Transmigrated Into The Body Of The Cursed Prince Wife-Chapter 269: "Kill him!"

(Long Chapter.)

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However, Caelan wouldn’t be caught running away—not until he’d settled some score with this bitch, who was glaring heatedly at him despite the fact that she was at his mercy.

She had fought like no other woman he had seen before, and that irked him because she was everything Selene wasn’t. He wanted his woman back, and he could only get her back through this rebellious soul residing in her body. He knew he should take the woman to his mother to end this war and kill Lucian, but he knew if he did that, he would not be getting back his Selene.

Tightening his grip on her hair until her eyes trembled in pain, he said slowly, "I will make this less excruciating if you tell me how to bring back Selene. Where is her soul?" he demanded coolly, his eyes flaring manically.

If she told him where she had sent his woman’s soul, he would get a witch—any witch, even one of those filthy dark witches his mother kept—to bring the soul back. She must have done something to switch their souls, and he would force her to undo it to bring Selene back. He didn’t like this bitch.

Ave scoffed at his question. Even if she knew where Selene’s soul was, she didn’t give a damn about the woman. "She’s dead!" she gritted out when he twisted her hair in his fingers and pulled at it like he wanted to rip it off her skull.

The man was cruel, just like his mother, and Ave knew he was foolish to come for her instead of escaping. His foolishness would make the history of his life repeat itself again, and she would do nothing to stop it because he deserved it!

"She’s dead..." he repeated with a humorless laugh that sent chills down her spine because his eyes seemed to take on a different shade, similar to the night creatures she’d seen in drawings. However, they turned brown again when he stopped laughing.

"Do you know what I will do to you if what you said just now happens to be the truth?" he questioned, bringing her face close to his, so close that his breath fell on her nose. She wanted to headbutt him to push his face away, but she feared the consequences, especially with his men standing guard at every angle.

When she didn’t reply and only continued to glare at him, he snarled, "I will ask you once again, and I swear, if your answer doesn’t satisfy me, you’re not going to like the outcome. The only reason I haven’t gutted you is because I believe only you can bring back my woman. Now tell me, where is my Selene? Where did you send her soul?" he asked, staring into her blue eyes, daring her to give him an unsatisfactory answer. She was the witch, and Selene was no witch; it could only mean the witch had done something to the harmless human.

Meeting his eyes without so much as blinking, Ave smirked. "She. Is. Dead!" she said, drawing out the words in a slow, taunting way that made him curse savagely before he hit her with all the anger in his heart and soul.

Ave’s head was forcibly jerked to the side when he struck her. He didn’t slap her but punched her in the face until she momentarily lost her vision and her ears began to ring. Before she regained herself, he grabbed her hair and pulled her up to her feet by the hair.

"You killed my Selene. I shall torture you to your death until you regret the day you chose to cross me and take my woman away from me!" he muttered in a furious low voice as he pushed her back onto the bed and ordered his men to keep her down on it when she began to struggle yet again.

Caelan smirked wickedly when he saw the terror in her blue eyes for the first time, as she realized how he intended to torture her.

Wasn’t she being so smug and brave a while ago? She had dared to taunt him after killing his woman, right? He would show her that as a female, she was not created in this world to rebel against a male. A woman was born to be submissive and timid. She was everything he disliked in a woman. She had knocked him out heartlessly and even kicked him in the groin. Today, he would repay her for all of it—double—until she learned to be as tame as a mouse. Only then would he let her meet her death.

She had been acting all brave and smug, but he would make her beg him to stop before she met her fate!

Caelan watched as she shook her head from side to side, trying desperately to get away from the men holding her down on the bed. He took his time discarding his coat. Reaching out, he accepted the dagger one of his men handed to him before moving toward her. Her terrified yet angry blue eyes followed him. He didn’t like the anger in her gaze—she had no right to be angry. He wanted to see fear and submission!

