Chapter 40: The mix to run and prey

“Feigned innocence.”

Lucian’s words replayed in Ruelle’s mind, echoing with an intensity that lingered long after they had left his lips. The rest of the dinner hour had drifted past in a fog, with Hailey and Kevin animatedly discussing their latest class, their voices faint against her thoughts.

She couldn’t help but question how Lucian knew. Who had seen them? Had someone told him? And if they had, could they be sitting here now? Her gaze flitted around the wide dining room, scanning familiar faces that now seemed unfamiliar, cloaked in possible judgement. Two students looked at her as she passed, their glances brief yet lingering just enough to send a chill down her spine.

“You may have fooled others… but not me.”

Ruelle wished she knew why Lucian despised her. Beneath the table, her fingers twisted together, tense at the memory of his rejection. She had reached out before she had even realised it—a reflexive gesture—only to be scorched in return. His response had burnt her like an open flame, leaving her raw and blistered.

Her gaze drifted across the dining hall again, and her eyes caught on a figure seated at the Elite table. Alanna. She was watching her with an unnervingly twisted smile, and Ruelle quickly looked back at her friends. She hadn’t forgotten the vampiress she had stabbed, who was waiting for her chance for revenge.

“…next week, and I’m already stressing,” Hailey said, breaking through Ruelle’s haze, her chin resting on the table.

“Clever timing, if you ask me,” Kevin sighed, pushing his plate aside. “They had never scheduled this kind of thing in winter before—but blood’s easier to store on ice. And you women are luckier than us men. It is just a heated needle through the lobe for you. We get the, uh, ’direct extraction method.’” He grimaced, as though imagining it.

“Did you decide when or how you want to do it, Ruelle?” Hailey turned to ask her.

Ruelle shook her head and replied, “Not yet. I am not good with being pricked with needles.” She loved knitting fabrics, but knowing something sharp was about to pierce her skin felt entirely different.

“Not exactly optional,” Kevin muttered, leaning back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. “We are here to keep Elites and Halflings well-fed. Unless you are one of the few ’lucky’ ones… you know, picked to become a Halfling.”

“Right—bonded to a sire, blood-bound for life. I mean, I get why some of them want it, but I don’t know if that’s any better than being human,” Hailey said, puffing one side of her cheek.

Ruelle wondered if becoming a Halfling was any better. She knew there were students who longed for it, seeing it as an escape or even an honour, a way to rise above the human ranks.

“Honestly, I’d take it,” Kevin said, his voice almost wistful. “Being bonded comes with benefits—protection, privileges. Opportunities open up with the possibility of advancement through the ranks.”

“Life as a Halfling…” Ruelle murmured. She noticed something caught Hailey’s attention, and she turned in the same direction.

“What is with all the whispering?” Hailey asked, craning her neck to look at the group of students murmuring with serious expressions.

One of the nearby humans turned towards them and whispered, “Word is that June Clifford from first year is missing.”

“Missing?” Ruelle asked, her eyebrows furrowing.

“Her mother came by today, looking for her,” the student explained. “Apparently, June hasn’t been seen since Saturday. Her family thought she had come back here early.”

Hailey scoffed, muttering under her breath, “Probably ran into a bear on her way here.” Ruelle wondered what might have happened to June.

Kevin’s eyes brightened with sudden curiosity, and he said, “Wait, if June’s really gone, then does that mean Ruelle might get her room back?” His voice held a hint of hope.

Hailey gave him a pointed look. “Have you forgotten about Alanna? It wouldn’t be safe for Ruelle to live alone with Alanna stalking the corridors. Blake even said it’s better Ruelle stays with Lucian for now. Alanna would never dare set foot near his door.”

“Right. Because staying with Lucian is a real comfort,” Kevin’s lips pressing into a thin line. “He has contributed to quite a few students and even some staff paying a visit to the physician.”

“He has not hurt me, and Hailey is right…” Ruelle stated. Lucian’s words could cut deeply, but he kept his distance, barely acknowledging her presence. His mere existence seemed to hold others at bay.

On a late afternoon, the sky was ready to paint itself with a palette of reds and purples. The grounds buzzed with students—some seated, others standing, all eyes fixed on the maze, waiting for the last game of the day. Three games had unfolded since morning, each one leaving traces of sweat, dirt, and bruises on those who had played.

Ruelle stood close to Hailey and Kevin, who wore the fatigue of their own turns in earlier rounds. Hailey shifted uncomfortably, her gaze fixed on her bandaged elbow from a rough encounter earlier.

“Which side do you think you’ll end up on?” Kevin asked Ruelle, noticing her fidgeting as her turn approached.

She let out a soft sigh. “No clue…” The nerves were sinking in now, seeping into her like a slow chill.

