Chapter 166 166
Jacqueline was in the middle of setting the table for dinner when the front door slammed shut with a thunderous bang. The sharp sound made her hands jerk, and the utensils she was holding nearly slipped from her grasp. Her fingers tightened around them instinctively as her heart lurched into her throat.
For a single terrifying second, she thought Julien had found her.
Mathieu was still in his room.
Holding her breath, she stepped cautiously out of the kitchen. The tension drained from her shoulders the moment she saw Damien’s back near the door. He was slipping out of his shoes, kicking them carelessly beneath the bench.
Relief washed over her but it lasted only until he turned around.
Her breath caught.
Blood streaked his eyebrow, and the corner of his lip was split.
Concern instantly flooded her expression as she hurried toward him.
“What happened to you?” she asked softly, worry lacing every word.
His eyes flickered with something unreadable, something dark. His jaw locked tightly.
She lifted her hand to touch his face, but before her fingers could reach him, he caught her wrist midair and yanked it away. His grip tightened around it like iron.
“Don’t touch me,” he hissed.
She froze.
“You’re hurt,” she whispered carefully.
Her gaze moved over the blood on his face as though the sight of it pained her. Her brows drew together when she realized she couldn’t find an actual wound it was only blood smeared across his skin.
“You got into a fight?” Confusion filled her eyes as she took in his disheveled, dirt-streaked appearance.
She gasped when his grip suddenly tightened around her wrist.
“Why don’t you mind your own business?” he growled, crushing her wrist in his hold.
“Ahh Damien, stop!” she cried out, struggling to pull her hand free.
But he didn’t release her.
Tears welled in her eyes as she tried desperately to pry his fingers loose. His grip felt immovable, like steel clamped around her bones. With her free hand she began hitting his chest in frantic blows, but they had no effect on him at all.
For a horrifying moment, she thought he might actually crush her wrist.
“Stop! It hurts!” she cried, the pain becoming unbearable.
His mind had drifted back to Dominique’s words from earlier, the anger still boiling beneath his skin. Without realizing it, he was pouring that fury onto her.
Her sharp cry finally snapped him back to reality.
He released her instantly.
Jacqueline stumbled backward several steps, clutching her injured wrist tightly against her chest. She stared at him with wide, frightened eyes, like a startled fairy that had wandered too close to danger.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
The thought slammed into him.
He took a single step toward her.
She immediately took three steps back.
Fear flashed across her face. She tore her gaze away and hurried into the kitchen, leaving him standing there, stunned.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.
What the hell had he just done?
Grinding his teeth together, he stormed down the hallway and into his room, slamming the door hard behind him.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
His wolf paced restlessly in his mind while guilt and frustration tangled together inside his chest. He kept cursing himself for being such a complete asshole to her.
He had been furious after the confrontation with his brother.
And he had taken it out on her.
In the kitchen, Jacqueline wiped the tears from her cheeks. Slowly, she looked down at her wrist.
A bruise was already beginning to form.
Dark purplish fingerprints stood stark against her pale skin, mocking her.
Quietly, she slipped into her room and changed into a long-sleeved shirt. She had no makeup to hide something like that.
By the time she returned to the kitchen, Mathieu was just coming out of his room, shuffling sleepily.
She handed him a few things, and he happily helped her finish setting the table.
She had just sat down when Damien walked in and took his seat.
Jacqueline sat beside Mathieu and served her younger brother first. She could feel Damien’s gaze on her, heavy and constant, but she refused to look at him.
Mathieu started chatting excitedly about a new video game he had been playing.
“You wanna bet?” Jacqueline asked with an amused smile.
Mathieu rolled his eyes, and the two of them began debating animatedly over which one of them was the better player.
Damien said nothing.
He simply watched them.
She was the opposite of most people.
Whenever she was sad or hurting, she didn’t withdraw into silence.
Instead, she talked endlessly, smiling and laughing as if nothing was wrong.
His eyes drifted toward her wrist, but the sleeves of her shirt covered it completely. Still, he knew the bruise was there.
He knew he had caused it.
And the realization made him feel like absolute shit.
After dinner, Mathieu helped clear the table. While Jacqueline stood at the sink washing dishes, Damien approached the kitchen.
He leaned against the island beside her.
“I got into a fight with Dominique,” he said quietly. “I was pissed.”
She jumped slightly at the sound of his voice but quickly composed herself, keeping her attention on the dishes.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he continued, his tone calm.
“You don’t have to explain,” she murmured. “It’s alright.”
She placed the last plate aside, turned off the faucet, and dried her hands with a small towel.
Why was she so damn kind?
So forgiving. So naïve.
It irritated him endlessly.
How did someone like her survive in a world full of predators? Maybe that same innocence had already led to her downfall.
She shouldn’t have been so forgiving especially not toward someone like him.
He was one of the predators.
And she was prey.
He had never wanted to hurt her, but what happened today was a brutal reminder of how wrong he was for her.
“A small reminder,” she whispered suddenly.
She turned to face him.
“I’m human.”
For a heartbeat, Damien’s heart seemed to stop.
Did she know what he was?
Jacqueline slowly pushed back the sleeve of her shirt.
The ugly bruise on her wrist was fully visible now his fingerprints stamped across her skin like a cruel reminder of what he had done.
“Please don’t use your brutality on me again,” she said softly.
She pulled her sleeve back down and walked away, leaving him standing alone in the kitchen.
Damien dragged his fingers through his hair, staring down at the floor.
Guilt flooded through him.
He knew he had crossed a line.
Fuck.
She was so small. So fragile.
How the hell had he managed to hurt her like that?
If anything, her quiet words only made him feel worse.
Son, open the door.
Fernando’s voice echoed suddenly through the mind link.
Damien blinked in confusion.
What?
We’re at your door, son, Fernando replied, sounding almost bored.
Damien’s eyes widened.
He immediately walked toward the front door, already catching the familiar scent of his parents on the other side.
Opening the door, he quickly stepped outside and shut it behind him.
“What are you guys doing here?” he asked, completely baffled.