Page 63 of Their Blood Rite

I shrug, not eager to give him any ideas. ‘It has to hurt.’

‘I’m not going to hurt you.’

And that’s it. The trigger takes hold, and I can’t fucking breathe.

In a quick move, I pull off Ronan’s belt from his middle and thrust it into his hands. I assume the position.

I'm on my knees with my head protected by my arms. Ready.

But no strike comes. No lashing.

I violently flinch when I’m touched. But it’s his hands, not the belt. He makes me sit.

‘I said I am not going to hit you.’

My eyes remain glued to the belt. He looks at it. I shove it towards him, feeling the lack of air taking hold.

‘You triggered her and didn’t know she needed to be beaten afterwards?’ Archie snaps. ‘For fuck sake, Shaw.’ He furiously grabs my dress and tears it down the middle, exposing the back I offer. ‘What the fuck!’ Archie hisses, falling to his knees beside me. His hand runs along my spine, making me wince. ‘What the fuck is this!?’

Shaw hoists me up and grips my arms tightly.

In a low growl that makes my insides cold, he demands, ‘Was this your father? Who else?’

All I can do is suffocate.

Dorian takes my face and forces me to look at him. ‘No one is beating you. Breathe!’

‘She won’t breathe until the punishment is done,’ Shaw says. ‘How long has he been doing this to her?’

‘Judging from the mess of her back, years,’ Dorian replies. ‘Her lips are going blue. Shaw, you gotta do something.’

‘Breathe!’ Archie commands, his claim burning.

Nothing.

Shaw retakes my face in his hands and looks deep into my eyes.

‘Can I choose the weapon?’ he asks. When I don’t answer, he shakes me. ‘CAN I CHOOSE?’

I nod. But I don’t want him to choose. The belt is what I want. It will break my skin but not my bones.

‘How many, Pixie?’ he urges.

I start to fall, and my vision is fading.

‘HOW MANY HAVE YOU BEEN CONDITIONED TO TAKE?!’

I hold up ten fingers.

‘He will pay for doing this to you,’ he says before flipping me over his knee.

His palm slaps my backside hard. As soon as he strikes me, I take in a deep gasp. Air floods my body, and the room spins from the sudden influx of oxygen. I break into sobs. Confused, shameful and overwhelmed sobs.

Could I get any lower? Could I lose anything more?

‘Count,’ Shaw orders.

‘O-one,’ I reply through my sobs.

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