“Stop! Just stop! Stop!” he yelled.
His mother pursed her lips. “You stop. Stop being so goddamn pathetic. You want these men to obey you? Show them you’re someone worth taking orders from. Take the chains and finish the job yourself.”
“W-what?” Mikhail breathed out.
The first lash landed.
Crack!
Then another. Another.
The chains lapped at Wolf’s terrorized skin, his grunts becoming feral.
“You heard me,” Ekaterina answered.
Mikhail shook his head, and she shrugged, as if there was nothing she could do about the situation at hand.
“Then let’s get you back to bed. They can finish the job here,” she added.
“No…no…” Mikhail mumbled, his entire body humming with an aching nausea.
Crack! Crack!
She yanked him backward, toward the path leading to the house. Each step away felt like a betrayal. He couldn’t take his eyes off what was happening behind him. He couldn’t leave his brother to die because he had been stupid enough to get caught feeding him. Maybe if he took those chains, if he pretended to hurt him…
She’d still be satisfied. And Wolf wouldn’t have to suffer as much.
Crack!
“Wait! Wait—” Mikhail pleaded.
Ekaterina halted, a victorious smile spreading on her face. “Yes?”
“Tell them…tell them to stop.” Mikhail swallowed, his body shaking uncontrollably. “I’ll—I’ll do it.”
“You tell them. Get them to listen. Show them who the fuck is in charge.”
Mikhail didn’t have to think twice. When he yanked his hand out of his mother’s grip again, this time, she freed him. He found himself running back, yelling at the guards with all the strength he could muster, until the whip made of chains touched the ground at last.
Mikhail didn’t take it immediately. Instead, he crouched next to his brother’s face, lifting it up with his still-bloody hands.
Wolf was heaving as his eyes barely fluttered open. He made a monumental effort to look at Mikhail, to force his lips to move and thank him.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Mikhail cried, his voice thin and ragged.
“It’s alright.” He winced. “Do what you need to do. It’s the only way.”
Mikhail nodded fast and hard, turning his face to his mother, waiting there like a statue carved from nightmares, her impatience running thin. Ahead of him, the guards waited too, their eyes empty and bored, as if for them, this was just another day at work. Mikhail took the whip in his small hands and shuddered, scrambling to his feet and going behind his brother.
The way Wolf’s back looked—raw and stripped of skin in multiple places—made the vomit crawl higher up his throat. He knew once he let that whip hit him once, he’d break. Maybe Wolf would too.
“If you’re not going to do it, just say so. Stop wasting people’s time—” Ekaterina chided.
Mikhail didn’t let her finish the sentence. Instead, he lifted those chains up to the sky…and brought them down on Wolf’s flesh with a mere ounce of the strength he actually possessed. Enough to fool his mother into deeming it good enough, but not enough to cut into his brother’s skin like those psychopaths did.
Wolf’s grunt, however, was just as loud as before. He, too, was pretending.
After the first crack, Mikhail couldn’t help it. He fell to his knees and puked until only acid came out. By the time he got up again, his mother and the guards were gone.
