Claimed by the Prince of Darkness

The following morning, as the sun's gentle light filtered through the curtains, Ruelle woke with a lingering sense of unease. Memories of last night clung to her like morning mist, reminding her to tread carefully and keep a wary eye out for the vampiresses she had cleverly yet recklessly deceived. She knew it was best to dress quickly and make her way to class before trouble had a chance to find her.

A soft yawn broke the silence from across the room, drawing Ruelle's attention. June stirred slowly, stretching as if she were used to mornings that promised more rest and less haste.

"Morning," June greeted, her tone surprisingly soft.

"Morning…" Ruelle replied, wondering how June was coping with the humiliation she had endured the day before.

June hesitated, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. "I... want to apologise for the last time with the sweaters. I didn't realise how hard things could be for us humans until last night," she confessed, fidgeting slightly. "We really need to support one another."

Ruelle considered her words carefully before offering a reassuring smile. "We should. Let bygones be bygones, right?"

June nodded, relief softening her features. "You are kind. I was thinking, if your family sells sweaters, maybe I could help. We could find ways to make things better for both of us."

The suggestion sparked an idea in Ruelle, lighting up her face with a bright smile. "The sweaters… That's it! I could actually earn some money by selling them."

June noticed the shift in Ruelle's voice, her relief evident, which seemed to affect her own guarded demeanour for a moment. "Also from now on, I'll be quick when it's my turn for the bath. This way, you will have enough time, so you won't have to rush so much."

"That would be great..." Ruelle replied. 

As June gathered her clothes and prepared to head to the bath, she paused, turning back to Ruelle. "You know what? You should go first today. I've left my bed a mess anyway."

"Really?" Ruelle asked, her tone laced with uncertainty, unsure if this was truly a gesture of goodwill or if there was something else behind it.

June shrugged casually. "It's only fair, considering I went first yesterday. Plus, it'll give me some time to sort my things out," she added with a light wave of her hand.

Ruelle stepped into the bathroom, closing the door with a soft click that resonated in the quiet space. She unbuttoned her nightgown, allowing the fabric to drift gracefully to the floor. Preparing herself for the familiar, sharp chill of the morning bath, she lowered herself into the tub.

However, as she turned the faucet, she was met with a cascade of murky water, its surface swirling with dark tendrils of grime. Her eyes widened in shock as she quickly stepped out, reaching for a towel and wrapping it tightly around herself. With the dirty water still pouring into the tub, she hurriedly exited the bathroom, driven by a mix of confusion and anger.

"Oh, good, you are done with your bath—" June began, her voice dripping with faux-pleasantness, but her eyes widened theatrically as Ruelle re-entered the room, clearly dishevelled. "What happened to you?"

Ruelle stared at the June. "Is this your doing? Is that why you let me take a bath first?"

"What? Me? I wasn't even in the bathroom, Ruelle. How would I know what happened?" June feigned innocence and a look of hurt crossed her features. "It must have been the senior vampiress! They were very mad at you yesterday, remember? They must have sneaked in while we were asleep."

For a moment, doubt flickered in Ruelle's mind. It was possible, given what occurred last night. However, she caught a fleeting smirk tugging at the corners of June's lips—a silent confession of her trickery. "It wasn't them—it was you! I knew your kindness was too good to be true. I haven't wronged you, so why are you trying to sabotage my life here?"

June sighed dramatically, her performance skilful and seemingly heartfelt. "I don't know what you're talking about. It's very rude of you to blame me, Ruelle. I thought we could leave the past behind, but clearly, you don't want to," she shot back, her tone dripping with faux sincerity. Before Ruelle could respond, June added, "I'm going to get ready now. Excuse me."

A wave of frustration surged through Ruelle, her hands clenching at her sides at June's unapologetic deceit. The sheer pettiness and malice left her stunned. She pursed her lips as she watched her roommate disappear into the bathroom, closing the door with a composed air.

Left standing there, still damp and covered with remnants of grime, Ruelle realised she had no choice but to find a way to wash it off her as it didn't look like the girl was going to step out of the bathroom anytime soon. 

With a sigh of exasperation, she slipped into her clothes from yesterday, picked up her fresh ones, and darted out of the room. In her hurry, as she pulled the door closed behind her, the hem of her dress snagged on the latch, inadvertently clicking it into a locked position. Oblivious to the incident in her haste and frustration, she hurried down the corridor.

On her way, she could hear the snickers of passing students, their laughter echoing in the hallway only adding to her mortification. She finally reached Hailey's room and knocked on the door with a sense of urgency. 

The door creaked open, and Hailey's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of her. "Ruelle?"

"Can I use your bath, please?" Ruelle asked, her voice mingling hope with a hint of pleading. She cast a glance past Hailey into the room for reassurance.

