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

Ruelle's bruised bare feet hung midair, her pulse pounding in her ears. Lucian's words were a contrast to the heat of his grip—firm and steady.

"My shoes tore when I was being chased," she said, her voice hoarse, a faint tremour betraying the fear still clinging to her. Remembering the corrupted vampire, she blurted in a rush, "That corrupted vampire is—"

"Is dead," Lucian interrupted flatly.

Her breath caught. Dead? Surely, the creature hadn't died on its own. And considering they were now alone, it wasn't difficult to guess who had ended it.

"Can you…let me down now?" she asked finally, her cheeks flushing as embarrassment crept up her neck. For the first time, she noticed the steady rise and fall of Lucian's chest against her back, the faint brush of his breath near her ear, and the way he carried her effortlessly, as though she weighed no more than air.

A Path Crossed Twice