Claimed by the Prince of Darkness

When Lucian arrived at the harbour, the cobblestones were left raised and the ground broken. He pushed the men away as he made his way forward. He could smell blood in the air and the closer he got, the darker his eyes turned until his eyes fell on the two bodies laid on the ground.

Lucian's steps slowed before it came to a halt. For a long moment, he did not move at all.

One of them belonged to Dane and the other was Lachlan. His brother lay still on the ground, his face pale and covered in dirt, his once vibrant, mischievous eyes closed. And where his chest should have risen and fallen, a gaping and hollow wound sat there.

Lucian knelt down before his hand reached for his brother's. Even though it was winter, his brother's fingers were still cooling, as though death had only just finished its work. As though he had missed saving him by seconds.

Though the young Slater's face betrayed nothing, something had been gutted just as cleanly as his brother's chest. A wound that bled invisibly but endlessly, pooling somewhere deep beneath the surface of his aloof expression.

Lucian's thumb moved once across the back of Dane's hand and he caught sight of dirt beneath the nails. Dane would have complained about it. He always did. Even after returning from a hunt covered in blood, he would sit there picking the smallest speck from beneath his nails.

And when Dane didn't move or comment on it, Lucian picked the dirt from beneath his nails himself.

With how peaceful his brother looked, one would think it wasn't a painful death if it weren't for the gaping hole.

When Lucian's own body turned against him and everyone else looked at him as though he had become something monstrous, Dane had stayed. He had simply been his brother, consistently and entirely, in a world that had otherwise shifted beneath Lucian's feet like sand.

"Don't scare him away. He's going to walk her down the aisle," Lucian had said earlier that morning, catching the sly look in Dane's eye as Lachlan avoided his gaze across the breakfast table.

"Scare?" Dane's answering chuckle echoed now at the back of his mind, warm and rich and utterly unrepentant. "If I wanted to scare him, little brother, I would have used far more creative methods. I'm merely letting him stew."

"I should have denied your offer today," Lucian whispered, too quietly for the people around him to hear.

He had known there was more behind Dane's offer than simply accompanying Ruelle to the harbour. He had noticed the way his brother's attention had begun to linger on her cousin, but he didn't question it. Dane had always gone wherever his curiosity took him, and Lucian had never seen a reason to interfere. Besides, knowing his brother's tastes and how easily his interests had come and gone over the years, he had doubted this one would be any different.

Yet now Lachlan lay dead beside him.

Regret began to seep through him like slow poison. It started in his chest and spread outward with the smoke like tendrils that put the other people there on guard.

"Where is Ruelle?" Lucian questioned, while his eyes were still on his brother.

The people around had no answer and they shifted where they stood. There was a pause before Peyton answered, "Ezekiel used her appearance to fool us..."

His fingers tightened around Dane's cold hand and he finally stood up.

"We have already sent the men after the trail, sire!" an officer informed, but Lucian was aware of how useless people could be.

Claude and Peyton stood on the side, heads bowed low in shame, the weight of death pressing down on both their shoulders and the young woman missing. With so many bodies crowded near the harbour and so many conflicting scents tangled together, it had been nearly impossible to discern which scent belonged to whom.

"How did this happen, Peyton?" the officer demanded sharply, rounding on the vampiress who had been entrusted with guarding the human girl. "You must have gotten distracted. This is precisely why women are unfit for such jobs. Tch."

Peyton's hands clenched at her sides, her jaw tightening, though she said nothing in her own defence. There was nothing to say. She had failed. That single truth sat heavier than any insult he could throw at her. They had all been standing near the food stall together until Dane had wandered off to speak with the harbour's official about the recent break-in. After that the pureblooded vampire had disappeared.

"What a tragedy…" one of the officers muttered under his breath. His gaze moved to Dane's body. "How did this person even manage to kill him in the first place? And to think no one noticed?"

"The killer must have been following them," whispered another person. "If it was coincidence, it was bad luck…"

"The young miss should have stayed put in the mansion rather than gone out to shop," Minister Gaile remarked in the corner, adjusting his coat with a disappointed shake of his head. "I mean, given how things have been as of late, it was rather reckless of-"

Lucian's hand had closed around the minister's throat with a force that lifted the man clean off his feet. His eyes had gone utterly black, while thick tendrils of inky darkness began to spread. The gathered men scrambled backward, tripping over one another in their haste to put distance between themselves and the enraged pureblooded vampire, who looked like he was hitting another corruption.

