Chapter Fifty five

Damon's POV

I stumbled out of the room barking something to the guard there like "Don't let anyone in here" and I rushed out to a nearby washroom, and placed my hands under the faucet watching mesmerizingly as the white turned blood red to faded pink as it washed the blood stains down the drain. I kept scrubbing my hands over and over again until my hands were scrubbed raw, trying to wipe away the feeling of blood I had on my hands.

It wasn't the first time I'd killed before especially not a woman. In battle you didn't recognize who was male or female, all you saw were enemies to attack. I placed my dripping hands on my face, closing my eyes as the mental image of her shocked race when I stabbed her before decapitating her. Her head had rolled to my leg and her face was frozen into that expression.

Dammit. This was a huge clusterfuck that I didn't expect and I had no idea how to deal with it.

This time I can't even seek Tristan's help because I can't imagine how pissed off he woul