Page 51 of Capturing Sin

I was borderline starving because of him and the vicious demon I fed daily. Felt a lot like sacrifice to me. But I bit my tongue, letting his disgust rake over me in silence.

I saw him move before I could do anything about it. Not that I would have.

The stinging slap echoed through the room, the acrid taste of blood blooming in my mouth as he knocked me from the chair. On hands and knees, I stared at the polished floorboards swimming in my vision, but at least my glasses miraculously stayed on.

Rotten memories swam up, offering me glimpses of past punishments.

Colourless eyes brimming with excitement, thick fingers woven into my hair to wrench my head back, exposing the fragile column of my throat as his other hand coiled around it like a steel vice. The hot brand of liquor-laced breath scorching my face as he leaned in with a cruel smile.

My ears rang as I blinked hard, trying to stave off the memories and the blackness flirting at the edges. I wasn’t in nearly a strong enough state to take a beating right now, even though I’d caved last night and eaten my final semi-nutritious microwave meal.

He sneered, as if he could taste my weakness. “You’re an embarrassment. Get. Up.”

My cheek throbbed, tender and swelling with the bruise already forming. I could taste the coppery tang of blood, a bead running down my chin to splash the back of my hand.

The bastard had split my lip with my father’s signet ring: the symbol of his position as hunter prime.

Hating the wavering fear trying to consume me, I rose to my feet, chin up, shoulders back, watching my uncle with a blank expression despite the useless rage burning a hole through my middle.

Any reaction except neutral strength would only provoke the beast.

His fist slammed into the same side of my face, whipping my head around with brutal force. I stumbled a step but managed to stay on my feet as agony lanced my cheek. Fresh blood flooded my mouth, thick rivulets running down my chin as my lip split wider.

An instant headache pounded my skull, but the pain in my cheek shrieked louder.

Clearly, I hadn’t hidden my anger fast enough.

I worked my jaw, fixing my glasses back into place, before slowly turning to face my uncle. This time utterly devoid of emotion.

Beady eyes drilled into me, weighing, scrutinising. A frisson of fear slid through my veins as I wondered whether this was the time I didn’t make it out of the room.

Shame swamped me.

I’d spent most of my life training to fight, yet when it came down to it, I was nothing but a coward.

His upper lip twisted in disgust, and he waved a hand in a shooing gesture, light glinting off my father’s bloodied ring. “Go back to your damn lab, Liliana, and for once in your miserable life, stop shaming this family. You’re meant to be saving lives, not wasting my time.”

He’d been the one to summon me to his office this evening for an urgent meeting, which was apparently just an excuse to release some of his pent-up rage.

“Hunter Prime.” I inclined my head, ignoring how the room spun behind the grizzled monster.

I left quietly, each step down the corridor stiff as I carefully locked away every jagged emotion. The pieces seemed to cut me from the inside out.

Finally reaching the small bathroom, I slipped inside and turned the lock with trembling hands. Leaning back against the solid door, I let my head thunk into the wood, squeezing my eyes shut.

My throat thickened, airway narrowing until each breath tore through in a panicked rasp that rang too loudly in my own ears. Black spots danced in my vision as I fought for control, for a single deep inhale past the tightness in my chest.

I clenched my hands together, rubbing at my knuckles where the constant ache lived. A bone-deep reminder of past mistakes.

Everyone says how hopelessness feels crushing, but it’s the numbness that really gets you. My heart pounded with the typical signs of rising anxiety—shallow gasps, tremors, cold sweat prickling my skin. But emotionally, I felt…nothing. A hollow cavern, scraped bare.

I was so close to empty, what would happen when I finally reached the bottom?

Would I shatter and cease to exist?

Wetness leaked from my eyes, and I cursed under my breath, reaching beneath my glasses to wipe away the utter waste of hydration. I didn’t have time for this.

I straightened, splashing cold water on my abused face and focused on evening out my ragged breaths, smothering the breakdown fighting to surface. I folded away the panic, embracing the numb to get me through as I methodically reconstructed my blank façade, ignoring the haunted look in my dark brown eyes.

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