Claimed by the vampire prince

Chapter 336: Chapter 336

She blinked once. Twice. Again and again, half-expecting the vision to vanish, to dissolve into cruel imagination born of exhaustion and sadness.

But every time she opened her eyes, he was still there. freeweɓnovel.cѳm

A dizzy wave of relief crashed over her so suddenly that she swayed, lightheaded, excitement surging through her like an uncontrollable current. The wooden horse slipped from her numb fingers and struck the floor, forgotten as she surged into action.

She nearly tripped in her haste, skirts tangling around her legs, but she didn’t slow. She barely noticed the sting in her lungs or the way the corridor blurred as she rushed through it. She did not care how it looked, did not care that servants paused mid-step to stare as she flew past them, her hair loose, smile wide.

She crossed the main entrance just as Ragnar brought his horse to a halt.

The cold air bit at her skin as she stepped outside, but she hardly felt it. He swung down from the saddle with familiar ease, and then he was standing there, solid and real.

Circe stopped short, eyes wide, mouth parted in disbelief.

"You came back?" Her voice trembled as the words left her. "You’re alive."

Ragnar’s answering smile was wide and devastatingly warm, all charm and reassurance as he spread his arms in a silent invitation.

That was all it took. She ran to him.

She collided with him hard enough that it would have knocked him back a step had he not braced himself. Her arms wrapped around him, clutching at his coat as though he might vanish if she let go. She held him as tightly as she could, fingers digging in, breath coming in shallow gasps.

"You came back," she said again, the words tumbling out between unsteady breaths. "I can’t believe you came back."

He chuckled softly, even as her grip grew almost painfully tight. "I told you I would," he said. "Did you doubt me?"

She shook her head, burying her face against his chest, breathing him in like she had been starving for the scent of him.

"You have no idea how worried I was," she murmured. "I’m so glad you’re safe."

"I’m glad too," Ragnar replied, one hand coming up to stroke her back in slow, gentle motions. "You’re trembling. Come, we should go inside. You need to warm up."

She nodded, though the trembling had nothing to do with the cold. It was the aftermath, the release of fear, of helplessness, of the endless hours spent imagining the worst. Still, she followed him willingly, unwilling to let go as they stepped back into the manor together.

The warmth wrapped around them almost immediately as the doors shut behind them, muffling the distant sounds of the courtyard. Ragnar kept an arm securely around her as they climbed the grand staircase.

They entered their chambers, the door closing softly behind them. Ragnar glanced down at her then, his brows drawing together as he took her in properly, how pale she looked, how her fingers trembled where they clutched the front of his coat. His gaze drifted past her to the untouched plates laid out on the table.

The smile he had worn outside faded into something more serious.

"You didn’t eat," he said, concern threading his voice.

She hesitated before shaking her head. "I couldn’t."

Ragnar exhaled slowly through his nose and guided her toward a settee. He sat first, then gently pulled her down beside him, one arm firm and steady at her back. For a moment, he said nothing, simply held her as though he could absorb some of the weight she carried.

"I’m sorry for frightening you like that," he murmured at last. "It was never my intention."

Circe shook her head sharply, eyes hardening. None of this had been his fault, not the arrest, not the false accusations against him, not the queen’s machinations. He should not be apologizing to her, and she told him as much.

"Don’t ever apologize for things that were done to you," she said firmly, "or for things that were never your fault to begin with."

He should have been angry. He had every right to be, furious at the injustice, at the humiliation, at the danger he had been put through.

Her expression softened then, and she reached up to cup his jaw, thumb brushing gently along his short beard.

"I thought I would lose you," she admitted, her voice breaking despite her efforts for it not to. "Every hour felt longer than the last. I kept telling myself you would come back, but—"

"But nothing," Ragnar interrupted quietly. "I am here now. That is all that matters." He looked into her eyes. "They did not break me. They will not take me from you."

Her breath shuddered out of her, and whatever restraint she had been clinging to finally slipped away as she leaned into him.

She leaned forward, pressing her forehead to his in the same familiar way he often did when he wanted to comfort her. The contact was gentle, intimate, an unspoken exchange of comfort that needed no words.

"I felt so useless," she whispered. "I never want to feel that way ever again."

She hesitated, then after a few seconds added softly, almost guiltily, "I wanted to go after you."

"I know," he said, and there was a faint smile woven into his voice. "They told me."

Her lips curved up, her cheek tinged red with embarrassment. "I didn’t listen when you asked me to stay put," she admitted, sounding sheepish now, her eyes dropping briefly before lifting back to his.

"You did the opposite," he replied, amused. "You reminded them exactly who I’d be answering to if I didn’t return."

That earned a small laugh from her.

"Are you truly safe?" she asked, more quickly. "I won’t wake tomorrow and find more royal guards outside waiting for you?"

"For now," Ragnar answered honestly, not offering false comfort. "I don’t know what may happen next. But I’m safe enough to come home."

She studied his face for a moment, then nodded, accepting the truth of his words for what it was. Slowly, the tension drained from her shoulders, and she finally allowed herself to relax against him. Her head came to rest on his shoulder.

He pressed a kiss into her hair, lingering there longer than necessary, breathing her in, holding her the way he wanted while he waited in that prison cell.

"I promised you," he murmured quietly. "No matter what happens, I will always find my way back to you."

This time, when she smiled, it was genuine.