Supreme Warlock System : From Zero to Ultimate With My Wives-Chapter 232: MINE!

Warlock Ch 232. MINE!

Damian took a shaky breath, his eyes locking on the dying man. "I didn't ask for this," he whispered, more to himself than to the echo in front of him. "I didn't ask to be dragged into your war, into your schemes. All I ever wanted was…"

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He trailed off, unable to finish the thought. What had he wanted? Peace? Freedom? A chance to live a normal life? Maybe. But normal had never been in the cards for him—not as Kaelan, and not as Damian.

The flames around him flickered, growing dimmer, as if responding to his turmoil. Victoria's husband fell to his knees, his strength finally giving out. His glare never wavered, even as his body began to fade, the memory unraveling.

"You'll always be a monster," the man said, his voice a mere whisper now. "No matter how hard you try… that's all they'll ever see."

Damian stood frozen. He clenched his fists, trying to remind himself that it wasn't real—this was just a residual memory, an echo of the past. But damn it, it felt real. Too real. His breath came in slow, shallow draws as he tried to steady himself, but before he could gather his thoughts, he felt something—someone—touch him.

A soft, desperate hand gripped his arm. He turned sharply, and there she was—Victoria, or rather, the version of her that existed in this memory. She looked pale, weak, and wounded, blood staining the elegant fabric of her once-pristine dress. Her hand trembled as she held onto him, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and urgency.

"It's a lie," she whispered, her voice strained but insistent. "Don't let him fool you."

Damian's gaze flicked back toward the man—the vampire who was supposed to be Victoria's husband. The hatred in the man's eyes hadn't faded, but something else burned there now: desperation. Powerlust. He wasn't just angry; he was driven by something far more dangerous—a craving for power at any cost.

Before Damian could react, the vampire lunged at him with terrifying speed, a snarl ripping from his throat. "MINE!" he roared, his voice filled with unhinged fury.

Even in the midst of the chaos, something about that word made Damian's blood boil. The man wasn't fighting for justice or revenge. He wasn't fighting for Victoria. He was fighting for himself, for his own twisted desire to claim power and control. And that was something Damian couldn't stand.

Instinct took over. Despite the pain coursing through his body from his own wounds, Damian gathered what mana he had left and concentrated it into a single, devastating blow. He didn't hesitate. He didn't hold back. His body moved on its own, fueled by a cold, detached resolve. With a burst of power, he struck the vampire square in the chest, sending him flying across the room.

The impact was immense, the force rippling outward and shaking the entire throne room. The vampire crashed into the far wall with a sickening thud, the sound echoing ominously before silence fell. Damian didn't need to check to know it was over. The man was dead.

But the force of his attack had unintended consequences. Victoria, already weakened and barely standing, was caught in the ripple of energy. She stumbled and fell to the floor, her breath coming in shallow gasps.

Damian stood there, panting, his body trembling from the exertion. His vision blurred slightly, but he forced himself to focus. His eyes locked onto Victoria, who lay on the floor, staring at him with an expression he couldn't quite place. Was it fear? Resentment? Or something else entirely?

He approached her slowly, his steps echoing in the now-silent room. When he finally stopped in front of her, he looked down at her with a cold, calculating gaze. His warmth and kindness were gone, replaced by something harder, more jaded.

"You…" Damian's voice was quiet but sharp, cutting through the heavy air like a blade. "You used me."

Victoria didn't respond immediately. She was too weak to do much more than breathe, but her eyes never left his. She knew he was right. She had used him. But that didn't mean she regretted it.

"He… He wanted your power," Victoria managed to say, her voice barely a whisper. "But he also wanted to get rid of me. I… I had no choice."

Damian crouched down in front of her, his expression unreadable. He tilted his head slightly, as if studying her, and then spoke again, his tone colder than before. "You had no choice, huh? You knew how bad my reputation was. Aren't you afraid that I'll kill you and take your power for myself? You're a queen, after all."

Victoria swallowed hard, the effort clearly painful. "I… I am afraid," she admitted, her voice trembling. "But I had to take the risk."

Damian stared at her for a long moment, and then, to her surprise, he laughed—a bitter, hollow sound. "I like that," he said quietly, his voice laced with something Victoria couldn't quite identify. Amusement? Resentment? Maybe both.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against her cheek in a gesture that was oddly gentle given the circumstances. "Listen to me, Your Majesty," he said, his tone calm but firm. "I have helped you and protected you. So you need to help me too. Consider it… payment for today."

Victoria's eyes widened slightly, confusion flickering across her face. "W-What?"

He didn't answer her, instead he glanced around the room before spotting a shard of broken glass nearby. Picking it up, he slashed his palm without hesitation, blood welling up and dripping onto the floor.

He extended his bleeding hand toward her. "Do we have a deal?" he asked, his voice steady and serious. "You know I'm the only one who can save you right now. But once you take this, once we're connected, you'll be bound to me just as much as I'm bound to you. You shouldn't look for me. You shouldn't interfere with my life. Not until the day I come to you again."