"You don’t want to do this, Caelan!" she yelled out, furious and scared as she saw in his eyes what the psycho wanted to do to her.

He only laughed at her words before he reached out and ripped off the coat Alden had draped on her body with the dagger in his hands. She tried to fight the men holding her but ended up receiving another blow to the face that made her jaw crack and her eyes blur. She felt the iron taste on her tongue but still didn’t give up her struggles because the thought of being raped by this bastard didn’t only scar the soul out of her but would taint her for life, more than James Eamon’s molesting had! She would rather die than allow him to have his way with her.

However, with each struggle she gave, she ended up getting hit until she could barely fight again, and her head felt heavy. The skin of her face had turned numb from all the hits, and she dared not move again because another hit might really knock her unconscious this time around. She lay as still as a rock, her head ringing and her heart frantically beating as Caelan’s face loomed over her.

The sound of her ripping coat made her shut her eyes when she felt the cold blade now poised at the top of her chemise. She hated her helplessness and hated that she couldn’t fight this many men alone.

More than anything, she hated the feel of the bastard’s weight on her when he straddled her hips while he slowly began to rip off her chemise from the top. She refused to beg or cry for him not to do what he was going to do. Instead, she began to call for Lucian in her mind with a desperate internal cry, hoping he would hurry up.

She couldn’t fight Caelan’s men and him, but her husband would. She just hoped he wouldn’t come in when it was too late.

The sound of her ripping chemise made her bite back a cry of protest and the urge to beg him not to. She felt the cold air touch her bare chest when he ripped the thin fabric down to her abdomen, and she heard the perverted sharp inhales of breath from him and the men holding her legs and hands down on the bed.

"I never knew they could grow bigger than the last time I’d seen and touched them," Caelan snarled as he admired the white flesh of her breasts. "My bastard brother must have touched and molded them to make them more ripe," he laughed as he used his fingers to pinch her nipples.

She wished fervently to be able to kill every single man in the room, especially Caelan, if only her powers would stop flickering on and off and grant her the strength to fight. But days of being chained to a bed with no food or water, enduring countless beatings until her skin was torn, not to mention the brutal hit she’d received from Caelan, had drained nearly all of her energy.

"Lucian will kill you all! He will tear you apart for every pain you cause me!" she gritted out, her eyes shut. As expected of the bastard, he hit her again, harder than before, until she was barely conscious.

"I told you never to mention that cursed burden again. I’ll kill you and then go after him with your dangling head!" he snarled through clenched teeth, raising his dagger to her throat and slowly dragging it down her chest.

Ave bit back the cry that rose to the back of her throat when she felt the tip of his dagger against her breasts. She wanted to cover herself and gouge out the eyes of every single man in the room who were looking down at her bare torso.

She wanted to hug her arms around her body, but she couldn’t move. When he kneaded her breast with a painful grip, a tear rolled down her cheek, but she didn’t make a sound out of her mouth.

"Open your eyes, wench. I want you to look at me while I bed you until your death. You will regret all the days you raised your hands at me. Now open your eyes!" he demanded as he added pressure to her breast. When she refused to obey him, he raised his hand to strike her again.

Suddenly, the door to the room was ripped open, the frame and door torn apart by the force that hit it, causing his hand to freeze midair.

Caelan was somewhat startled at the sudden sound and swirled around to see who had dared interrupt him when he’d put men outside and inside the room. However, he froze when his eyes met the person—or more accurately, the beast—who had ripped off the frame and door together.

It loomed in the doorway, its massive frame barely fitting within the shattered frame.

Lucian’s amber eyes blazed like molten fire, and his growls reverberated through the room, a low, menacing sound that seemed to crawl under the skin of every man present. His jaws were parted slightly, revealing sharp fangs glistening with deadly intent, and his fur, matted with streaks of blood, bristled in rage.

He had raced up here, battling both the men in his way and Ave’s overwhelming emotions that seeped into him. Her emotions, intertwined with his, pressed down on him until his rage was barely contained. Now, he glared at the culprit responsible for putting her through all that torment. Caelan.

