Chapter 187 187
“He’s not worth it,” Damien said quietly, his deep voice steady despite the storm raging inside him.
Jacqueline blinked up at him, her large brown eyes shimmering with a pain so raw it felt like a blade twisting through his chest.
“I… I… I want to kill him…” she stuttered, her voice trembling with desperation, almost pleading.
Damien slowly shook his head.
It took every ounce of strength he possessed to hold himself together. His wolf was raging beneath the surface, clawing violently to be released, growling for blood demanding the chance to tear that bastard apart with his own teeth.
But at the same time, another part of him ached deeply for the broken girl standing in front of him.
“I know,” he murmured softly.
His voice dropped lower as he lifted his hand and gently wiped the tears sliding down her cheeks.
“You’re too precious… too pure,” he continued calmly. “I won’t let you stain your hands with this bastard’s blood.”
Her brows knitted together in confusion.
“Y-you… why…?” she stammered weakly as her vision blurred with fresh tears.
“You wouldn’t be able to live with it,” Damien whispered.
More tears spilled down her face.
“I will live with it,” she insisted stubbornly, her voice suddenly firm despite the trembling in her body.
Damien shook his head again, gently but firmly.
“You think you’ll g-get away after killing me?” Julien rasped hoarsely from behind them, struggling for breath.
Damien didn’t even glance at him.
All of his attention remained fixed on Jacqueline.
“You’d be giving him an easy death,” Damien said quietly. “And I’ve prepared something far more fitting for him.”
His gaze shifted toward the second door in the room.
At that exact moment, the door creaked open.
A massive man stepped inside.
He was tall, heavily muscled, and dark-skinned. A jagged scar stretched across his face, running from his eyebrow down to his jaw, giving him an even more intimidating appearance.
“He’s Tomás,” Damien said calmly.
Julien’s face drained of color instantly.
“He finds pleasure in inflicting pain,” Damien continued evenly. “And his preference happens to be men.”
“N… no…” Julien stammered weakly.
For the first time, Jacqueline turned to look at him.
He was terrified.
She remembered saying those same words the first time he forced himself on her.
“Okay,” she whispered faintly.
She stepped away from Damien and began walking toward the door.
But Julien’s voice stopped her.
“No matter what happens to me,” he hissed bitterly, “remember this you’ll always be my whore. You’ll never get rid of my touch”
The rest of his words were cut off by the brutal crack of Damien’s fist slamming into his face.
Jacqueline forced herself to keep walking.
She stepped outside the room just as Tomás approached Julien.
Standing in the hallway, she could hear everything.
Julien’s screams began almost immediately.
He begged Tomás to stop. Begged him to let him go.
She had done the same once.
Begged. Pleaded. Cried.
But Julien had never listened.
Now he was simply getting a taste of the suffering he had forced her to endure.
Damien stood outside as well, several steps away from her.
He wanted to go to her.
Wanted to pull her into his arms and comfort her.
But he stopped himself.
The way she kept roughly wiping her tears away, the way she bit down on her trembling lip it was clear she was fighting to stay strong.
And from what he had learned about her, Jacqueline hated being pitied.
The screams continued for what felt like an eternity.
Eventually, they stopped.
The door opened.
Tomás stepped out, his entire body splattered with blood. He smelled like death itself.
He gave Damien a brief nod before walking away down the hallway.
Damien pushed the door open and walked back inside.
Jacqueline followed closely behind him.
Every ounce of strength she had was holding her together in that moment.
Julien was barely alive.
His wrists were bound to the table, his upper body slumped over its surface while the lower half of his body hung limply off the edge.
His entire body was carved with deep cuts, blood covering him from head to toe.
They stopped directly in front of him.
With immense effort, Julien lifted his head slightly so he could look at them.
Damien slowly pulled a gun from the holster at his side.
Jacqueline stared at the weapon in his hand.
His wolf was still howling inside him, desperate to rip Julien apart piece by piece.
But Damien couldn’t allow that.
Not now.
Not when revealing the truth about what he was might only shatter Jacqueline further.
Right now, her justice mattered more than his wolf’s thirst for vengeance.
Damien raised the gun and aimed it at Julien.
Blood trickled from Julien’s mouth as he struggled to breathe. One of his eyes had been sliced open, leaving only the other to stare at Jacqueline.
“W… whore… m-my… whore…” he wheezed weakly like a madman.
After losing Édith, Julien had lost his sanity entirely.
The first time he raped Jacqueline, he claimed he had seen Édith in her.
That twisted delusion had quickly turned into a sick obsession.
Édith had been the only person he ever truly cared for. When she died, something inside him broke. Seeing echoes of her in Jacqueline turned him into something monstrous.
He didn’t just violate her.
He tortured her.
Punished her simply for reminding him of someone he had lost.
“M… my… touch… all over y-you…”
A deafening gunshot exploded through the silent room.
Jacqueline jolted violently.
Her eyes widened in horror as Julien’s head fell sideways. A dark hole appeared between his eyebrows, and the light faded from his remaining eye.
He was dead.
Jacqueline stared at the lifeless body.
She had grown so accustomed to blood and suffering that the sight itself didn’t shock her.
For years she had believed Julien would be the one to kill her someday.
Yet now he was the one lying dead.
But instead of relief, something else crawled over her skin.
It felt as though ants were moving across her body.
Her breathing grew erratic as she began clawing frantically at her bandaged arms, her nails scraping against the fabric.
Julien’s words echoed endlessly in her mind.
You’ll always be my whore.
He was dead.
So why did she still feel his touch everywhere?
Damien turned toward her and his eyes widened in alarm.
Jacqueline had collapsed to the floor, scratching desperately at her own skin.
“Jacq!”
He rushed to her side, pulling her close.
But before he could say anything else, she grabbed his collar with trembling hands and crashed her lips against his.
The sudden kiss caught him completely off guard.
For a split second, he froze.
Then instinct took over, and he kissed her back fiercely.
He finally broke the kiss when she gasped for air.
“P… please…” she whispered weakly, gripping his collar tighter and pulling him closer.
“Please… r-remove his t-touch… please…”
Her voice shattered his heart.
She grabbed his hand and pressed it against her cheek, holding it there as if it were the only thing anchoring her to reality.
“P… please, D-Damien…” she cried brokenly. “I’m begging you… touch me… I d-don’t want to smell like him anymore…”
Tears streamed down her face.
“I can still feel his hands on me… Damien… please… I’m begging you… take his touch away… please…”