Chapter 29: Roommate Options

Music Recommendation: Postcards – Alexandre Desplat

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Not just an Elite, but a man as a roommate.

“Lady Blake… a man and a woman cannot share a room,” Ruelle frowned, her voice faltering at the scandalous implication. “That—that is improper. It’s—”

“Scandalous?” Blake finished for her, raising an eyebrow as though the very idea amused her. “In your society, yes. But Sexton isn’t exactly bound by such rules. There have been exceptions for those with special arrangements, especially when they are requested by an Elite.”

Ruelle’s face flushed with heat as her friend shifted uncomfortably beside her.

Her mind spun with thoughts of societal rules, of decency, and reputations that were so carefully built, yet could so easily crumble. In her world, unmarried men and women did not share living quarters. Ever. If word got out, it wouldn’t just be her reputation on the line—it could ruin everything.

“I—I can’t,” Ruelle stammered.

“You shouldn’t trouble yourself with the thought. It’s not as if he would agree to it either,” Blake said matter-of-factly, shrugging off her robe and tossed it over a chair. “He’d rather burn down the room than let a human live with him.”

Hailey, still wide-eyed, asked curiously, “Who are you talking about, milady?”

“Lucian Slater,” Blake replied calmly.

Ruelle’s heart seemed to stop for a moment as the realisation sank in. Her pulse quickened; she hadn’t forgotten his cold gaze on her. The dark-haired Elite, who had already dismissed her as insignificant, the one who had looked at her with barely concealed contempt.

“If you’re hoping for a different roommate, you’ll have to check with the office,” Blake added, eyeing Ruelle with a trace of pity. “But don’t get your hopes up.”

Ruelle nodded weakly, her pulse quickening as dread settled over her. She knew the odds were slim. In a faint voice, she said, “I’ll check with the office.”

“I’ll come with you,” Hailey offered, but Ruelle quickly shook her head.

“No, Hailey. Stay here.” Ruelle’s eyes darted nervously to the shadows cast by the flickering lanterns in the hallway. “I don’t want you getting caught up in this if Alanna finds you with me.”

Blake’s presence was enough to keep Alanna at bay for now, and Ruelle didn’t want to endanger her friend. She offered a grateful bow to the vampiress. “Thank you for listening to us, Lady Blake.”

Without another word, Ruelle slipped into the vast, cold corridors of Sexton. The sound of her footsteps echoed off the cold stone walls, and the faint, wavering light of the lanterns did little to chase away the creeping unease growing in the pit of her stomach.

Every so often, she glanced over her shoulder, her skin prickling with the sensation of being watched. The few Elites that crossed her path didn’t hide their disdainful stares, their pale faces illuminated by the dim light as their crimson eyes followed her movements.

The eerie flicker of the lanterns cast unsettling shadows as she neared the worn door of the administration office. It creaked ominously as it opened, and inside, Mr. Mortis sat hunched over his desk, his skeletal fingers flipping through a stack of old parchments.

“Good evening, Mr. Mortis,” Ruelle greeted him with a respectful bow, her voice wavering slightly.

“Miss Belmont,” Mortis replied without looking up, his voice dry as parchment. “You aren’t here to request to leave Sexton again, I hope. Two students tried that and found themselves leaving… permanently.” He placed the parchment down, his bony fingers stilling as his cold eyes finally met hers.

Recovering from the chill of his words, Ruelle quickly replied, “No, I’m not here to leave. I… I wanted to see the list of students who don’t have roommates.”

Mortis arched a brow, clearly unamused. “To switch rooms? We don’t have any vacancies among the Groundlings.”

“I meant the Elites,” she clarified, her voice barely above a whisper.

His eyebrows subtly raised at her words, but without question, he turned towards one of the filing cabinets. Pulling out a parchment, he laid it on the desk before her, and Ruelle stepped closer. She skimmed through the names, her breath catching in her throat as picked up the page.

Only five names—and all male.

Before she could process the implications, a familiar voice broke the silence. “Looking for a benefactor?”

Ruelle turned sharply to see Dane Slater, his blond hair gleaming under the lantern’s light, his lips curved in that sly smile she had come to associate with trouble.

“Mr. S,” she greeted quickly, bowing slightly.

“Hello, Ruelle,” he said, his voice warm but with that ever-present edge of mischief. His eyes slid down to the parchment in her hand. “Interesting list.”

Ruelle explained, “”I need to move rooms. My roommate and I… don’t get along. She stole something of mine and gave it to an Elite vampiress who now… might be looking to harm me.”

Dane hummed thoughtfully, nodding as if the story were only mildly entertaining. He took the parchment from her hand, scanning the names with a murmur. “Let’s see…”

“The first one’s a third-year. He likes experimenting on his human roommates. The last one… his roommate didn’t leave the room the same way he entered. Volunteered,

he said.” His lips quirked up in amusement before he moved on. “Then there’s Kane, second-year. He’s a fan of letting his guests feed on humans at his parties. Very social.”

Ruelle’s stomach churned.

“Anthony Meyer’s next. He’s got a… fascination with dolls. Likes to dress up his human roommates.” Dane smirked, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “And lastly, Cedric Thorn. His roommate was found in the woods. Just bones.”

Ruelle felt her heart race, each name bringing her a step closer to a nightmare. None of these options seemed safe–they all felt like death sentences.

Firstly, they were male, and secondly, they were Elites—all dangerous vampires. She muttered anxiously, “There are no safe options.”

“Well, there’s one name left,” Dane said smoothly, his voice dropping to a murmur as his eyes flicked to the last name on the list. “Lucian’s the safest of them all.”

Ruelle’s heart faltered, and she asked, “Lucian? Hasn’t he… killed people before? It isn’t a good idea.”

