Chapter 143 143
They were back on the highway again, the car devouring miles without pause. Damien drove without stopping, eyes fixed ahead, hands steady on the wheel.
Jacqueline stole glances at him every so often quick, fleeting looks from beneath her lashes.
By evening, he finally pulled into a gas station. The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly in the dimming sky. He stepped into the convenience store and returned with snacks.
Mathieu thanked him shyly, and the siblings began eating almost immediately. They were exhausted, hungry to the bone but Jacqueline was in agony.
She had been sitting upright for hours, stiff as a plank. Her back burned as if someone had pressed hot iron against her skin. Every small shift sent a fresh wave of pain through her.
She held out a packet of biscuits toward Damien. He was still driving and hadn’t eaten anything.
His eyes flickered toward her, met hers briefly, then darted back to the road. He took two without a word and crunched into them.
The exchange felt oddly awkward.
She turned back to her own snack, chewing quietly.
Damien found himself wondering why she had gone so silent. He had grown accustomed to her endless chatter the teasing, the banter, the way she filled empty spaces without even trying.
Her constant talking had made the silence around him feel less oppressive.
He didn’t know what the hell he was thinking.
Julien deserved to die. Damien would make sure of it. Not immediately but eventually. The bastard would answer for every sin he had committed.
Damien would see to that personally.
He could have kept them safe in the city. He had the means. But he hadn’t wanted to risk it not when it came to her.
And he had no damn idea why he felt so fiercely protective of Jacqueline.
Maybe because he had witnessed it. The brutality. The horror.
It was seared into his memory.
Yet he still couldn’t fully read her. She seemed like an open book bright, expressive, easy to understand but that wasn’t true at all. There were layers beneath layers. Hidden depths. Quiet resilience.
And the more he sensed those unseen parts of her, the more he felt drawn toward her compelled to peel back each layer and discover who she truly was.
As the landscape shifted and familiar roads began to appear, his chest tightened.
He hadn’t returned in a long time.
Dominique had opposed the idea of bringing Jacqueline and Mathieu to the packhouse. He had suggested eliminating Julien outright. But that would have been too simple. Too quick.
Dominique was concerned about the pack about how they would react to two humans on their land.
Damien had reminded him that their own mother was human.
Still, Dominique hadn’t liked it.
The siblings didn’t even know that shifters existed. Keeping that secret would not be easy. But Damien wasn’t planning to house them inside the packhouse itself only in the smaller home just a few steps away from it.
He noticed Jacqueline watching him from the corner of her eye. He also noticed how rigid she sat, never once leaning back against the seat.
It must hurt like hell.
Without warning, Damien leaned toward her, catching her completely off guard. She gasped softly.
He reached down and pulled the lever beside her seat. It reclined backward.
His hand brushed against her thigh in the process, and she tensed instantly.
He straightened again, settling back into his own seat. She stared at him wide-eyed, as if startled by the sudden closeness.
“You’re injured,” he muttered gruffly. “Lie sideways.”
Jacqueline blinked at him, then glanced over her shoulder. Mathieu was already asleep, curled against the window. Even Coco seemed unusually quiet.
She turned back toward Damien. His focus was firmly on the road, as if the moment had meant nothing.
A small smile tugged at her lips.
Carefully, she shifted. She slipped off her shoes and turned onto her side, facing him. The new position eased the strain on her back. Her muscles loosened slightly.
Within minutes, sleep crept over her, heavy and merciful.
—
“Hey.”
A gentle nudge touched her shoulder.
She groaned, pain flaring before her eyes fluttered open and met his.
“We’re here,” Damien said, stepping back.
She sat up slowly, wincing, then stepped out of the car. Mathieu was already outside, holding Coco’s cage carefully.
Jacqueline looked around.
It was late very late. The street was quiet, almost deserted. A row of small double-story houses lined the road. At the very end stood a much larger house, almost mansion-like in structure.
“Come,” Damien said as he unlocked the door and ushered them inside. Once they stepped in, he shut and locked it behind them.
“This was the best I could manage,” he muttered.
“It’s nice,” Jacqueline replied softly, taking in the furnished interior. It was far more put together than his place back in the city.
“You hungry?” he asked.
They both shook their heads.
“Take whichever room you want.”
They nodded.
Mathieu placed Coco’s cage carefully on a nearby table before wandering into the first room he saw. He collapsed face-first onto the bed and sighed loudly.
“My body’s stiff,” he grumbled.
Jacqueline followed him in and sat beside him.
“Aren’t you going to ask why we’re here?” she asked gently.
He hadn’t questioned her. Not once. It unsettled her.
She didn’t want him swallowing everything in silence.
“To keep you safe from Dad,” he mumbled, the words heavy and sad.
Her gaze dropped to her hands.
Mathieu shifted, then rested his head in her lap. She smiled faintly and began combing her fingers through his hair.
Within five minutes, he was asleep.
With care, she eased his head onto the pillow and stood up slowly, suppressing a hiss of pain.
When she stepped back into the living area, she found Damien standing in the center of the room, staring straight ahead.
He looked… strange. Focused. Intense. As if he were speaking to someone she couldn’t see.
Then he closed his eyes briefly.
When he opened them, they locked directly onto hers.
She swallowed and looked away first.
“Which room is yours?” she asked politely.
“The one next to Mathieu’s,” he replied.
She nodded, mentally deciding to choose one on the first floor instead.
“The kitchen’s fully stocked,” he added. “You can look around in the morning.”
She nodded again and turned to leave.
“I’m heading out,” he said suddenly. “I’ll be back soon.”
Another nod.
He moved toward the door.
“Damien.”
He stilled at the sound of his name spoken so softly.
There was something in her tone gentle, warm that made him tense.
He looked at her over his shoulder.
“Thank you,” she whispered, a soft smile curving her lips.
He gave her a brief nod.
Then he left.