"Of course! Come in," Hailey replied warmly, stepping aside to invite her in. "Blake had some classwork and left early, so it's just me. My things are on the right if you need them. But how did you—"

"It was June," Ruelle interjected with a sigh, frustration mingling with resignation. "I think she tampered with the faucet or the pipes. She won't admit it, of course." She couldn't help but think that rooming with a vampire would have been less stressful compared to dealing with June Clifford. 

"I'm sorry you have to endure her," Hailey sympathised, offering a comforting smile. "Let me go get something for you to eat while you shower. It will save time. Go on."

Ruelle felt a sense of gratitude at Hailey's offer. "Thank you."

Stepping into the bathroom, Ruelle hurriedly peeled off her clothes, the fabric clinging to her skin where the grimy water had left its mark. She tossed her sullied clothes into a bucket of water, deciding to let them soak while she focused on washing the morning's chaos away.

Cupping her hands, she poured clean water over her head, feeling the water stream down, carrying away the residue of dirt and frustration. For a fleeting moment, she imagined leaving this place behind. She could return to the simplicity of previous life rather than compete in this toxic race where everyone seemed intent on pulling each other down. 

As she lathered the soap through her hair, Ruelle's thoughts danced around the idea of escape. After thoroughly rinsing, she wrapped her hair in the towel, squeezing out the excess water before securing the same towel around her body. As she stepped back into the room, her bare feet whispered against the wooden floor, only to come to an abrupt halt. 

Her breath hitched in her throat as her eyes landed on the figure standing at the far side of the room—a tall, dark silhouette against the glow of the morning sun rays. Her heart began to race, the rapid thudding loud in her ears as she recognised the vampire.

Lucian stood by the desk, his back turned to her, one hand casually flipping through a stack of books. His movements were precise and indifferent, as if she wasn't present. Ruelle fidgeted nervously, shifting her weight before quickly grabbing her dress to cover her shoulders, desperately trying to cover herself.

"This is the girls' room! You shouldn't be here!" Ruelle's voice trembled. But Lucian didn't so much as flinch, his long fingers continuing to flip through the pages of a book as though she hadn't spoken at all. "Did you hear me? This is the—"

"There's no need to shout." His voice was deep and cold. He didn't bother turning to look at her, his disinterest evident. "I heard you the first time."

Ruelle's breath caught, her skin prickling at the dark velvet of his tone. She wanted to demand he leave, to assert some control, but the words faltered in her throat. She had to get dressed—she needed to, if she was going to make it to class—but how could she with him here?

"Can you… can you please leave?" she stammered, her voice shaky yet louder this time, "I—I can't get ready with you standing here."

Lucian let out a low, soft chuckle, the sound as cold as it was dismissive. "I have no interest in what a human like you does." His voice was like silk, deceptively gentle but dripping with the same icy detachment as his gaze. The way he uttered 'human' sent a sharp sting through her, like a subtle insult. He moved away from the desk and strode towards the cupboard as though he owned the place.

Ruelle bit her lip, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Who's bothering who? Gathering her courage, she asked, "Do you always barge into places without warning?" she asked, though her voice wavered, betraying the confidence she tried to project.

A sharp exhale escaped Lucian. He turned slowly, each movement deliberate and exacting. When his eyes finally locked onto hers, they were as sharp and cold as ice—piercing, detached, and utterly devoid of even the slightest hint of warmth. 

"Do you make a habit of leaving doors unlocked?" His voice was soft, laced with a patronising undertone that sent a shiver down Ruelle's spine. "And last I checked, this room doesn't belong to you."

Ruelle blinked, momentarily stunned by his utter lack of regard. "This is my friend's room. The one you…" her voice trailed off, her eyebrows furrowed as she watched him casually resume his search through the cupboard. "The one you told to change her name. Acting mighty as if they have a hold on people's names," she muttered under her breath, half to herself but loud enough that Lucian's keen ears picked up every word.

Lucian's hand stilled before he turned to face her completely. The light from outside cast a faint glow around him, highlighting his dark, tousled hair and accentuating the sharp lines of his face.

"What did you say?" he asked, his voice barely audible yet laced with an unspoken threat.

Ruelle's pulse quickened. She bit her lip, her throat dry as she forced herself to speak. "You have no right to demand that she change her name. It's not up to you."

His eyes darkened, a flicker of something dangerous flashing across his face. He stepped toward her, each movement deliberate and unhurried, pulling the room's warmth with him, leaving an unmistakable chill in his wake.

"I will do whatever I please," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "And you, human, would do well to remember your place."

Ruelle's breath hitched, her hands trembling. "You don't have to say it like that," she whispered, her voice smaller now, retreating. As if 'human' was some kind of dirty word.

The air around her almost felt suffocating. His presence was overwhelming her senses.

"Don't I?" he said, his voice low. "Do you think you're special because Sawyer paid a little attention to you? Do you think you're different from the rest of the pathetic, desperate humans who crawl their way here, grovelling for a place where they don't belong or a position they don't deserve?"

