Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks Chapter 267: The Queen Who Stole a Throne

The scene unfolded before me like a mournful symphony of grief and retribution. Angela was drowning in her own agony; her desperate sobs intensified as her strikes grew feeble, her entire frame buckling under the crushing weight of her heartbreak.

I eventually moved toward her, gently catching her wrist to halt her frantic movements. Though she struggled at first, refusing to let go of the knife, I drew her into a firm embrace. I pried the weapon from her grasp, allowing it to clatter loudly against the floor.

“It’s okay,” I whispered, my voice deep and calm as I pulled her against my chest. She collapsed into me, her body shaking with violent sobs while her tears dampened my skin.

“It’s over, Angela. It’s finally over.” I held her securely, one hand supporting the back of her head as she hid her face against me. “You’re safe now. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

She gripped my shirt with her fists, clinging to me as her body trembled with the force of her weeping. “I hated him so much,” she wailed, her words muffled by my chest. “Every single day was filled with hate, but I had to play along. I had to pretend I was oblivious. Like I didn't care.” Her breathing hitched as the tears continued to pour out.

“So many times, I wanted to kill him, but I was terrified. I was just so scared. And now—now that it's finished, I don't know if the image will ever leave me. I don't know if I can ever push it out of my mind.”

“Forgetting isn't a requirement,” I replied softly, acting as a steady anchor amidst her emotional tempest. “You don’t have to offer forgiveness, either. You don’t have to do anything except live, Angela. Just live.”

I tightened my hold on her, my arms providing a sanctuary against the gale of her sorrow. She held onto me tightly, her frame wracked by sobs that seemed to pierce through her like blades.

I allowed her to weep, letting her vent the years of fury and pain she had suppressed—the years of wearing a mask, of smiling through misery, and burying her heartache where it remained hidden. “You are free now,” I whispered into her hair, my voice firm and unwavering. “And I am right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

The weight of her suffering finally spilled out into the open as her tears soaked into me and her breath hitched. The room fell silent, save for the sound of her crying. I didn’t push her or pull away; I simply remained there, holding her so she would know she was no longer alone.

The surviving soldiers stood paralyzed, their gazes shifting nervously between me and the helicopters descending from the sky. Their raw, electric fear was palpable, pulsing through the darkness like something alive.

I looked toward them, my voice slicing through the air. “Lead us to Walter’s place. Immediately.” My tone was absolute, leaving no room for doubt. “If any of you even contemplate betrayal, you will regret the day you were born.”

Their faces turned pale as they nodded frantically. “Yes, sir! Right away!” one stammered, his voice trembling as he gestured for the others to move. “We will take you there!”

I turned back to Angela. She remained at my side, her breathing slowing even as her hands continued to shake. The blade that had claimed Walter’s life was still in my hand, its edge stained dark with blood.

With a simple flick of my wrist, the metal transformed, twisting and reshaping itself into a black t-shirt. I donned the garment, the fabric resting against me as if it were natural. Angela watched the display, her eyes wide with a mixture of fatigue and wonder.

“Let’s go,” I said, softening my voice for her alone. I reached out, brushing a lock of hair from her brow and using my thumb to wipe away her final tears. “This fortress belongs to you now, Angela. Every stone, every weapon. It is time for you to take command.”

She looked up at me, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, yet a new, fierce light burned within them. “What if they refuse to listen?” she asked, her voice shaky but her expression determined.

I smirked, my hand resting on the hilt of the blade at my waist. “Then we force them.”

She took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders as she nodded. “And what about the rest? The people who served Walter?”

“They serve you now,” I stated firmly. “Or they perish. It is that simple.”

Angela’s expression hardened, her grief being replaced by something colder and more resilient. “I don’t want to be like him,” she said quietly, her voice nearly lost in the roar of the helicopter rotors. “I don’t want to govern through fear.”

I leaned in closer, speaking in a low tone meant only for her. “Then don’t. Rule through strength. Through respect. Use the kind of power that makes men follow you because they believe in you, not because they dread you.” I paused, locking my eyes onto hers. “But never forget—mercy is a luxury, Angela. And right now, it is a luxury we cannot afford.”

She studied me for a long moment, her face unreadable. Then, she gave a slow nod. “I won’t.”

We headed toward the helicopters, the soldiers following closely behind us. As we drew near, the choppers landed, their rotors whipping up a chaotic storm of dust and gravel.

The side doors slid open, and a man leaned out, pointing his rifle straight at us. His face was twisted with doubt, his finger hovering tensely over the trigger. “Where is the boss?” he yelled, his voice rough. “I’m asking who you people are! Where the hell is the Boss?”

I didn’t flinch or even blink. “Your boss is dead,” I declared, my voice cold and final. “And if that gun isn't lowered in the next three seconds, you’ll be joining him.”

The man hesitated, his eyes darting between Angela and me. “You’re lying,” he spat, though his voice lacked conviction. “Walter would never—”

“Walter is gone,” Angela interrupted, her voice steady and lethally calm. “And this fortress? It belongs to me now.” She stepped forward, chin held high and her gaze piercing. “You can swear your loyalty to me, or you can die right where you stand. The choice is yours.”