Claimed by the Prince of Darkness novel Chapter 31

Chapter 31: Collision of Worlds

Ruelle stood outside Lucian’s door, staring at the handle as if it might bite her. Her heart thudded heavily in her chest.

To her side, her belongings were piled neatly at the entrance. She had agreed to this arrangement, but the thought of sharing a room with Lucian Slater was far from comforting. She hadn’t even had the chance to thank him properly—he had immediately left Mr. Mortis’ office without a word.

Just breathe, she told herself, her hand hovering over the door handle. He probably already thought she was a nuisance.

Ruelle hesitated for another moment before finally pushing the door open. The room was dim, the faint light from the hallway casting long shadows. Lucian was absent, and she released a breath.

How had Mr. S even convinced him to let her stay here? She wondered. She had been so sure he would refuse outright.

As she entered the room, hesitantly taking a step, she noticed—Lucian’s room was nothing like hers or Hailey’s room. It was larger than she expected. Dark, sleek furniture dominated the space, with shelves lined with meticulously ordered books and cabinets. Heavy velvet curtains hung across the windows. In one corner, a single bed, draped in black silk sheets, lay against the wall. It was as cold and unwelcoming as its owner.

A shiver ran down her spine as the icy air settled around her. The fireplace was nothing more than an empty, cold relic. Ruelle quickly moved her things inside and shut the door softly behind her. She wanted to let Hailey know she was safe, but the thought of running into Alanna kept her rooted to the spot.

"I’ll tell her tomorrow," she whispered to herself. She hurried to light a few candles to chase away the gloom.

Her eyes darted to the lone bed in the room. It was obviously Lucian’s, and the thought of lying there made her stomach twist with anxiety. She wasn’t going to share the bed with a man. Grabbing a blanket from her belongings, she spread it across the floor, trying to make herself comfortable. The cold seeped through the stone floor, chilling her even as she curled.

Her thoughts swirled with uncertainty and guilt. And though she tried to fall asleep, it was difficult knowing she was rooming with a male.

The next morning, Ruelle woke up early with light filtering in through the cracks in the curtains. Her back didn’t ache as she sat upright, as she was used to the floor.

The room was silent— with no sign of Lucian yet.

Ruelle glanced around, noticing the disarray—some books scattered across the windows, loose parchments strewn haphazardly on the desk, and cushions tossed carelessly on the couch.

"Maybe I should clean this place up," she thought loudly. She didn’t have anything to offer him for letting her stay here, but she could show him she wasn’t a burden.

As she moved to pick up a book, an old memory resurfaced, her mother’s harsh voice echoing in her mind.

"Are you a princess now? Too good to clean your own room?" her mother looked at her with a frown.

A young Ruelle replied, "No, Caroline was supposed to—"

Her mother’s scowl was all the response she received, who said, "Caroline is busy. You should be grateful you have a room at all. Now stop waiting around and clean up. And don’t expect anyone to thank you for something so basic."

She shook the memory away, biting the inside of her cheek. She just wanted to make things a little easier.

Ruelle started by folding the blanket she had slept on and stacking it neatly in the corner. Then she gathered the books, carefully placing them back on the shelves in the order they seemed to belong. Loose parchments were smoothed and arranged on the desk, and she straightened the cushions on the couch, fluffing them slightly.

Her gaze then fell on a small pot sitting by the bedside. She gently picked it up, intending to place it on the desk with the other items.

It was then that door creaked open behind her.

Startled, Ruelle turned to catch Lucian step into the room, his presence immediately filling the space. His sharp red eyes scanned the room as though sensing that something had shifted. Then they locked onto her—and the pot in her hands. She felt the sudden shift in the air.

"What," Lucian said, his voice low and dangerous, "do you think you’re doing?"

"I was just tidying up. I—I thought since I’m staying here, I should help—" Ruelle replied, not knowing what was wrong. The simmering anger beneath his words made her hands tremble.

Lucian crossed the room in swift strides, snatching the pot from her hands with a sharp motion. His glare pinned her in place and he warned her, "Don’t you ever touch my things again. Unless, you don’t want to live another day."

Ruelle’s heart raced, her breath catching in her throat. She explained, "I didn’t mean to invade your privacy. I just thought—"

"You thought?" Lucian cut her off, his voice dripping with cold disdain. His eyes narrowed to slits, sharp and predatory. "For someone who goes touching things that don’t belong to them, I am surprised you think at all."

Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She replied, "That wasn’t my intention! I was just trying to show gratitude for—"