Ruelle flinched, her heart hammering in her chest. "I am not trying to grovel for anything," she managed to say, though her voice faltered. "I'll be leaving Sexton as soon as I can." It was something she decided while in the bath. She avoided his gaze, her body still embarrassedly aware of her half-dressed state, feeling more exposed than ever.

This wasn't a place for her and she was ready to pack her trunk. 

"Leave?" he echoed, his voice soft, almost indulgent. "You won't." There was a dark certainty in his words that sent a chill through her.

She wanted to argue, to stand her ground, but the intensity of his gaze left her utterly speechless. She could feel her resolve crumbling under the force of his words, her confidence slipping away like sand through her fingers. But what slipped first was the dress clutched so desperately in an attempt to hide her shoulders, fell softly to the ground with a whisper of fabric. 

Ruelle froze, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. Every instinct screamed at her to move, to do something, but instead, she averted her eyes while standing in just a towel.

Before she could collapse under the weight of his gaze, seconds that felt like an eternity passed in silence. Then, without warning, Lucian turned. The abruptness of his movement left a void in the air. Without so much as a backward glance in her direction, he strode towards the door, his footsteps eerily silent. The door clicked shut behind him. 

Alone at last, Ruelle sagged, her knees weak and trembling, threatening to give way beneath her. She held onto the towel tightly as she tried to steady herself. 

Having already lost too much time, Ruelle hurried to get dressed. Once ready, she slipped out of the door, and as she reached the end of the corridor, she spotted Hailey. 

"I had to sneak in the food because they wouldn't let me take it," Hailey said with a roll of her eyes. "So weird."

"Thank you for your thoughtfulness," Ruelle said, taking the food from her with a grateful smile. As they walked together towards class, Ruelle hesitated for a moment before asking, "Do you, by chance, know where the head office is?"

"I don't," Hailey replied with a curious look. "But we can ask around. Why? Do you want to complain about Clifford?"

No, it wasn't about that, thought Ruelle. But before she could reply, June appeared to block her path. She was the last person she wanted to talk to or see right now. 

"Funny, I was about to head to the office myself—maybe I'll just beat you to it and report how you hindered me from getting to my class by locking the door," June sneered, her eyes narrowing with malice.

Ruelle's brow furrowed. "What door?" she asked, her voice reflecting her genuine puzzlement.

"Don't act innocent." June folded her arms, her stance casual but confrontational. "That little stunt of locking me in my room? Pathetic, really. I wouldn't have expected it from you, but I guess it's always the quiet ones."

Ruelle didn't know what June was going on about, but if it did happen, she didn't feel bad about it considering the dirty water trick the girl had pulled earlier. Steeling herself, she offered a polite smile, "Perhaps it was the senior vampiress who mistook me for you."

"I will make sure you are reported!" June hissed before storming off down the corridor. 

"I guess we can just follow her to find the office?" Hailey suggested lightly.

That was a good idea, and before long, Ruelle found herself standing a couple of steps behind June, who stood before Mr. Mortis. The room around them exuded an air of elegance, with the walls and ceiling wrapped in rich teak wood. Five lanterns hung from the ceiling, their soft light casting a gentle, flickering light that danced across the polished surfaces.

"My roommate, Ruelle Belmont, locked me in my room this morning!" June exclaimed, while the vampire meticulously scanned a parchment in his hand. "I was going to be late for an important class today."

Mr. Mortis lifted his gaze slowly, his expression exuding a weary patience as he glanced at the grandfather clock ticking away in the corner. "This morning?" he asked, his tone even, as though he had heard far more unnecessary complaints this morning in his long career at Sexton.

"Well, yes—this morning's class! She just—" June stammered, her anger faltering under Mr. Mortis' scrutinising gaze.

"So, despite being free before the class starts, rather than rushing to make it on time—which starts in two minutes—you're here?" Mr. Mortis questioned, eyebrows arching in mild disbelief.

June hesitated, realising her complaint wasn't as compelling as she'd hoped. "But she—"

"To the class. Now," Mr. Mortis ordered, his tone brooking no argument. June pressed her lips into a thin line and with a glare aimed at Ruelle, retreated from the room.

"And you two," he remarked, turning his keen gaze to Ruelle and Hailey, "do you require special instructions?"

Hailey shook her head in fear, quickly turning to leave, only to see Ruelle step forward. The latter's heart pounded as she stood before Mr. Mortis's desk.

The weight of the vampire's gaze bored into her, but Ruelle pushed through, her voice just above a whisper. "I—I want to quit Sexton," she informed him. 

Mr. Mortis fixed her with a gaze before he spoke in a tone of finality, "From the moment Groundlings and Halflings cross Sexton's doors, they become its possession. This is not a place you can enter or exit at will. Now, I suggest you return to class—unless you intend to fall behind by choice."