Claimed by the Prince of Darkness-Chapter 49: When Chaos steps in

Every flicker of torchlight seemed to sharpen the planes of Lucian’s face, casting shadows that deepened the glint of red in his eyes. His irritation simmered beneath the surface, quiet but undeniably present.

"Lucian," Anthony stammered, his earlier confidence unraveling like loose threads. His hand twitched at his side—a small betrayal of his unease. "I didn’t realise you were acquainted with the lady. I meant no disrespect."

"Leave," Lucian commanded. The single word carried an authority, the kind that brooked no argument. His lips barely moved, but the weight of his presence seemed to deepen the dimness around them.

Ruelle’s breath hitched as she watched Anthony hesitate. The vampire’s earlier bravado dissolved entirely, leaving him pale. With a shallow bow, the person retreated into the ballroom. This was her chance, Ruelle thought, easing a step back. If she could just—

"Did I tell you to leave?"

The words cut through the air like a whip, stopping her mid-step. Her shoulders stiffened, and she forced herself to turn, meeting Lucian’s intense gaze.

"You have outdone yourself, Belmont," Lucian drawled, his tone deceptively casual. Each syllable was a razor, his sarcasm laced with an undercurrent of disapproval. "What is this? An excursion? Or have you decided that failure isn’t such a heavy burden after all?"

She winced inwardly at his words. But she lifted her chin, trying to summon her composure and began, "I wasn’t—"

"Save it," Lucian interrupted, his voice sharp enough to halt her excuses in their tracks. He stepped closer, his movements predatory, like a cat toying with its prey. "Tell me, Belmont," he continued, his voice lowering to something far more dangerous. "Do you make it a habit of ignoring advice? Or is this rebellion inspired by something new?"

Ruelle’s voice wavered, "It’s not rebellion. I’m not here to—"

Lucian moved abruptly, leaning in with a fluidity that stole the air from her lungs. The sudden closeness sent a shiver down her spine, and she instinctively pressed herself against the cool stone wall. Her heart hammered as his face hovered inches from hers.

"What are you doing?" she whispered, her voice trembling despite her best efforts.

"Quiet," Lucian murmured, his tone dark and commanding.

His head tilted slightly, and she froze as she felt his breath brush against her neck. The sensation was fleeting, yet it sent a chill skittering across her skin. Her fingers tightened their grip on her gown as if the fabric alone could tether her to sanity.

Then, he inhaled sharply.

The sound was soft, almost faint, but it sent an undeniable shiver through her. His expression darkened as he straightened, his eyes narrowing with irritation.

"The perfume," Lucian remarked, his voice laced with disdain. "Do you even know what you have done?"

"A perfume that wears off after three hours," Ruelle replied quickly, trying to salvage some dignity. "It’s harmless."

Lucian’s jaw tightened, and a muscle feathered in his cheek. "Harmless?" he repeated, his voice low but seething with restrained anger. "Let me enlighten you, Belmont. I am guessing it has been nearly two hours since you doused yourself in that concoction. Side effects—nausea, drowsiness and sometimes fits—will follow soon enough. In this environment, those symptoms might as well be an open invitation."

Ruelle paled. Hailey had never mentioned this—probably because she didn’t know.

"What were you thinking? Walking into a room full of vampires, hoping to be bitten? Or making... connections?" Lucian’s tone dripped with sarcasm, but the question lingered in the air like a challenge.

"It wasn’t like that," she murmured, her voice faltering. "I will fetch my friends and leave this place."

"Your friends," he repeated, his voice softening in a way that was somehow more menacing. "Do they share your taste for trouble? Or are they as reckless as you?"

"No... They’re not here for trouble," Ruelle said quickly, shaking her head. "They were just curious..."

"Have you heard about this phrase, Belmont? Curiosity killed the cat?" Lucian questioned her.

"But satisfaction brought it back?" Ruelle replied innocently, which had a muscle tick in Lucian’s jaw and she went completely quiet.

He stared at her for a long moment, his gaze heavy and unreadable. The tension between them was thick. Finally, he sighed, the sound more exasperated than angry. ƒгeewёbnovel.com

"Foolish humans," he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to her. His red eyes glinted as they fixed on hers again. "Fetch your friends and leave."

