First message
The whip bit into flesh with a sound I loved — sharp, final. The bastard hit the ground hard, and I almost laughed. Weak. They were all weak. Meant to be broken. That’s why I was here. That’s why they needed me.
I stalked through the line of them, letting the whip drag across the dirt, feeling the air go heavy with fear. Beautiful. I could smell it. Fear was honest — unlike the lies they all wore like second skin.
“You think pain’s the worst thing I can do to you?” I growled, savoring the way some of them flinched.
I pulled back my arm to give another lesson
—and then she stepped out. a girl
She slipped between me and the crumpled slave like it was nothing. Like she could. Her eyes were wrong — too calm, too steady. No begging, no fear. Just that cold, empty stare.
For a second, my hand locked up around the whip. No one got between me and discipline. No one. I wanted to strike her down. Wanted to teach her what it meant to interfere.