Claimed by the Prince of Darkness novel Chapter 55

Chapter 55: Not so gentle

Ruelle blinked at him. The pitter-patter of rain now faded into silence. She blurted out,

"You hate humans."

Lucian didn’t deny it. "I do." His voice was smooth, effortless. A truth so straightforward, so absolute, that it required no further explanation.

She watched as he sauntered to his desk, picked up the lit candle, and dragged the chair toward the bed. The soft scrape of wood against the floor filled the silence. He placed the candle atop the seat.

When he turned back to her, she murmured to herself in confusion, "But you helping me..."

A faint smirk ghosted across his lips before disappearing. "What better way to spend an evening than stabbing a human’s ears?" The words were casual, as if they held no real weight. He closed the distance between them, his tone bored. "It might quench the rage. Don’t mistake it for anything else."

Ruelle hesitated. "You don’t have to—"

Lucian cut her off by plucking the needle from her grasp with effortless precision. His gaze flicked over her face—assessing, calculating—before turning away. He walked toward the bed and sat down, tapping his hand against the beige bedspread.

"Are you going to let me do this," he drawled, red eyes glinting, "or waste the entire night standing there?"

She wasn’t sure if she should accept his help, but the thought of struggling with the needle herself was far worse. She murmured, "Okay."

Walking to the bed, Ruelle carefully perched on it, keeping enough distance between them that she had to lean forward slightly for him to reach her.

Lucian didn’t seem bothered by it. Instead, he reached for a small vial on the chair, uncorking it with practiced ease. The sharp scent of alcohol filled the air as he poured the liquid over the needle. Without pause, he held the metal over the flickering flame.

Ruelle watched the metal glow under the orange light made her stomach twist. Desperate for distraction, she forced herself to speak.

"You might not be first this time."

"Hm?" Lucian didn’t look away from the needle.

"The class ranking," she clarified. "Because you missed a test, you might not place at the top this time."

Lucian finally flicked his gaze to her. The weight of it was unsettling, unreadable. Then, just as quickly, he looked away.

"I already wrote it the previous day," he replied, twirling the needle between his fingers.

Three tests in a day? Ruelle asked herself. It must be nothing to him.

Lucian gestured toward her.

She exhaled slowly, steadying herself. Pushing her hair behind her ear, she exposed the soft curve of her earlobe. Her heart pounded against her ribs, and when Lucian lifted the needle, she noticed his hands—long fingers, elegant yet strong. The kind of hands bred for precision.

She had never paid much attention to his features up close, but now, in the candlelight, she could see the details. His dark, tousled hair framed his face in careless waves, some strands falling across his dark eyebrows, which was effortlessly intimidating. His jaw was defined along with the slant of his cheekbones.