Page 16 of Retribution
His next words sent fear churning through her.
“If you had even the slightest suspicion that your husband was involved with the rebels, you should have turned him in. That makes you guilty enough. It makes you responsible enough for my wife’s death that you deserve all the pain that’s coming to you. And you deserve to one day die at my hand.” He gave her a cruel smile that made her blood run cold. “But you’re not going to die anytime soon.”
He stood and moved behind her, where he resumed trailing the leather strap along her back in a threatening manner. Then he brought it down across her back again. Hard enough to steal her breath. This time he didn’t pause to speak with her, he just kept going and going, bringing the strap down over and over.
The pain, the pain, the pain.
Chapter 7
Something was wrong.
Zamek stopped wielding the strap and took a step back. He’d struck the little human fifteen times, though not hard enough to break her delicate skin, despite his promise to make her bleed. But her back was covered in red stripes, and she cowered before him, on her hands and knees, as she sobbed.
Her cries unsettled him. Deeply.
Butfluxxif he knew why.
Disgust rolled through him. Not disgust with her, but with himself.
He swallowed hard and looked at the strap, then back at the small human female. Hurting her didn’t make him feel better, as he’d hoped, nor did her suffering make him hunger for her blood.
When he finally allowed himself to consider how Shessema might view him now, shame washed through him.
Fluxx fluxx fluxx.
If he couldn’t use Layla to exact his vengeance, what exactly was he supposed to do with her? He couldn’t set her free. According to the Kall Custom of Retribution, her life belonged to him.
He stuck the leather strap into his waistband and started pacing behind Layla, trying to gather his thoughts. She remained on the floor, crying on her hands and knees.
He ceased pacing and knelt next to her.
As he observed her sorrow and took in the sight of her punished back, he experienced a strange tugging sensation in his chest. Remorse? Compassion?
Conflict roiled within him.
She sniffled and wiped at her face. Lifting her head a notch, she met his gaze, her eyes gleaming with both fright and pain. “Is-is it over?”
He nodded, unsure of what to say. For the briefest moment, an apology rested on the tip of his tongue, but pride kept him silent.She’s human, he told himself.She’s human and you owe her nothing.
He moved closer and ran a hand gently over her back. When she gasped and stiffened, he murmured, “It’s all right. I’m simply checking to make sure no skin is broken.”
Only two of the red stripes had formed large welts. He found himself breathing a sigh of relief. Once he finished inspecting the marks, he lifted her up and guided her to the bed.
“Please no.” She attempted to pull away from him. “No no no no.” She stared at the bed with alarm, and it took him a moment to realize what it was that scared her.
“I am not going to force myself on you, Layla,” he said. “I’m simply helping you into bed.”
She turned in his arms, facing him. “Do you swear it?” She didn’t look up as she spoke, and her quivering intensified.
“I swear it.”
He helped her onto the bed and frowned to discover she didn’t have any covers. Goosebumps prickled her skin and her shaking was getting worse. He glanced at her torn shirt and then her pants. She could only get half-dressed right now, and he very much wished to cover her immediately. He stepped back and removed his uniform shirt.
She stiffened and peered at him with caution in her eyes, but he only draped the black shirt over her body. Small as she was, his shirt almost covered her entirely. At the very least, it shielded her nudity, and it covered the shame of what Zamek had just done.
“Layla,” he said, and her name felt strangely intimate on his tongue, for it was the first time he’d spoken it without anger.
Her eyes drifted to his again. “Yes, General?”