Before either could say more, a low whistle echoed from the ballroom doors. Both turned as Sawyer stepped into the corridor, his easy grin widening as he took in the scene.

"Well, well," Sawyer drawled, the amusement in his tone a deliberate provocation. "What’s this? My dear friend Lucian, caught in a secret rendezvous? Now that’s something I never thought I’d witness."

Lucian’s gaze turned glacial. "You assume too fast."

"I do?" Sawyer’s grin didn’t falter. He ignored Lucian’s warning tone and turned his attention to Ruelle, his expression softening into something bordering on charming. "And who might you be, my lady?"

Ruelle froze under Sawyer’s scrutiny, her hands tightening around the fabric of her gown. "Claire," she said, the name slipping out before she had a chance to second-guess herself.

"Claire," Sawyer repeated, rolling the name off his tongue as if tasting it. "A pleasure, Claire. You should join us inside. It’s quite the night."

"She’s not staying," Lucian cut in, his words clipped, as though sealing the matter.

Sawyer raised a brow, his smirk widening. "Not staying? Already scaring this one off, Lucian?"

"I need to get my friends," Ruelle interrupted, mimicking a vampiress’s tone.

Ruelle stepped back inside the ballroom, and she glanced at the dance floor. Relief washed over her when she spotted her friends. They seemed to be enjoying themselves—at least Hailey was and they didn’t seem like they were getting off the floor anytime soon.

"Why don’t you join us for a bit until your friends return?" Sawyer suggested, his grin widening as he gestured toward the ballroom. "It would be terribly rude to leave you without company. Have a drink! Enjoy the evening with us." He turned to Lucian with a playful smirk. "What do you think, Lucian?"

Lucian’s gaze was slow to shift to Sawyer, as though the effort of entertaining the suggestion was beneath him. When he finally spoke, his tone was clipped, "If she can hold a drink."

Ruelle stiffened under his words. He wasn’t mocking her. He was daring her to fail. But right now she was a vampiress to others. She responded, "I can."

Lucian’s lips curved slightly, though the expression wasn’t one of amusement. "Of course you can," he replied, the barest hint of sarcasm lacing his words.

As Ruelle sat on the couch, her attention was drawn to a vampiress leaning over a human on the far side of the room. The man’s head lolled back, his face slack, though his fingers twitched. The vampiress straightened, licking her lips, her satisfaction evident. A shiver raced down Ruelle’s spine.

Suddenly a scream split the air. Ruelle flinched, turning toward the far corner. A human girl writhed weakly as a vampire gripped her arms and buried his fangs deep into her neck. Blood streaked down her dress.

"This must be your first soiree," Blake observed from her seat nearby, her tone casual but tinged with curiosity.

"I don’t do well with screams," Ruelle replied, forcing a small smile. Her fingers itched to grip the fabric of her gown again, but she kept her hands carefully at her sides. It wouldn’t do well to appear weak—not here.

Blake tilted her head, her dark hair cascading like silk over her shoulder. "How quaint. Your family must stick to stored blood then?" Her eyes flicked to Sawyer.

"Never fresh from the source?" Sawyer added, leaning forward with genuine perplexity before breaking into laughter. "You are missing out. A shame, really."

"We have our ways," Ruelle managed, her voice steady despite the unease twisting in her stomach.

The laughter and voices from the other couches swirled around her like a distant echo. She turned her gaze towards Lucian, who didn’t seem to bother with her.

But then his eyes met hers, his expression calm. The look in his eyes made her chest tighten. He wasn’t staring at her exactly. His eyes flickered briefly to the ballroom’s grand exit before returning to her and indication that it wasn’t late to leave.

Ruelle’s attention went back to her friends, where she realised that even though they were enjoying their time, they were gaining attention. She doubted it was because they were turning back to humans. It was because with the way they danced, which wasn’t precise like the other vampires and vampiresses.

Feeling a gaze on the other side of the couch, she turned to catch Angelina, Sawyer’s twin sister staring at her.

"Is something the matter?" Ruelle asked, keeping her voice steady and nonchalant.

"No," Angelina replied, her tone soft and cool. "Your gown. It is a beautiful vintage piece."