Dane smirked, clearly not taking her concern seriously. “Well, if someone deserves it, it’s not really murder, is it?” His tone was teasing, but something cold lurked beneath his words. “No one will bother you with him around. Sleep easy.”

Her lips parted to respond, but before she could, Dane turned on his heel. “Come with me.”

“Mr. S, wait—” Ruelle hesitated, panic bubbling up in her chest. “Isn’t there a shed I could—”

“It’s temporary,” Dane called back over his shoulder, waving her forward as he led her deeper into the twisting halls of Sexton. “Temporary… until someone flees. Or dies.”

Ruelle’s heart pounded as she followed Dane, her steps light but her thoughts racing. The corridors grew quieter, the flickering lights dimmer. When they finally reached the narrow passage leading to Lucian’s room, Dane stopped abruptly.

“Wait here,” he said, his voice soft, almost kind.

Ruelle nodded stiffly, watching as Dane strode confidently toward Lucian’s door. Her heart pounded as her eyes darted to the cold lanterns above. He knocked twice, and the door creaked open. And though she couldn’t see him, she could imagine Lucian’s mood. She strained to hear, but the words were too soft for her to hear at the distance she stood.

Dane grinned infuriatingly wide and began, “A student needs a room—”

“No.” Lucian’s response was immediate.

Dane, undeterred, leaned lazily against the doorframe, his grin widening as though Lucian’s annoyance only fuelled his amusement. He teased, “You didn’t even let me finish.”

“I don’t care what you were going to say. The answer is no.” Lucian’s voice was sharp. It was the kind of voice that made others flinch and the temperature drop. He knew his brother too well; that grin of Dane’s meant trouble, and Lucian had no intention of letting himself be roped into whatever scheme Dane was hatching.

Dane sighed dramatically, tilting his head as if feigning disappointment. “That’s not very nice, Lucian. The instructor for Interspecies Coexistence might be less than pleased to hear you refused that request.”

“I. Don’t. Care.” Lucian’s words were clipped and biting. “Go find someone else. Or better yet, take the student in yourself. I’m sure your room’s just as empty.”

Dane chuckled, low and soft, before replying, “I would, if it were allowed. But, alas… student-teacher rooming is forbidden. Especially when it involves a young, human woman.”

At that, Lucian’s entire demeanour shifted. His voice dropped lower, dripping with venom, “I’ll kill the human and leave the body in your room then.”

Dane, undeterred, only smiled wider. “Now, now… I do love it when you get into specifics.” Before Lucian could slam the door, he casually placed a hand against it, holding it open with the ease of someone who had done this a hundred times before. “She’s in desperate need to switch rooms,” his voice softening slightly. “And it doesn’t seem like she’s eager to room with you, either. She wouldn’t be here if she wasn’t in some kind of trouble.”

Lucian’s glare hardened, his patience wearing thin. He replied, “Good. Then she can stay wherever she is. Problem solved. Now, get away from my door.”

“It is a temporary stay,” Dane said smoothly, turning his head ever so slightly to glance at the person in question.

Lucian’s irritation deepened. He stepped forward, his movements menacing, but as he followed Dane’s gaze, his eyes finally locked onto the girl standing at the end of the corridor.

She stood there, hands clasped nervously in front of her, staring up at the ceiling as if studying the faint architectural details adorning the corridor. Her face was a picture of quiet anxiety, her fingers subtly fidgeting. In that moment, she remained oblivious to their gazes on her.

Lucian’s expression grew even colder, if that were possible, and he growled, “Absolutely not.”

If looks could kill, Dane wouldn’t merely be six feet under—he’d be in the deepest pits of hell for daring to propose such a favour from Lucian.

Lucian’s grip on the door tightened, his fingers curling around the edge with enough force to leave an imprint. He was a second away from slamming it shut on his brother’s face, uncaring if the dent left behind resembled Dane’s smug cheekbones.

A flicker of amusement passed over Dane’s face, barely contained beneath his calm exterior. His voice was light, the words hanging in the air like smoke. “I could’ve found someone else,” he began, “but everyone available will most certainly harm her.”

Lucian’s eyes narrowed, his patience wearing dangerously thin, “That’s not my problem. It’s hers, and now yours.”

Dane raised an eyebrow and asked, “Shouldn’t my problems be your problems, brother dear?”

Lucian’s response was clipped, “I suppose it’s time to disown you.”

Dane straightened, his smile softening. “I understand how you feel about humans, Lucian. Truly. But it would be a shame if something happened to her.” His next words were careful, almost tender, each syllable placed with the precision of someone navigating through shattered glass. “I’m not trying to dig up old wounds. But you and I both know… the feeling of not being able to do something lingers far longer than the moment itself.”

Lucian’s jaw clenched, the flicker of something dark passing through his red eyes, but he remained silent. His expression hardened, his fists clenched at his sides as Dane’s words burrowed deep, scratching at the old wounds he had buried beneath layers of rage.

“She just needs a place to stay for a while,” Dane’s voice softened further, almost coaxing. “It’s temporary, Lucian. She won’t cause any trouble.”

Lucian looked back at Ruelle, still standing at the end of the corridor, completely unaware of the silent war raging within his mind. The silence that followed swallowed everything.

Finally, Lucian bit out his response, each syllable laced with venom and reluctance, “Fine. But only until a space opens up. Once it does—”

“I’ll take her off your hands,” Dane interjected smoothly, his grin widening with triumph. His eyes glimmered with the victory, only to receive a scowl from Lucian in return. And before his brother could change his mind, he quickly turned, and called down the hall.

“Ruelle, your stay has been arranged.”

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