"I should blame Ruelle?" Lucian's voice was low and raw with a fury. "Are you certain that is the conclusion you wish to draw, Minister? Should I, perhaps, punish you instead—for sending me off to work today when I could have been with her?"

"Lu—Lucian!" Minister Gaile's hands scrabbled uselessly against Lucian's wrist, his nails digging into unyielding skin as blood began to drip from the puncture wounds forming beneath Lucian's grip.

Lucian looked at Minister Gaile as though there was no reason to keep him alive. The skin beneath his eyes had begun to change, dark markings spreading like roots beneath the surface.

"Lucian, let go of him!" Lord Azriel quickly rushed to his son's side, though even he hesitated to touch the writhing shadows coiling around Lucian.

"Or should I blame my father instead?" Lucian continued, his grip tightening. "For agreeing work was more important so that no one suffers the way my family did? Or perhaps I should blame my brother—my dead brother—for volunteering to escort her? Or shall I blame myself for not being careful?"

"Is it easier for you," Lucian snarled, leaning in close enough that Minister Gaile's face had turned an alarming shade of purple, "to simply blame the one who is still alive to hear it?"

He harshly pushed the minister, who stumbled gasping for air.

Lucian turned, his eyes falling on Lachlan, whose eyes carried a look of shock in them. He bent down before reaching out—his hand steady despite everything—and drew his palm gently over Lachlan's eyes, closing them.

A few other figures belonging to the courthouse arrived in their fine coats and polished boots. They surveyed the shattered harbour with expressions ranging from bewilderment to carefully composed concern.

"How is there an earthquake in the middle of the winter?!" one of them questioned in confusion. His eyes swept over the damage before he instructed the men, "Have the place cleaned and cleared at once."

A hand settled gently on Lucian's shoulder.

"Lucian."

It was Lord Azriel who tried to compose himself, as it wasn't the time to falter. When Lucian did not respond, his hand tightened enough to anchor his youngest son. He advised,

"You need to find Ruelle. I will take Dane and Lachlan home."

Lucian's jaw worked. His grip on Dane's hand remained firm for a second longer before he finally forced his fingers to uncurl and let go. His brother was dead and Ruelle was somewhere he didn't know yet, and suddenly there was very little left that Lucian cared to protect from himself.

"Don't wait for me. I will return when she is found," he said, his voice hollow and distant.

Lord Azriel didn't argue. He had seen that emptiness in his son's eyes when corruption had threatened to first swallow him. He said,

"Bring her back. And come back yourself, Lucian."

Lucian didn't answer his father.

While Dane and Lachlan were carried towards the carriage, Lucian turned to his coachman, who quickly came to his side.

"There are two potions in a blue box. You will find it under the side table of my room. Pour them at the Oak Bridge near Eden Town," Lucian instructed.

Claude bowed and left right away.

"What are you planning with the potions?" Carnifex asked, walking toward him as he had just arrived.

"The water under the oak bridge connects to every channel of water across these lands." Lucian's voice was flat. As though he were reciting the weather rather than orchestrating something catastrophic. "Witches who consume it will die."

Carnifex's eyebrows furrowed. "That would kill even innocent witches who have brought no harm—"

"What does it matter?" Lucian asked with no flicker of hesitation in his voice. "People die all the time. Shouldn't you be looking for Ruelle too right now?"

Carnifex wore a severe look and he replied, "Word has been sent to close the borders and gates to restrict movement. We will be searching from the outside while you look for the inside."

Lucian reached into his coat and withdrew the compass that Ruelle had given to him nearly two weeks ago. When the dial didn't stay in one direction but kept moving back and forth, his jaw ticked.

"The dial points where her blood has been spilt. You will need to reach the place to have it move in the actual direction," Carnifex let him know with his gaze on it.

Lucian clutched the compass and ordered the other men, "Search every building and house. Every mansion or castle."

One of the men replied, "Mansion? But we cannot enter without—"

"Break the doors if they don't open them. Anyone who refuses to cooperate will be detained," Lucian passed the order. "And if you're incapable of doing your job, I will relieve you permanently."

"Get to work, everyone!" Carnifex urged and the men scrambled away from there.

