ash_knight17

The clock struck midnight when Ruelle heard the echo of footsteps. She tensed, the fine hairs on the back of her neck standing on end in the cool night air.

"You shouldn't be here," Ruelle whispered, her voice a breathless murmur. The silhouette finally came to stand under the moonlight, his dark red eyes watching her and his inky black hair ruffling.

"Shouldn't I?" His voice was a dark caress, and she stood there captivated by the danger he exuded like perfume.

"I haven’t seen you for the last two days," his tone low. His hand reached out, fingers brushing against the silk of her nightgown, tracing the trembling outline of her collarbone. "Tell me, were you avoiding me, or perhaps... entertaining other offers?"

Ruelle’s heart raced, her breaths shallow. She declared, "I don't belong to anyone.”

"A bold claim," he murmured, his breath a tantalising chill against her skin as he leaned in. "Yet here you are, pulse racing, your body tensed as if in anticipation of my touch."

His fingers gripped her chin, tilting her face towards his. The moonlight caught his eyes, revealing a glint of predatory intent. "Or must I remind you whose touch you truly crave?"

Claimed by the Prince of Darkness

The scent of charcoal and linseed oil clung to the air, thick and lingering, weaving with the soft murmurs of the senior year students in the circular classroom. Tall, arched windows bathed the room in streams of golden light. Each student sat before their easels.

"What are we drawing today, Mr. Swan? The air?" A snicker broke through the quiet, the voice dripping with mockery. There was no model, no object at the centre of the room to focus on.

Mr. Swan, the art teacher, wore a wide, excited smile, seemingly unaffected by the comment. His hands flailed dramatically, as if caught in the rhythm of his thoughts.

"Drawing a blizzard does sound tempting with winter on the horizon, but I have something better in mind," he declared, his voice almost manic with enthusiasm. "Today's class is not about technique—it's about emotion! Draw what you feel. What's on your mind. Convey it through your art!"

Plotting her humiliation