Page 15 of His Fierce Lycan Luna

“That doesn’t make it your fault,” Gannon says. “And afterward?” he asks, and I stare, unblinking out the windshield for a second before my gaze goes to my fingers as I pick at the skin.

“Azalea found me afterward. We cooked dinner, and she fed us. We were allowed a bowl of rice to share. Both of us were starving, yet neither of us touched it. That was the payment, a bowl of rice.” A tear escapes, knowing my worth to her was a bowl of rice.

“Mrs. Daley then called us ungrateful, and Azalea,” Taking a deep breath, I shut my eyes as the guilt rolls over me in waves. Shame stains my thoughts, knowing she bore over half of her cuts that day because of me. “She was punished for our refusal.” My voice comes out weaker than intended, “It was supposed to be just five lashes; cruel nevertheless, but more bearable – Mrs. Daley made it forty.”

“Was supposed to be five?” Gannon’s question pulls me from my haunted memory. A slight nod is all I manage while battling the fresh onslaught of guilt at recalling how much she suffered for me.

“Yes.” Swallowing hard, I manage to find my voice again. “She threw a bowl at Azalea when we defied her at dinner. It shattered against her face. The sharp edge left a bloody trail down Azalea’s face and cleaved her eyebrow in two.” With a shuddering breath, I vividly picture the gnarled cane with its intimidating whip wrapped around the handle – usually brandished exclusively for Azalea.

My own quiet sob breaks through the silence piped in the horror of what Azalea had endured on behalf of my defiance that night – willingly bearing punishment destined for me.

“What happened?” Gannon asks.

“Mrs. Daley gave her the five lashings, but when it was my turn, Azalea…” My face burns with shame at my next words.

“It hurt, I couldn’t sit; it hurt too much. Azalea was already hurt, and she still did it.”

“What did she do?” Gannon asks. I chew my lip and glance out the window as that night burns through my vision like I was right there all over again, witnessing it.

“She attacked Mrs. Daley so she wouldn’t hit me with the cane.” Gannon glances at me, probably shocked at what he is hearing because it shocked me back then too. I believed Mrs. Daley would kill her. “Azalea’s back was bleeding everywhere, her cuts from the day before had reopened. Mrs. Daley told me to straddle the chair; usually she made us stand for lashings. But she said her back was sore and wanted to make sure we didn’t move on her.” A startled laugh comes out of me.

“Her back was sore; that woman didn’t know the meaning of a sore back,” I chuckle.

“Abbie?” Gannon asks, pulling me back from wherever I drifted off. I suck in a breath, remembering I am supposed to be explaining what happened. “I told her I couldn’t sit, and she tried to shove me in the chair. When she grabbed me, Azalea slapped her. I was so shocked I just stood there. Wewere petrified of that woman, yet Azalea slapped her. Mrs. Daley slapped her back, knocking her to the ground, where she whipped her five more times.”

I peer out the window, my mind going back to that haunted place. “But then, when Mrs. Daley turned back to punish me, she got back up and hit her again, this time knocking Mrs. Daley over.”

Tears burn my eyes, and I can still see the blood gushing from Azalea’s face where the bowl hit her. I had never seen that much blood before. It ran down her arms and legs, staining her clothes. I gave her my own clothes because I couldn’t bear to wear them anymore. Mrs. Daley already whacked her good for that before dinner for wasting clothes. Only to suffer more for me.

“Mrs. Daley smacked her head on the coffee table. She had a nasty bump, she then sent me to my room, but I stayed on the stairs. Mrs. Daley said Azalea was going to get 40 lashings for messing up her face before the Alpha visit. But it was so much more than that.”

“Forty Lashings?” Gannon asked, shocked. He growls when I nod casually.

“Most of the scars Azalea has are because of me. She always took most of my punishments after that. Mrs. Daley was brutal with her. That night, Azalea collapsed on the ground, and I watched as she just kept whipping her over and over until she wasn’t moving. I thought she was dead. I waited for Mrs. Daley to leave, and I helped her clean up as she did me,” I tell him. The car is silent for a few seconds until I can’t handle his silence or his burning aura any longer.

“So, what did Damian want?” I ask him, changing the subject.

“They have Cassandra in the dungeons,” Gannon answers, and I gulp, biting on my lip to stop it quivering.

“It’s up to you what they do with her. That’s what Damian called about.”

“I get to choose her punishment?” I ask, horrified. Gannon grips the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles turning white under pressure.

“You don’t have to do anything, you don’t want to. You don’t even have to see her if you don’t want to. I can handle it when we get back but it is up to you,” Gannon says. I swallow and nod.

“And the council?”

“Kyson killed Denali and Kendrick. The other two he let go.”

“Why would he let them go?” I ask, confused.

“Because Mr. Crux has immunity, despite Kyson hating him. He also left Lark alive to serve as a reminder that no one is untouchable. Denali and Larkin are from very prominent families.”

“What do you mean Mr. Crux has immunity?”

“He has immunity because he is Azalea’s cousin,” Gannon tells me.

“Then why isn’t he ruling then?” I ask confused.

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