Chapter 18: She Is A Born Whore

Roman’s POV

Lucian ran the knife along her thighs and soon it tore apart the underwear she was wearing.

But she didn’t even flinch. As if she couldn’t feel a thing, or hear anything around her. Her hollow and empty gaze simply stared out the window, fixed on the bright sky beyond the glass.

Could someone really disconnect their mind like that?

"Not bad. Doesn’t look rotten at all," Lucian said with a note of amusement. "Seems like she preserved her cunt for us to destroy it."

"She must’ve fucked countless men in those six years," Jason muttered, clearly unconvinced. "How the hell is it still intact? Check properly."

"Take a look yourself," Lucian replied, stepping aside so the rest of us could see.

"Born whores are like this," Kael said coldly from behind us. "They can take anything and never break."

"True," Lucian and Jason echoed in unison.

Jason chuckling darkly. "No wonder she turned out this way. Always was a whore."

"Are we done here?" Rafe asked, clearly irritated. "If I stay any longer, I might puke from her shitty scent. And I sure as hell won’t be the one cleaning it."

"We’re done," Kael answered, already turning to leave.

"Not sure how I’m supposed to fuck her with that stench in the air," Rafe muttered as he followed. "I might just kill her instead."

Lucian and Jason walked after them.

"Little bat, just bear it for the sake of filming the damn video," Lucian said, voice light with mockery. "Otherwise Kaizan might think we left you out of the fun."

"Fun, my ass," Rafe grumbled with a frown.

Lucian handed the bloodied blade to him. "Sterilize this before giving it back to Kael."

Jason scoffed with a disgust. "I wonder how are we supposed to sterilize our cocks after fucking her?"

I glanced toward him. "Jason, aren’t you supposed to check her?"

He sneered. "We just checked her cunt. Looks all merry," and left anyways.

Four of them left, while I stayed back.

It was as if by default taking care of her has become solely my responsibility alone, while these four always found reasons to stay away.

I walked slowly toward the bed.

"Eira," I called her name softly.

She didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Didn’t even breathe like someone who was present in their body.

She didn’t respond at all.

I knew she had done wrong, but I couldn’t understand why I still couldn’t bring myself to leave her like this. Maybe it was the sheer misery of her condition that made me pity her, even when I didn’t want to.

I stepped closer to the headboard and unfastened the cuff holding her wrist. The soft click of the lock seemed to pull her out of whatever fog she was trapped in. She turned her head slowly, staring at her freed hand as if it was something foreign. Something rare.

I had already noticed the faint bruising around her wrist earlier. They told she had been restrained like this often.

The knee length hospital gown she was wearing had slipped up, which allowed me to see the numerous bruises and scars on her bare legs, some faded, some still fresh. Her thighs even had the teeth marks like she was bitten repeatedly.

Liam had once told me to look closely at her body if I wanted to understand what kind of life she had lived. Just by seeing her legs, I could already imagine the nightmare she must have endured. And this was only a part of it. The rest of her body might tell an even darker story.

But she was a pureblood wolf. Her body should have healed well to leave such scars. Unless they had fed her drugs strong enough to suppress her wolf’s healing. Or perhaps her wolf was too weak. Or worse, hiding deep in the dark, refusing to come out or she has lost her wolf already.

My heart felt heavy, and I didn’t want to admit it.

’She deserve it alright? Don’t pity her.’

I looked up at her face again. She was still staring at her hand. Still not speaking. As if freedom itself was a luxury she couldn’t quite accept.

’What exactly happened to you, Eira? You should be in prison. You were supposed to pay for what you did to our pack. So how did you end up in the hands of traffickers? How far had you fallen?’

I had so many questions, but now wasn’t the time to ask. Most importantly why she did it back then, why did she betray us and sold our pack to enemies?

"You’ve been lying in bed for a long time," I said, keeping my voice even. "Do you want to get up? Do you need to use the washroom?"

She looked at me for a moment, her gaze cautious and unreadable. Then, without a word, she began to move, trying to sit up on her own. The pain on her face was evident, etched into every small movement.

I stepped forward instinctively to help, but the moment my hand reached toward her, she flinched away. Like a wounded animal, conditioned to expect harm with every gesture.

"I just want to help you get to the bathroom. Nothing else," I said softly, trying to reassure her, but the wariness in her eyes didn’t ease. She didn’t believe me.

Sighing inwardly, I moved anyway and lifted her gently into my arms. She tensed immediately, trying to resist, but I held her firm. "I am the one to carry you since when we found you, and you are still alive. Better be quiet or I’ll drop you on the floor."

She hissed, a small sound of pain escaping her lips from her own movement. After that, she went still.

I carried her into the bathroom and set her down carefully on the toilet seat.

"If you can’t manage on your own, call me. I’ll be right outside," I told her.

She didn’t respond. Her head remained lowered, her platinum brown hair covered the sides of her small face, almost hiding it, her shoulders hunched. She was silent as stone.

I took a quick look around the bathroom, checking for anything she might use to harm herself. When I was satisfied there was nothing dangerous, I stepped out and closed the door behind me.

Outside, I ran my hands through my light brown hair, a little frustrated, ’Gosh! Why am I doing this?’