“Just a heads up. Being hunted is about as fun as it sounds,” Hailey muttered, her voice low and wary. She winced as she glanced at her injury. “Especially when Alanna’s on the other side. She was relentless… like she was targeting me.”

Kevin, limping on his sprained ankle, gave a half-hearted laugh. He replied, “Yeah, hunting’s no better with Elites across from you. They’re ruthless. You barely have time to react.”

Ruelle’s shoulders tensed. She said, “I just thought we would get more practice before something like this…” The coming evening worried her—the darker it got, the more advantage the vampires would hold.

Around them, other students chatted nervously or watched the gathering staff, who had come view the game since morning, their expressions lit with amusement. Sexton seemed to enjoy dangling humans before the vampires, like rabbits before wolves, thought Ruelle to herself.

Kevin nudged her subtly. He whispered, “Looks like your roommate’s in this batch too.”

Ruelle followed his gaze to where Lucian stood, seemingly undisturbed by the crowd or the tension. He looked as if he were preparing for a casual walk rather than a hunt, unarmed right now among those carrying daggers and other weapons.

“Today’s final game is about to begin!” Mr. Jinx’s voice rang loud and clear on the field with authority. “In this round, the stakers will search the maze for a raven’s feather. The hunters will intercept, prevent, and, if necessary, bring the stakers down. No mercy, no hesitation.” His words cut through the air like a blade. “This is your chance to prove yourselves, to showcase either your skill in combat or your cunning in evasion.”

Ruelle swallowed, her pulse quickening as she listened to the names being called out.

“Cecelia Moroi. Hunter.”

“Michael Lennon. Staker.”

“Lucian Slater. Staker.”

Her gaze darted to Lucian, who remained stone-faced. He didn’t look her way or even acknowledge the whispers of the students. He looked almost detached.

More names followed, each raising her pulse further. She felt a prickle of nerves, and finally, Mr. Jinx called, “Ruelle Belmont. Staker.”

Her heart sank and rose all at once as she stepped forward. The odds didn’t seem in their favour—just a handful of humans against the Halflings and Elites surrounding them.

Once the last of the students were sorted, the stakers were the first to step into the maze, their figures quickly swallowed by towering hedges and shadows cast by the low-hanging sun. Lucian was leading the team, his gaze fixed with a concentration that bordered on cold detachment.

“Split up and cover as much ground as possible. Keep quiet, stay focused, and don’t get in each other’s way,” Lucian said calmly, which were sharp enough to catch everyone’s attention.

For a brief moment, his gaze landed on Ruelle, lingering with a strange intensity that left her unsure if he was assessing her or silently reminding her to stay out of trouble. There was something piercing in his look, a silent warning she couldn’t decipher. Without another word, he turned, blending into the shadows with practiced ease.

Ruelle could hear footsteps fade as she ventured further into the maze. Having navigated this place a few times before, she had been prepared to face it confidently, yet with the sun dipping lower, the maze and woods felt foreign. Her pulse raced, and she tightened her grip on the dagger, eyes scanning for any movement.

Emerging from the maze and into the woods, the stillness settled in, amplifying the sound of her heartbeat in her ears. She didn’t let herself stop—pausing now meant becoming prey. She darted between trees, her focus sharp, her mind attuned to every faint rustle or snap of a twig. Then, in the corner of her eye, something moved on a nearby branch. A raven. Its feathers gleamed in the dimming light, dark as midnight.

Ruelle held her breath, counting her steps as she approached the tree, her hand reaching out as if the bird might somehow sense her intentions. But before she could close the distance, a vampiress from the opposing team appeared behind her with a swift, menacing step.

“AHH!” The vampiress lunged, her face twisted in determination, arms reaching out to tackle her.

Ruelle spun on her heel, her stake raised and poised to strike. But her footing faltered, and she stumbled back, her heart freezing as she caught sight of the vampiress closing in.

Crap! She cursed in her mind.

Suddenly, two pale hands appeared from behind the vampiress, clamping on either side of her head in one quick, practiced motion. With a light twist, the vampiress crumpled to the ground, utterly motionless.

Ruelle’s eyes widened, her breath caught in her throat. D—Dead?! But… vampires didn’t die that easily, did they? Her mind raced, uncertain, until she saw Lucian emerge from the shadows, his gaze steady and calm, his expression unreadable.

“Do you have any survival instincts at all?” he asked, his voice cool but laced with irritation, which only deepened the flush of embarrassment in her cheeks.

“I—I tripped,” she managed, her voice wavering as she glanced back at the tree. The raven had taken flight, startled by the commotion. “I nearly had it under control.”

“Clearly,” Lucian muttered. His tone was indifferent, but his gaze flickered to her ankle, assessing. “Perhaps sitting on the sidelines would be safer—since you’ve a knack for inviting trouble.”

