Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 118042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 590(@200wpm)___ 472(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 590(@200wpm)___ 472(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
I couldn’t breathe as Victor pulled out the same brown whip he’d used on me from his back waistband. Smoothing down his navy blazer, he grinned at the crowd and cracked the whip. “Each of you has my permission to whip him as hard as you like. Draw blood. Shred his back. Do whatever you fancy.” He smirked. “The only rule is five strikes per Master. And don’t molest him. That’s my job. I’ll go first.”
I swallowed my scream as Victor wrenched his arm back.
Sent the whip singing.
And struck.
Chapter Ten
………………………….
Henri
FUNNY HOW PAIN COULD SWITCH from agonising to numbing. How ice cold could become boiling hot. How shock could hide a broken bone.
I’d heard of such phenomena.
Heard how mothers had the sudden strength to throw cars off their children and soldiers carried their comrades through a battlefield with a broken leg.
I’d endured a lot on this island, but I hadn’t been pushed to those extremes.
Not until now.
Now…I had an inkling.
The slightest awakening of just how far I would go if given the tiniest chance of winning.
Nothing would stop me.
Nothing could stop me.
Not a broken bone.
Not a broken soul.
Because the only thing I needed to burn this fucking place to the ground was a heart that kept on beating. A heart that watched every lash and sent me her love even though I wished she’d close her eyes.
I grunted as Victor reopened my back with his lashes.
My scarred skin split wide as he whipped me. Hot blood rivered down my back and trickled over my bare ass. He wasn’t gentle nor was he unhinged. He whipped me just enough to ensure I trembled and panted—driving me to that point where my legs threatened to give out before he finished.
But then it was over.
And he patted my sweaty, bloody shoulder and whispered how I would get a reward if I managed to stay coherent.
He left.
Another Master took his place.
I groaned as he struck.
His hit wasn’t as accurate. The bite of the whip kissed my thighs instead of my back, adding another layer of excruciation. He whipped me five times and then traded places.
The next lacked finesse, the leather fork chewing its way through my shoulder blades, almost kissing bone.
Kiss by vicious kiss, they pushed me deeper and deeper to that point of inhumanness.
I felt it building inside me, welling like a mushroom cloud, preparing to blanket, shelter, and grant me adrenaline and strength to survive.
If only I could use that numbness to protect Ily and get her far away from here.
If only I could blow up this fucking fortress and every monster within it.
A guttural cry escaped me as another Master stepped up and began.
He held nothing back.
No one did.
Every Master brutalised me to the point I no longer even knew my own name.
I hung there.
Bleeding.
Gasping.
Twitching.
I lost track of time again.
I skipped in and out of awareness as pain became heat, and heat became ice, and ice became numbness.
My body shuddered as each man took his turn.
My bare feet slipped on the spilled blood painting the podium floor.
I didn’t know how many Masters were in residence.
I didn’t try to match faces with their strikes.
I didn’t care.
The sooner this was over, the sooner I could pass out.
You can’t pass out.
The guard…remember?
He’d whispered something...
Christmas is in two days.
Had he told me that to add yet another layer of torture?
I no longer kept track of the clock or calendar. I didn’t want to know how much time kept ticking past.
But…he’d risked his neck to whisper in my ear.
He’d said it with hope instead of mockery.
Christmas is in two days.
What was I supposed to do with that information?
Help plant bombs again?
Light the fuses?
I groaned as a Master struck me particularly deep. A bone-deep slice throbbed over my ribcage hinting he’d split yet another area of my skin.
Heavy footfalls pounded up the steps of the stage. My heartbeat roared in my ears as the man came closer, closer.
Fuck, now what?
My pulse pounded in every wound. My blood poured faster down my legs.
A cruel fist landed in my hair and yanked my head back.
I groaned as the pain in my shoulders compounded.
My vision spluttered as I stared at the decorative painted ceiling, but then my thundering heart stopped as whoever held me whispered into my ear. “Hold on, Mercer. Just…hold on.”
“Ben, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Victor drawled from wherever he sat watching the show.
Ben?
The Master holding me wrenched my head to the side with a sick chuckle. “Just getting in the groove, Vic. Didn’t know I had a violent streak until I started whipping him.”
“You expect me to believe you? You ask for permission with Abigail, you lying prick.” His voice echoed with suspicion. “Don’t take me for a—”
“Abigail is fragile. She’d die if I truly let loose,” Ben snapped. A smile entered his voice. “But Henri is not. I can let myself go without fear of killing him.”