Claimed by the Prince of Darkness
Chapter 60: When Eyes Turned to Her

Chapter 60: When Eyes Turned to Her

She hadn’t hurt herself. At least, not enough to bleed like this. Nor had she crushed some fish under her feet. Perhaps the riverbed beneath her stirred something murky? Ruelle’s thoughts flickered wildly, grasping at logic, but the deeper side of her mind told her it was something else.

Most of the other women began inching away. Not with panic, but with a quiet unease, skirts gathered in hands, eyes darting to the water as if it might touch them. A ripple of separation formed, and Ruelle stood at its centre.

The blood oozed a metallic scent into the air, primarily attracting the attention of the Halflings. They stepped closer to the bank, their predatory instincts flickering in their eyes.

A loud voice spoke through the hush.

"Well, well, well. How thoughtful—you’ve turned the river into your personal washbasin. Some of us were actually enjoying it," Alanna remarked mockingly, confirming the suspicion.

The vampiress had returned from the hunt after falling flat on her face thanks to the horse that threw her on the ground. But people didn’t need to know that. She instead stood proudly, giving a disdainful look at the lowly human. "How unpleasant."

The truth dawned on Ruelle. It was her time. One that marked the irreversible shift into womanhood.

And now, under the scrutiny of dozens of eyes, she wished nothing more than to disappear beneath the surface of the water and let the river swallow her whole. She couldn’t move. Her hands gripped the sides of her skirt, knuckles pale, heart pounding in her throat.

"How mortifying," someone murmured with judgement. "She must be dim-witted not to keep track of her own time. Why step into the water at all?"

"Perhaps she wanted the attention," stated a Halfling vampiress, who was more than pleased to drag Ruelle through dirt.

The men who had been stealing glances at Ruelle earlier, thinking about introducing themselves, now wore flushed faces of awkward embarrassment. Even Kevin, drenched and carefree moments ago, now appeared frozen—jaw slack, eyes wide.

Hailey noticed how everyone around them behaved. She was just about to step forward, to reach out to her friend, when a sharp splash of water cut through the silence.

Ruelle flinched but didn’t look. She didn’t want to risk seeing people leave the river as if she were spreading a contagious illness. For the briefest second, her eyes squeezed shut. Then came the sound of water shifting, lapping softly. A whisper of movement grew nearer until the shadow of a figure loomed above her.

Ezekiel, she thought. He must have returned. Perhaps to offer her a quiet escape, to spare her from the embarrassment. However, when she finally lifted her gaze, she realised it wasn’t him.

The man before her had raven-black hair and eyes the colour of aged wine, shadowed and unreadable, locking with hers that made her breath falter.

Lucian, her mind whispered his name.

Then, in one fluid motion, he stepped forward and draped the coat over her shoulders. The wool grazed her bare elbow, startling her with its warmth. It carried the scent of old smoke, wild pine, and the crispness of a mountain wind—clean, cool, and earthy.

Lucian’s voice broke through, low and clipped, "Can you walk?"

Unable to speak with her words lodged in her throat, she barely nodded.

Without another word, his black-gloved hand closed firmly over her arm, but not cruelly. He pulled her from the water, the cold cling of her soaked dress reminding her of what had happened.

Around them, a hush fell over the crowd. Whispers slithered through the onlookers. Their expressions were a mixture of shock and awe. Alanna’s jaw clenched. Her fingers curled at her sides, nails nearly pressing into her palm. Her lip lifted in a sneer, and her flared nostrils quivered with restrained outrage. Why was he rescuing her?! She was a lowly, worthless human. He didn’t have to involve himself with that kind!

Ruelle’s heart thudded erratically, each step sloshing with water that clung cold and heavy to her skin. She could feel Lucian’s presence beside her was silent and unyielding. His gloved hand still firm on her arm, anchoring her as the ground grew firmer beneath her feet.

Once they reached the bank, he didn’t release her arm. Instead, he led her towards his horse. Her legs felt unsteady right now, but she pressed into each step—fear, mortification, and something deep in her chest urging her to follow him.

She felt Lucian stop beside the animal, the scent of the saddle’s leather mingling with the chill in the air. His hand left her arm gently, but she still felt the imprint it left behind.

The horse let out a short breath and shifted its weight, hooves scuffing against the dirt. Its saddle creaked softly. She hesitated, her wet dress trailing behind her, until his shadow fell over her again. His gaze flicked to hers—brooding, unreadable, but undeniably attentive.

"Lucian!" Alanna’s voice echoed, unable to resist not voicing out her opinions. "You don’t need to lower yourself for a human like her. It is dirty blood."

Ruelle stiffened, heat prickling beneath her skin at Alanna’s words.

Lucian’s dark gaze swung to Alanna, and his tone remained calm as he spoke, "Perhaps you should brush the mud from your skirt—after your fall—before lecturing others on cleanliness."

Gasps and whispers rumbled around them. Was Lucian defending a Groundling?

Alanna pursed her lips before saying, "But she with that old—"

"As a senior at Sexton, I’d expect you to know it’s natural," his voice dropped to an icy murmur. "Unless, of course, you’ve never experienced it. Or can’t."

Hearing that, Alanna’s scorn drained leaving her cheeks bright scarlet. A few of the watching students stifled smiles. Some even chuckled softly under their breath.

Ruelle then saw Lucian offer her his gloved hand. Hesitantly she placed her hand in his. A tremor of fear and trust passed through her. He lifted her with ease and set her on the horse before swinging into his own saddle. Soon he nudged the horse forward, leading her away from there.

The moment they vanished from view, the forest buzzed back. One of them said, "I thought Lucian despised humans," someone whispered, barely containing their confusion.

"Maybe he’s trying to raise his grade in Inter-Species Conduct," a Halfling offered with a dry chuckle.

Hailey quickly made her way to Kevin, who looked more embarrassed than Ruelle as if he were the one who had bled in the river. His face was pale, mouth parted like he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words.

"Kevin," Hailey whispered, grabbing his sleeve, "we should head back."

"Uh—okay," Kevin muttered, still frozen, scratching the back of his neck like it might help him process what had just happened. Hailey rolled her eyes and tugged him along before thinking, men.

Gwendolyn, who had once hired Ruelle to work for her and who now stood next to Alanna remarked, "Well, I think Lucian prefers to help a human. Not you."

"Don’t be absurd. Lucian was merely being noble," Alanna said, her smile tightened like a thread about to snap. "Someone had to drag her out before she infected the rest of us."

Far from the murmurs of the forest and the lingering eyes, the familiar silhouette of Sexton Academy emerged through the trees. The horse’s hooves clopped onto the gravel of the main grounds, slower now, more measured.

Lucian tugged the reins and brought the horse to a halt near one of the side entrances. He dismounted first, landing with the effortless grace that came naturally to him. Then, without a word, he turned to Ruelle. He extended his hand, and she accepted it, her fingers brushing against his gloved palm as he helped her down.

Though she had ridden the entire way pressed against his back, now, with the eyes of no one upon them, she couldn’t meet his gaze. She stared at the ground she stood on, watching droplets fall, which had a touch of pink about them.

Lucian followed her gaze.

"It isn’t the first time Sexton’s floors have seen blood," Lucian stated, his voice low and matter-of-fact. "And it won’t be the last. I will have someone clean the floor," he added.

Ruelle clutched the coat tighter around herself and gave the faintest nod.

Why had he helped her?

And why, of all people, did it have to be him?

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