Claimed by the Demon prince

Untitled Chapter six: The First Night In Black Valley

Lucille POV

I snatched my hand away so quickly that the blanket slipped from my lap, my heart was beating so hard I could hear it in my ears. The place where his tongue had touched my wrist still felt warm, but the wound was gone.

I turned my hand over again and rubbed my thumb across the smooth skin, hoping I had missed something there wasn't even a scar. My eyes lifted to him, he had already stepped back as though nothing unusual had happened.

I swallowed before finding my voice. "Why did you save me?" I asked. "Those men were trying to kill me. You could have walked away and left me there."

He looked at me for a long moment before answering. "I could have." His voice stayed calm. "But once you crossed into the demon realm, you became my responsibility."

I frowned. "Your responsibility?"

He nodded once. "That is our law."

My stomach turned. "Does that mean I'm your prisoner?"

His face didn't change. "By our law, you belong to me." I stopped breathing for a second. Before I could speak again, he continued. "No one will touch you without my permission. That includes every demon in this palace."

The words should have frightened me, yet they left me feeling strangely safe. I hated that feeling I had trusted one man before, and he had destroyed my life without regret. I wasn't going to make the same mistake again.

"Belong?" I repeated. "You speak as though I'm an object."

He didn't argue. "I am telling you how the law works, not how I see you."

Before I could answer, someone knocked softly on the door. A servant entered with a tray of food balanced carefully in his hands and another folded bundle resting over one arm. The smell of hot bread and roasted meat filled the room.

My empty stomach twisted painfully, but I looked away from the tray. The servant placed everything on the table, bowed to Azazel, then hurried back out without looking at me once.

"I don't want it," I said after the door closed.

Azazel glanced at the untouched tray. "You need to eat."

I shook my head. "How do I know it isn't poisoned?"

The question slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it. We had all grown up hearing stories about demons they killed without mercy and they enjoyed making others suffer. Why would they feed a wolf unless they wanted something from her?

Azazel walked to the table without saying a word. He picked up the spoon, tasted the soup, tore off a piece of bread, and ate it. Then he cut a piece of meat and swallowed that too. Finally, he placed the spoon back beside the bowl and looked at me.

"If I wanted you dead, little wolf, I would not waste good food doing it." Heat drops rushed into my face. I felt foolish, but I still didn't move.

He carried the tray himself and placed it across my lap. "Eat," he said quietly. "You have lost too much blood already."

My hand rested over my stomach before I realized what I was doing. My baby needed food even if I didn't feel hungry. Slowly, I reached for the bread and took a small bite.

Azazel stayed where he was, watching until I took another bite, he looked satisfied enough to leave. As he turned toward the door, he stopped without facing me.

"When you finish eating, do not leave these chambers." His voice became cold. "There are demons in this palace who will ignore the law if they think they can escape punishment. They will not see a frightened wolf, they will see an opportunity."

He opened the door and walked out, leaving me staring after him with the bread still in my hand. The room became quiet after he left. I listened to his footsteps until I could no longer hear them, then looked around properly for the first time.

The chamber was far larger than any room I had ever slept in. Dark stone walls surrounded me, decorated only by heavy red curtains and shelves filled with books I couldn't read from where I sat.

A fire burned steadily in the corner, taking away the evening cold. Nothing about this place felt welcoming, yet it was clean. There were no chains waiting for me, no locked cage, no filthy floor where slaves were expected to sleep.

I finished the last piece of bread before setting the tray aside. The folded clothes the servant had brought caught my attention. I carried them behind a screen and changed out of my torn dress. Fresh bruises covered my arms, my back, and my legs.

Marcus had not been gentle when he struck me, and the fall onto the stones had done the rest. My hand drifted to my stomach, I closed my eyes and whispered a prayer that my baby would stay safe.

Then my thoughts turned to Keisha. I pictured her waking up alone, searching for me, only to discover I was gone. I hoped she was alive and Lycaon had at least kept his promise to spare her.

I don't know how long I cried. My tears finally stopped because there were no more left to shed. I washed my face with the bowl of clean water beside the bed and forced myself to breathe slowly.

Crying wouldn't change what had happened. It wouldn't bring my parents back or erase Lycaon's betrayal or carry me home. I was trapped inside the demon realm with no way out, and if I wanted to protect the child growing inside me, I had to survive long enough to find another path.

I lay down, expecting sleep to come quickly, but my mind refused to rest. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Lycaon smiling at Marcus while my whole world fell apart.

A scream ripped through the silence, my eyes flew open, another followed, louder this time, then another. I remembered Azazel's warning, but curiosity pulled me out of bed.

I walked carefully to the tall window and moved the curtain just enough to look outside. Torches lit the courtyard below, several demons were on their knees with their hands bound behind their backs. Soldiers surrounded them with weapons drawn.

Standing before them was Azazel. His face held the same calm expression he had worn while healing my wrist. He spoke only one sentence, I couldn't hear the words from where I stood, but the executioner understood them.

A blade flashed through the air, and the first head rolled across the stone. The others started begging for mercy just as Azazel slowly lifted his eyes toward my window.