spoke.

"There is a flower called milfoil. Its pollen irritates halflings. Have the council collect it. Issue an order for every halfling to be accounted for. While doing so, distribute food rations to every household." He paused only briefly before continuing, "Afterwards, announce that the pollen was mistakenly mixed into the rations. Inform the public that for every person showing symptoms of rashes, their life is at risk and that the antidote is being distributed at the courthouse."

"What if he goes for another witch to solve it?" Ruelle asked because Ezekiel had done it once and he would do it again.

"Then it is time to find the witches living amongst us and keep eye on them," Lucian answered with his lips setting in a thin line. "It is one way to start rather than wait for him to pick another voodoo doll. Avoiding the antidote narrows our search."

Ruelle gave him a nod.

"I will relay the message to the Elder Minister. We will make sure to catch him," Peyton replied, bowing her head and leaving them.

It was good to see so many people working on trying to catch one person. She wished there was a way she could stop Ezekiel. But would that mean tapping into the darker side of the magic which would eat her soul?

The thought trailed her the rest of the way down the corridor. Lucian had already set things in motion, and worrying herself sick over it in the hallway would help no one. Still, the unease didn't leave so much as fold itself quietly into the back of her mind, tucked beneath the lingering warmth of the wine and the theatre.

"Where did you go?"

Ruelle blinked before she tried to smile, and replied, "Nowhere. I'm here."

Lucian stared at her, his hand reaching out to Ruelle's hand and uncurling it, which she didn't realise had turned white. "Don't think about him."

Ruelle pursed her lips before her voice faltered, "I don't want you to get hurt because of me."

"I won't. He cannot touch me," Lucian assured her. "I was fated to live with you, I won't take anything less."

When Ruelle arrived at their room, she made her way to the closet, while Lucian walked to the other side of the room. The room was quiet compared to the noise of the theatre, and she could hear her own heartbeat.

She took her own sweet time to remove the choker that was around her neck as if it were stuck even though it was perfectly fine. Her skin still felt flushed, the ghost of the wine and the vivid, shameless images on the stage echoing behind her eyelids.

Across the room, Lucian had already shed his clothes, tossing them aside onto a chair.

A soft splash of water drew Ruelle's eyes toward the far corner of the chamber, where a wide stone tub overflowed with fragrant, steaming water.

Lucian stepped into the bath, the warm water swirling around his waist as he sat back against the smooth stone, resting his long arms along the rim. His dark hair fell loosely, clinging damply to his pale skin and he pushed it back with his fingers. He had his eyes closed as he threw his head back.

"Ruelle," Lucian's voice came, effortlessly drawing her attention back to him.

Ruelle froze, the choker dropping from her hand but thankfully into the drawer. She swallowed before attempting a serene smile. "Yes? Is... is the water comfortable?"

Lucian didn't open his eyes right away. The corner of his mouth merely twitched. He answered, "Not quite. You're standing all the way over there." He finally opened his eyes, his dark red gaze locking onto Ruelle with an intensity that made the room feel suddenly smaller.

"I was just removing the choker. I should change to..." Ruelle murmured.

Lucian hummed softly. "You have been very quiet. Did the play displease you?"

Ruelle, who was closing the drawer, without pulling her hand away, mistakenly closed it along with it and she winced. She uttered, "No—it didn't displease me. The actors were very talented. The music was grand."

Lucian leaned his head back against the edge, watching Ruelle through his lashes with his head tilted back. A single drop of water trailed down his throat, slipping over his collarbone and her eyes caught it before he asked, "Is that what caught your attention? The music?"

Ruelle's face flushed with heat creeping up her neck.

"Come here," the command was soft, almost a request, yet wrapped in that undeniable weight Lucian always carried.

Ruelle hesitated, her heart hammering against her ribs. Step by cautious step, she crossed the stone floor until she stood a few feet from the edge of the bath.

"What part of the music did you like?" Lucian inquired, and it was hard to not begin to crumble under his piercing gaze and her lashes fluttered.

"It was the piano… and some parts of the violin," Ruelle tried to keep her thoughts straight. The lingering embarrassment, the awkwardness, the overwhelming want that had been building inside her since they had left the theatre had pushed forward.

Just the sight of Lucian alone dripping in water was enough to heat her blood. The man put every performer tonight to shame, she thought to herself.

"The water is warm. You don't have to stand there carrying all that heat alone," Lucian whispered, his voice a dark, hypnotic hum. She saw him raise his wet fingers towards her with that half-lidded look. "Won't you join me?"