Page 42 of Kenan's Mate
I shudder and try to retreat, but my legs are too weak to manage a single step. I know he’s seeing the ghost of his dead mate in my disobedience. He’s thinking if he doesn’t punish me badly, as severely as he should’ve punished her for taking unchaperoned walks in a forest full of bears and wildcats, I will one day meet a similar fate to Ellonia’s.
His fists clench at his sides and for a moment I think he’s going to knock me to the ground. But he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When his eyes open, he says, “Go to the bedroom now, Laylah. If I must ask again, I can’t promise I won’t drag you upstairs by your hair.”
I don’t remember walking to our bedroom, but I soon find myself standing in the middle of the room, divested of my dress. I’m in a nervous trance. I don’t want to accept this is my reality and I’m about to endure a terrible beating from Kenan. Hot tears stream down my face. If he makes me bleed, or covers me in bruises, or sends Heggal away, I’ll never forgive him. My world will remain forever dark.
Sorrow envelopes me so thickly each breath becomes a struggle. I feel like the woman in thecalling song, though I’m mourning the loss of the mate IthoughtI had, rather than a death. All the happiness I’ve found on Tallia with Kenan has come to an end. The rest of my life will be cloaked in misery.
The echo of footsteps coming up the stairs sends me scrambling to the floor. I kneel and wait in horrible anticipation. Each heavy footfall makes me flinch. When the door slides open, I don’t dare look up.
Kenan’s strong presence fills the room. His boots pause in my vision, and my gaze travels up far enough to glimpse the implement he’s holding. I expected a long whip, but it’s short and looks flexible. Like a riding crop. I gulp.
Tension radiates from Kenan as he looms above me. I hear a clinking sound and, finally, I look up. Gleaming silver manacles hang from the ceiling. Our eyes meet, and my heart sinks at the firm look of resolution he’s wearing.
He isn’t going to change his mind, no matter how much I plead or fight. I might not be able to fight him—given his size and strength, what’s the point?—but I can still beg for leniency. I cling to a final thread of hope he will realize what he’s doing is wrong.
“Kenan, I beg you, please just spank me. I know I disobeyed you, and lied to you, but I’m so very sorry. Please don’t whip me with that.” I sound weepy and pathetic, but I feel even worse. My heart teeters on the edge of deep canyon, and if he locks the manacles around my wrists and takes the crop to my back, it’ll fall into the gorge and shatter into a thousand pieces.
“Heggal probably knows everything about you there is to know. All your secrets, all your happiness, and all your sorrows. A Kleaxian female would never dare touch a Ghessan, and I thought I’d made my orders clear enough the first time. I’m your mate, and I expect you to obey me when given a rule. That rule was given to protect you. I don’t want a Ghessan snooping around in your mind. If he has sinister plans, and, yes, a long time ago Ghessans tried to rebel against their Kleaxian masters, he could have gotten vital information from you, had I discussed any confidential Kleaxian matters with you. Had I known you were inclined to disobey this rule, I would have banished all Ghessans from our home.”
“Heggal is harmless, Kenan. I swear. He has a good heart.”
He gives a snort of derision. When I look down, he places the tip of the crop underneath my chin, forcing my gaze back to his. The implement is cool against my skin, and I shiver so hard I half-wonder if I’m going into shock.
“Have any of the other servants communicated with you?”
“No, they haven’t.” Time to be completely honest. “I’ve tried speaking with them all, and all but Heggal have ignored me. I swear I’m telling the truth.”
“Stand up.” His command is sharp.
“Don’t do this, Kenan, please. I beg you. Spank me instead.” I can hardly see through the flow of tears. “Or whip my breasts with one of your belts, please, Kenan.” I can’t believe what I’m asking for, or that I actually mean it.
When he lifts me up and locks my wrists in the manacles above my head, one at a time, my heart teeters closer to the precipitous edge of that canyon. I have to stand on my tiptoes, the manacles hang so high from the floor.
I’m stupid for loving Kenan. So fucking stupid. He’s a monster. He’s the big scary bad man from the movies who’s completely irredeemable, despite being occasionally charming. Monsters can be charming and beautiful. I know that now.
No matter how hard I fight, I’ll never be the brave heroine I used to believe I was. I’ll never escape him and save the day. Saving the day would mean making it back to Earth, with all the other taken human women at my side. And that’s impossible.
He pulls a contraption from his pocket that looks similar to the devices the doctor ran over me in the tent. Hovering it in front of my stomach, he crouches as he reads the device. When he stands up, he says, “You’re not with child right now. I didn’t think you were, since your aura should turn a darker blue if you get pregnant, but I had to make sure.”
I suck in deep breaths and pray for a miracle, pray for Kenan to have a change of heart, an epiphany that if he goes through with this, our relationship will be changed forever. Damaged beyond repair. There’s a flicker of regret in his eyes as he moves behind me, but before he disappears from my vision, the firm resolve returns.
“You’ll get twenty.”
“Are you going to make me bleed, Kenan?”
“You didn’t fear me enough to obey me, and now I must make sure you never, ever tell a lie again, Laylah, let alone deliberately break a rule.”
“Please,” I beg, one last time.
He doesn’t heed my sorrowful plea, and I hear the sickening whoosh of the crop before the line of fire spreads across my back. I scream, and then the world goes black.
Chapter Twenty
When I awake, Heggal’s pale face is the first thing I see. He’s leaning over me and holding my hand. A dark bruise covers his left cheek, and both of his eyes are slightly swollen. I gasp and try to wrench my hand from his, but he smiles kindly and speaks in my mind.
Be calm, child. All is well.
I stop trying to remove my hand from his, but I don’t dare speak. I don’t want another beating. As I shift in the bed, I don’t understand why my back doesn’t hurt.