Caelan’s breath hitched in his throat as he met the eyes of the beast. He didn’t need to be told to know that it was his cursed brother. The size of him and his presence were terrifying. However, Caelan tried not to let his fear show as he believed his men were more than enough to bring the beast down.

Lucian was alone, while he had more than fifty men in the room for safety purposes. Schooling his expression into one of forced defiance, he saw the beast’s eyes go toward the woman he was straddled on, and then his eyes darkened before falling back on him.

He let out a roar as if to warn him to get off her, but Caelan smirked.

"You think I fear you?" he snarled, though his voice wavered slightly. He gestured sharply to his men. "Kill him!"

The soldiers hesitated, glancing at each other, but their training and oath to protect the Emperor at the cost of their own lives spurred them forward. However, the moment the first man charged, Lucian moved faster than any of them could anticipate. A clawed hand swiped through the air, and the soldier’s body crumpled to the floor with a sickening thud.

Another lunged, only to be seized mid-strike and hurled across the room, his body smashing against the stone wall.

Caelan’s confidence shattered when he saw how the bodies of men began to pile to the floor as he realized he had underestimated the beast. But then, recalling the plans of his mother and uncle, he smirked and hurriedly grabbed the woman and forced her up before the beast could finish killing his men. He made her stand while he pressed his dagger to her neck.

The carnage was swift and brutal, and within seconds, the floor of the room was littered with bodies. Lucian stood amid the destruction, his chest heaving as his eyes finally went toward Caelan, who now held a dagger to his wife’s neck. Lucian’s breath caught in his throat when he finally saw the condition his wife was in. Pure rage coursed through his being until he was blinded by it and could barely see anything but her.

Her face was bruised, and her thighs were covered with red, angry marks. Her chemise was ripped apart, exposing her torso where her breasts were left bare, and the milky flesh had turned red from the assault she must have gone through in his half-brother’s hands. She had her eyes closed, not even looking at him. He could feel her emotions to know that she had her eyes closed due to shame; she was ashamed of her current state.

Lucian’s clawed hands balled into tight fists as he looked at the smirk on Caelan’s face. He was trying to act brave, but Lucian could smell his fear. The overwhelming stench of it permeated the air, and he could hear the beat of his heart. The bastard had just signed his own death for daring to put his wife in such a state.

Lucian began to take slow, intimidating steps toward him.

Caelan wouldn’t dare kill her with the dagger pressed to her neck because he knew Lucian would kill him either way. Each of Lucian’s deliberate steps echoed through the now-silent room, heavy with a dark promise of revenge. His warning growls for Caelan to release her grew louder, but the fool refused to heed them.

"Stay back, or I swear I will slit her throat!" Caelan shouted, his voice cracking. He pressed the dagger harder against her skin, drawing a thin line of blood.

Despite the blade cutting into her, Ave gritted her teeth, tears spilling freely now from the humiliation she could no longer contain. "Kill him, Lucian!" she cried out, her voice trembling. She didn’t care about the dagger or the pain—it was nothing compared to the humiliation and suffering she’d endured.

She had never been someone who found satisfaction in killing or witnessing death, but Caelan had crossed every line. Even if Lucian didn’t kill him, she would. Hot tears streamed down her face as she clenched her eyes shut, trying to block out the overwhelming pain and despair.

When Lucian saw the tears staining her cheeks, his patience snapped.

What happened next was so swift that even Ave, with her eyes closed, didn’t realize it. In an instant, Lucian leapt forward, faster than any human could comprehend, and appeared behind Caelan. His clawed hand tore through Caelan’s shoulder, severing his arm completely. The dagger clattered to the floor along with the dismembered limb.

Before Caelan could even scream, Lucian’s claws slashed downward, splitting his head in two. His body collapsed in pieces, lifeless on the blood-stained floor.