"Thank you..." Ruelle replied carefully.

The hum of the ballroom persisted—laughter, tinkling glasses, and music—until a sudden, piercing screech shattered the air. It came from above, silencing the room. The music stopped mid-note, and for a moment, the only sound was the faint echo of the scream.

Ruelle froze, her heart pounding as silence fell over the ballroom. Every gaze turned to the staircase.

A body plummeted from above, blood pooling beneath its shattered skull. The body belonged to one of the guests. Two figures stumbled from the shadows atop the grand staircase. Their eyes glinted, feral and unseeing, as blood dripped from their cracked lips onto tattered, gore-streaked clothing. One of the creatures jerked its head unnaturally as it sniffed the air. They looked hungry.

"Corrupted vampires..." someone whispered, the words trembling with terror.

Before Ruelle could process the warning, more figures emerged from the shadows—four, six, eight—until a dozen corrupted vampires stood at the top of the staircase. Their crazed eyes darted around the room, taking in the crowd of living, breathing prey.

The tension snapped.

"Get out of the manor! They must be infectious!" someone else yelled.

"Don’t let them bite you!" another person shouted.

Panic surged through the room, screams cutting through the thunder of retreating footsteps. Ruelle looked at the dance floor. Hailey and Kevin were being swept toward the main exit by the surging crowd. Her feet moved instinctively towards them, but her steps faltering, and she looked over her shoulder.

Her gaze found Lucian, and for a moment, the chaos blurred. He hadn’t moved. Amid the frantic crush of bodies, he stood motionless, his red eyes unyielding as they followed the corrupted vampires’ descending the stairs.

His stillness was unnerving, his defiance against the chaos almost reckless as if it wasn’t the first time. Around Ruelle, the fleeing guests surged toward the gates, their panic infectious. When another scream pierced the air, she turned and fled out of there.

As Ruelle ran, her eyes darted frantically for her friends. Spotting them, she neared the exit, when three corrupted vampires appeared ahead of her. A guttural snarl tore through the air. She froze for a heartbeat with dread pooling in her stomach.

Two corrupted vampires chased after the people who had crossed the gates which included her friends and others, while the third one pivoted in her direction, locking its eyes on Ruelle. Its bloodied lips pulled back in a savage grin.

Ruelle barely had time to scream before it lunged. Instinctively, she stumbled back. She fell hard, the impact jarring her bones, but the brief second of delay saved her from the creature’s claws as they swiped the air where she had just been.

"Ruelle!" Kevin’s voice was distant, muffled by the panicked crowd.

"Keep running! Get Hailey and yourself to safety!" Ruelle shouted, wanting them to save themselves and she quickly scrambled to her feet and bolted in the opposite direction.

The deranged vampire gave chase, its snarls growing louder as it drove her further into the deeper and darker side of the woods. Soon the sounds of the fleeing crowd faded into an eerie silence. Her breath came in ragged gasps. The cold night air stung her lungs as she sprinted across the open lawn, the uneven ground snagging the hem of her gown. A sharp pain shot through her foot as her already worn out shoe caught on a root and tore apart, leaving her stumbling barefoot over the forest floor.

As she ran her legs stung because of the sharp rocks pressing against her soles. Soon the other shoe came off. Her mind raced, blank and desperate.

Her lungs burned. Her legs screamed. The snarls behind her grew louder, closer, drowning out the pounding of her heart. She ducked beneath a low branch, while the corrupted vampire crashed through the underbrush behind her, its movements chaotic.

As she continued to run, the snarls faded behind her but the footsteps behind her didn’t stop. The forest grew darker, the canopy thickening overhead. Her vision blurred as exhaustion clawed at her resolve.

And then, without warning, strong arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her off the ground as though she weighed nothing. She gasped, her body twisting instinctively in a futile attempt to break free. Her struggles only pressed her closer to the solid warmth of the figure holding her—a stark contrast to the night’s chill.

"Be still," came the low, dangerous voice. The tone of it sent a jolt through Ruelle—a voice she knew all too well. Lucian. When his grip shifted slightly, he lifted her higher, which was when she noticed the sharp thorns ahead of her. "What did I tell you about walking barefoot?"