“Because you won’t give up. You never just give up.”
“I can’t.”
“You can, but you won’t. How many do you believe you deserve?”
“Please stop.”
“How many?” His whisper flutters across my cheek like a soft breeze on a scorching day
“Five!”
My scream has drool and tears pouring down my chin. My body tenses as I wait for the sound.
Crack.
I jolt before the pain registers. The realm tilts, and my vision doubles, then triples. My stomach lurches. No time passes. No breath. No pause.
Anothercrack.
Another white-hot strip of agony splits open skin that was already screaming.
My mouth opens, but nothing comes out. My voice was burned away somewhere between the third and the fourth lash.
I can’t breathe. I can’t think.
He’s suddenly in front of me again—no footsteps, no time, justthere, kneeling. His fingers are gentle under my chin like he’s comforting a frightened child.
Me. I used to be that frightened child. He was always there.
“Thayla,” he murmurs, and that soft, patronizing tone wraps around my heart. “You see now? This is why I have to do it. You never learn unless it hurts.”
My pulse thunders in my ears.
“W-what’s happening?” I breathe.
His expression sharpens. “Don’t start. Don’t twist this on me. You know exactly what you did.”
“I didn’t—I don’t.”
“Thay.” His thumb wipes another tear from my cheek. “How many do you believe you deserve?”
“No.” My voice breaks. “You already—”
“How many?”
No warmth now. Just cold command.
“I…I don’t…”
“Seven,” he answers for me when I don’t respond fast enough. “Because defiance stacks, Thayla. It always stacks.”
He steps away.
I don’t get to brace.
I don’t get to breathe.
Crack.