Ruelle’s cheeks warmed, her pride stinging under his scrutiny. He thought she was weak. It was clear in every detached word he spoke. With the threat gone for now, she replied, “I’m fine now. Thank you for that… intervention. I can manage from here.”

She held his gaze for a moment, lips pressing into a thin line, before she finally turned away. She wasn’t about to let him speak all those harsh things like before.

As she moved away, his voice followed her, calm and steady. “Not that it’s my concern,” he began, his tone as flat as ever, “but you’re heading in the wrong direction.”

Her lips pressed together tightly, and she muttered, “I’ll find my own way.”

Lucian sighed, his patience seemingly thinning, though his voice remained smooth. “You’re heading towards the dead side of the forest. You won’t find any birds or feathers there.”

“I don’t need your help,” she muttered, the sting of his earlier words still raw, fuelling her defiance. “Next thing I know, you’ll accuse me of manipulating you for a favour.” She quickened her pace, hoping to put some distance between them.

Just then, a shadow swept across her path—a vampire from the opposing team. His lips parted in a wicked grin, fangs glinting in the fading light as he loomed towards her, eyes fixed as though she were prey.

“A Groundling…” he sneered, his voice thick with menace. “You will make a fine snack.”

Ruelle swung her dagger reflexively, but instead of slicing the palm, the dagger got stuck in the person’s hand deep enough that she didn’t have the opportunity to take it back. The shock in his expression turned to fury. He hissed, his eyes narrowing with murderous intent.

Lucian clicked his tongue, and Ruelle didn’t know if it was for her or the vampire with them. He stepped forward, his movements unhurried yet deliberate, his gaze fixed on the opponent.

“You were saying something about a snack?” He drawled, his voice low, edged with cold amusement.

The vampire’s gaze flickered in recognition, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Lucian Slater. Makes it easy then—I’ll just drain her right here. Isn’t that what you would prefer too?”

“Perhaps another day. But for now, how about you get down on your knees?” Lucian replied calmly.

With a low growl, the vampire lunged towards Lucian, claws extended. But Lucian sidestepped with a fluidity that made it seem effortless, his hand flashing out to strike the opponent squarely in the side, sending him staggering back.

Recovering quickly, the vampire snarled, swiping his claws towards Lucian’s face. But Lucian’s hand clamped around the vampire’s wrist with brutal force. The crack of bone echoed through the woods as Lucian twisted sharply, bending the arm backward. The vampire gasped, eyes widening in pain as Lucian shoved him to his knees.

“How disappointing. I had expected better reflexes,” he murmured, sounding almost bored as he studied the vampire.

Ruelle watched, half stunned, as Lucian let go of the vampire’s hand, who was groaning in pain from the broken wrist. But their opponent was stubborn and turned in one last desperate attempt to swing at Lucian.

Lucian slammed the person into the ground, pressing down with a boot on his spine, effectively pinning him. The vampire let out a muffled curse, but his struggles quickly grew weaker, his face now a bloodied mess against the dirt.

“I recommend you consider your place,” he murmured icily, releasing him with a final shove that left the vampire crumpled, barely conscious.

Lucian turned back to Ruelle, brushing the dust from his hands with an air of calm indifference. His expression remained impassive, though a glint of amusement sparked in his gaze as he took in her wide-eyed expression.

“Clumsy,” Lucian remarked, his tone as cool as ever, “but at least you didn’t fall this time.”

A soft rustling in the branches caught their attention. Looking to the side, Ruelle noticed the raven perched gracefully.

“Let me get it…” she whispered.

Ruelle reached out, moving with a slow, cautious grace, and the bird watched her, unmoving. With careful steps, she lifted her hand, her fingers brushing against its feathers. To her surprise, the raven didn’t flinch. Instead, it seemed to soften under her touch, letting her cradle it gently. The raven blinked back at her with its dark eyes.

Behind her, Lucian observed her. Noting how she was no longer the clumsy human fumbling with her dagger. He murmured,

“Hold it steady,” stepping closer. He plucked a single feather from the raven. When she loosened her hold, the raven lifted off into the darkening sky, while Lucian dropped the feather in her open palm.

Seeing Lucian walk in the opposite direction of the entrance, Ruelle blinked, caught off guard. She asked hesitantly,

“Wait… aren’t you going to submit it?”

“Do with it what you want. I have no interest in it,” he replied calmly, disappearing into the shadows without another word.

Once the feather was handed to Mr. Mortis, finally the horn was blown, signalling the end of the game. Ruelle noticed most of the people who were hanging around earlier had already left, and so had the staff.

Just when she was making her way towards where her friends stood, one of the guards appeared and informed her, “Ms. Belmont. You have been summoned to Mr. Oak’s office right away.” What did the head of Sexton want from her?

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep