Claimed by the vampire prince

Chapter 313: Chapter 313

She didn’t wait for a response, turning instead and sauntering away towards another group of women.

Mina stared after her retreating figure, her mouth pinched into a thin, displeased line.

"You dislike her," Circe murmured, making sure to lower her voice once more. "Why?"

"She is entitled," Mina replied shortly, finally tearing her gaze away from Avarine.

"So are more than half the nobles I have met in my life," Circe said mildly. When Mina offered nothing further, she chose not to press the matter.

When Circe returned home late that evening, she walked into their chambers to find Ragnar already there, fresh from his bath, water droplets still clinging to his bare skin and tracing slow paths down the hard lines of his chest. His head lifted toward the door as it opened, and a smile immediately spread across his face the moment he caught sight of her. freeweɓnøvel.com

"How did your day go?" he asked lightly. "Fun, I hope."

Circe could hear the barely suppressed laughter in his voice. No doubt he was recalling that time at breakfast when she had first confessed how utterly inept she was at embroidery and considering her day had largely involved the very thing she despised, he was likely imagining just how catastrophically awful it had gone.

He would not be wrong.

"It went well, husband," she said dryly. "Thank you for asking."

Her lips pursed ever so slightly as she spoke, and Ragnar couldn’t help but find the expression incredibly adorable.

His smile only widened. "I would love to hear all about it."

She knew he said it to tease her, but it didn’t stop her stomach from fluttering wildly as he directed the full force of his charming smile at her. It wasn’t fair, she thought. She had never been the type to swoon, yet here she was, doing precisely that.

Circe closed the door behind her and crossed the room on silent feet.

"I made something for you," she said when she stopped in front of him.

"Did you?" Ragnar asked, genuine intrigue lighting his expression.

Suddenly, self-consciousness washed over her. Why wouldn’t it? She knew exactly how hideous the piece had turned out. Perhaps Avarine had been right after all.

Before she could lose her nerve, Circe nodded, pulling out the handkerchief she had worked on earlier that day. The soft fabric was folded into a neat square as she offered it to him.

Ragnar took it from her hand carefully and unfolded it, studying the design stitched into the cloth. For several long seconds, he said nothing and during that time, his smile barely wavered.

"Woah," he said at last. "I’ve never seen anything quite like it before. This design of a..." He trailed off, brow furrowing slightly as he realized that he didn’t actually know what he was looking at.

"It’s a bird," Circe supplied.

"Ah," he said quickly. "I thought as much. It’s truly stunning."

Circe glared at him. "I can tell when you’re lying."

Ragnar chuckled, wholly unrepentant and entirely unbothered by being caught.

"I love it," he said instead, carefully folding the handkerchief back into a square.

She crossed her arms over her chest, though the sharpness of her glare softened just a fraction. "It is hideous, and you are biased because I made it."

He stepped closer, invading her space so completely with his large presence. His voice dropped to that husky timbre that made her knees weak.

"Let me correct myself," he murmured. "I love it especially because you made it and I will cherish it forever."

Taking her hand, he pressed a kiss to the back of her palm.

***

Ragnar rode alongside Kostia as they passed through the estate gates. They turned onto the winding path that led away from the property when movement in the distance caught Ragnar’s attention.

He slowed his horse instinctively, turning just in time to see the vague outline of a figure slipping out of view.

He blinked and it was gone.

For a fleeting moment, doubt crept in. Had he imagined it? The glimpse had been so brief, so fleeting. But Ragnar trusted his instincts, and they were screaming now.

Something was wrong.

He brought his horse to a sharp halt. Ahead of him, Kostia did the same, turning with visible confusion. As Ragnar’s head guard, Kostia was usually stationed at the estate, overseeing security but in Casilo’s absence, he had seamlessly assumed several of the responsibilities of Ragnar’s right hand, including accompanying him on official outings.

"Your Highness?" Kostia asked. "Is something wrong?"

Ragnar’s gaze never left the spot where he had seen the figure disappear.

"Round up some guards," Ragnar said calmly, though tension coiled tightly beneath his words. "I want the entire surrounding area combed. Bring anyone you find straight to me."

Ragnar urged his horse forward, this time toward the place where the figure had vanished. His senses sharpened, his focus narrowing as he followed the faint trail, every instinct honed on the hunt. Someone had been skulking near his estate and Ragnar intended to find out who.

He didn’t need to turn back to know that Kostia had already moved to obey his command. The man was efficient and Ragnar trusted him to follow orders without hesitation.

Snow crunched sharply beneath his horse’s hooves as he pressed forward. His breath fogged slightly the air, eyes scanning the treeline with an intense focus. He urged his mount faster when a flicker of movement caught his attention again, this time close enough to make his pulse quicken.

The figure darted through the foliage, weaving between frost-laden branches in a desperate attempt to remain unseen. Ragnar caught the briefest glimpse of a coat and blond hair. The man was running with the reckless urgency of someone who knew he had been discovered

Ragnar leaned forward in the saddle and gave chase without hesitation, spurring his horse onward. Snow sprayed behind them as they raced ahead. The man could run but Ragnar would not let him escape.