Far away in an unknown place, Ruelle regained consciousness. The first thing she felt was heavy throbbing on the side of her head, where the pain had spread to her jaw. Her wrists were bound with rough rope that bit into her skin, tight enough that her fingers were already beginning to tingle with the threat of numbness.

As her eyes focused on where she was, she noticed light coming from the lantern that hung at the corner of the room. The ceiling above her was made of stone and so were the walls without windows, leaving the air thick and cold.

As her mind caught up with the reality of what had happened, her head began to pound, and she leaned to the side to throw up.

Her throat tightened before hot, useless tears pressed at the corners of her eyes. She had only wanted to find Belladonna's ingredients so she could see her mother before the wedding. So that she and Lucian could have her blessing before they married. She squeezed her eyes shut again, hard, and forced her breathing to slow. Wherever this place was, she had to get out of here but just as the thought crossed, the door to the room opened and in stepped Ezekiel with a bowl in his hand.

"I thought I heard you," Ezekiel remarked as he stepped inside. He had returned to his original appearance. His eyes fell to the ground beside her and he said, "Looks like your stomach is upset."

He brought a glass of water for her to drink and she said, "Remove these binds."

Ezekiel smiled. "I think it has already been established that you aren't to be trusted with your hands free. If you behave, I will think about removing them." He raised the glass to her face, to which she turned away.

But Ezekiel didn't take kindly to the refusal. His hand shot out and clamped around her jaw, fingers digging painfully into her cheeks as he forced her face towards him.

When Ruelle kept her lips sealed, his grip tightened until her mouth was forced open, and he tipped the glass against it. Water rushed into her mouth faster than she could swallow. She choked, jerking against his hold as it spilled from the corners of her lips and ran down her chin, soaking into the stained bloody collar of her dress.

"You know it doesn't have to be like this between us. We are meant to be together," Ezekiel sighed.

She wanted to claw at his face until he stopped looking at her with those patient, loving eyes that saw her not as a person, but as a possession that had simply wandered too far from its owner.

"The only person I want to be with is Lucian. Not you, but Lucian Slater," Ruelle replied once her coughs had ceased. "You are a married man, and my brother—"

The glass that Ezekiel was holding shattered in his hand and drops of blood fell on the ground as his hand tightened into fists. "I was never Caroline's husband. I didn't touch her, Ruelle, because I have loved you. You need to stop fighting this and you will see how much I love you. All those lives you couldn't be mine, but this one I am making sure it doesn't happen."

Hearing those words, Ruelle felt cold slip into her body. "Lives?"

Ezekiel opened his palm, pulling out the shards of glasses carefully while his eyebrows drew closer. A small smile came to his lips and he whispered, "I have had dreams, Ruelle. Where you were irrevocably in love with me, but someone kept pulling you away from me? Which is why I planned well this time to save you."

There was no way Ezekiel was able to see the alternate past timelines, thought Ruelle to herself. Because if that were true, it meant her dream was not far from being true.

"I have been planning to help you, to bring you to the right side but—"

"Why did you kill Dane and Lachlan? How can you claim to be a good person when you have done nothing but kill? You don't even care about my happiness," Ruelle demanded as angry tears threatened.

Ezekiel's lips twisted into a sneer. He answered, "Dane wasn't as good a man as you think he was, Ruelle. The only thing is my actions were found, but he's killed plenty. He framed me for your father's death, for something I had no hand in. How is that fair? It was only right we settle scores. And that other man? Why do you need other men when I am here, am I not enough?"

"He is my cousin—"

"A distant one! You aren't even blood relatives for you to be so close and let men touch you frivolously. But we can work on that. There's plenty of time," Ezekiel nodded as he spoke to her. "So where was I? Yes, the planning. I was surprised to find you at the harbour today because I thought we were going to meet on the day of the wedding," he chuckled, as if finding some amusement in his own thoughts.

Ruelle only stared at the halfling, as it was obvious he wasn't right in the head and had his own perception.

"I was surprised to find you at the harbour today because I had made such grand plans for this supposed farce of a wedding. It was meant to be," Ezekiel said with a small chuckle. "Because I had prepared everything and was out for a last item. The entire Slater household were going to be poisoned before you would wed. Once they were all dead, there would have been no one left to keep you away from me." His expression darkened. "Especially Lucian Slater."

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