The wood beneath him creaks, and the sound of his footsteps fill the space. But he’s not walking in my direction. He’s heading for the chest at the back of the room, and my veins run cold as my entire body freezes.
There’s only one thing he keeps in that chest.
It’s as if I’m twelve years old all over again.
I heave in a deep breath, my chest rising slowly. Clenching my jaw, I turn to face him.
He’s holding the whip in his hands. The same one he’s slashed across my back countless times.
It’s been over a decade since I’ve felt its sting. He stopped the beatings when we learned I was an Essentari, and for the first time, it washimthat fearedme.
But even so, I still remember every lash, every relentless stroke against my skin.
The nightmares never fail to visit me when I sleep.
The last time—the only time—I wasn’t plagued by the memories was the night I fell asleep in Serafina’s room. With her hand in mine, the nightmares never came.
Holding my head high, I move to stand before him, knowing I have no choice, knowing if I don’t submit, Serafina will die.
He would kill her if only to torment me, to punish me, but if he’ll settle for this form of torture instead, I’ll gladly take it ten times over.
He points his chin, motioning for the spot where he wants me to kneel, and without saying a word, I do.
My teeth lock together as I watch my mother flee the room, not even bothering to glance back.
Theo stands in the doorway, taking a step toward me, but I shake my head at him.Interfering will do no good. His face falls, but he nods because he understands.
I brace myself for impact.
And then it comes, the crack of the whip followed by blinding heat, heat that travels down the length of my spine, burning in a way that lets me know the flesh has torn, ripped wide open, and the pain is all-consuming, but I hold back the scream, swallowing it down.
He doesn’t deserve the satisfaction.
It comes again, the sound slicing through the air, hitting flesh, then bone.
The room spins, my vision blurs, and for a moment, I think I might lose consciousness. But her face flashes in my mind. Her laugh, her fierceness, the way the darkness seems to disappear whenever she’s near.
I focus on her and nothing else.
“You’re pathetic,” my father sneers, his voice venomous.
The whip cracks again, but I hardly register the pain this time. The heat, the blood trickling down my back, the sound of his satisfied grunts—none of it matters as he continues his assault.
By the time he’s done, I don’t know how much time has passed. I don’t know how many lashings I endured.
Dropping to my hands, I suck in one shaky breath after another. He’s standing right in front of me now, and I know he’s waiting for me to look at him.
Sweat drips from my forehead, the pain in my back still raw and searing, but the wounds he inflicted should begin to heal soon, much to his dismay.
He smiles when my eyes meet his. “Now get the fuck out of my sight.”
Pushing myself from the ground with a barely audible groan, I do exactly that. Ignoring the pain the best I can, I storm out of the throne room.
Theo’s right behind me as I make my way to where they’re holding Serafina.
The dungeons.
“I’d ask if you’re okay, but I already know how you’ll respond, so let’s just skip the conversation about howyou don’t want to talk about itand go straight to what you know is coming next.” His words are harsh at my back, his footsteps heavy as he follows me down the narrow corridor, but I’m glad he knows me well enough to realize I have no desire to discuss what just happened back there. “Did you know?”
