Page 259 of Corrupting Camille
Three times.
Until his face is unrecognizable.
Until the floor is thick with blood and silence.
Until nothing is left of the man who touched my girl.
I stand slowly, chest heaving, drenched in sweat and crimson, and toss the gun aside.
The war is far from over.
But this battle is done.
And I won.
Camille
When I wake, I feel it first in my bones, the deep, aching heaviness of something that can never be undone.
My body hurts everywhere. Wrists raw. Ankles bruised. Skin sticky with blood that might not be mine. For a second, panic claws at my chest. But then a familiar scent surrounds me, dark and rich, edged in violence, unmistakably Kane…and I know I’m safe.
Even if safe now has a different meaning.
My eyes flutter open slowly, adjusting to the soft, low light of the bedroom. His bedroom. Back at the compound.
His hand tightens gently around mine, the other palm flat against my stomach, heavy and possessive. When I glance up, he’s already watching me, eyes dark, haunted, jaw tight enough to shatter bone.
He says nothing.
Just breathes.
“Is it over?” I whisper.
A flicker passes across his face, something ruthless and stark, but he nods. “He’s gone.”
Not dead. Gone. As if Kane didn’t just take his life but erased his entire existence.
My breath shakes. “Good.”
I turn my head slightly, pressing my face into his chest, breathing him in until my lungs stop trembling.
“Did he…”
“No,” Kane cuts in immediately, voice dark, absolute. “He didn’t.”
“But you did,” I whisper quietly, tracing a small scar along his shoulder, avoiding his gaze. “You killed him.”
“Yes.” He doesn’t hesitate. No remorse. Just a simple, brutal truth. “Slowly.”
The quiet satisfaction in his voice should scare me. And maybe it does, a little. But the part of me that he’s awakened, the part he’s carved out and reshaped to fit him, only feels relief.
I don’t say anything else for a long time. Neither does he.
But he holds me. Strokes my hair. Kisses my temple with quiet reverence. And each touch slowly erases the ghosts that cling to my skin.
Eventually, he breaks the silence, voice rougher, lower. “I shouldn’t have let this happen.”
“You didn’t,” I say firmly, shifting until I can look into his eyes. “They did.”
