Page 72 of Their Offering

“Maybe more? What do you mean, maybe more?” I crossed my arms and cocked a brow, waiting for him to admit his secrets.

I can’t tell her yet. I’m not ready. I’ll never be.

I remained stone-faced as Keir’s thoughts sounded in my head. Tell me what? What was he not ready for? Why didn’t he trust me? I’d given everything up for him. I mean, for Earth. Still.

He didn’t offer me an answer, choosing to stare me down instead. “Whatever. You’ve hardly even touched me. No one,no one, owns me, especially not you.” I turned on my heels and stormed out, tugging my dress down. I didn’t care about my lack of shoes or panties.

“Fuck, Keir. Stop doing this to her,” I heard one of the twins say before they both followed me out to the waiting car.

The drive home was painful. They kept trying to get me to talk, but I remained silent. My thoughts were stuck on Keir’s thoughts.

Did he know I heard him?

Chapter 33

Keir

I couldn’t believe I’d agreed to let her see him, to see the man, theboy, who’d almost taken her onouraltar. I was hoping she’d forget about him, or never ask, but she constantly surprised me.

I knew Nicholas was right. Shewasstronger than I’d given her credit for, but that wasn’t what this was about. I wanted to protect her. I’d taken care of all the men on Earth who’d hurt her as a child, and Austin was the only one left. I never wanted her to have to deal with him, but if closure was what she needed, that’s what I’d give her. She deserved that and more.

I pulled into my parking spot at the tower and walked inside, heading for my office first. I had some paperwork to deal with before prepping Austin for her arrival.

I stopped short when I opened my door. Someone was sitting in my chair, facing the wall of windows overlooking the city. I cleared my throat, expecting whoever it was to jump up and apologize for being such an idiot. Instead, my chair turned, revealing my father.

“Keir,” he said smoothly, as if there was no bad blood between us. As if we were close. As if we were the happiest father and son duo there was.

“Father,” I acknowledged him, unsure of why he would surprise me with a visit.

We hardly spoke, and when we did, it was usually through email or other people. If he showed up, it was usually to torment me or blame me for something.

Growing up, my father loved practicing his torture on me. Our mother hardly ever stopped him, probably afraid he would turn it around on her instead. I remember the first time he whipped me like it was yesterday.

He’d caught me and the twins sneaking out of the palace. After catching us running through the streets, he was furious. He claimed he kept us in the palace to protect us, but I had a feeling it was more than that. He never interacted with our people, as if they were beneath him. He wanted us to be just like him.

I couldn’t let the twins take the fall, so I told our father it had all been my idea. He had always favored them, so he was more than happy to take it all out on me.

He usually made me do some tedious, torturous job, like tend the Lake of Fire or clean the torture chamber. At most, he’d slap me across the face, but this time he was different. Angrier.

“Go to your room and wait for me,” he ordered, his nostrils flaring and his jaw twitching.

When I walked past him, I half-expected him to hit me, but he didn’t. Instead, I passed my mother on the way to my room. Her eyes were sad, disappointed even.

“Why did you have to defy him, my sweet boy?” She ran her hands down my arms, stopping me in the hall. “He gave you a direct order. Why did you ignore that?” She squeezed my hands, then let them drop.

I didn’t speak. I couldn’t. For one, I knew he was probably listening, waiting for me to slip up again so he could make my punishment worse. Even more, I didn’t want my mother in between us. He’d hurt her enough without taking out my transgressions on her.

She sighed at my silence and stepped aside, letting me continue upstairs. I went through the list of my possible punishments, but nothing could have prepared me for what he’d landed on.

He walked through the door with a cat-o-nine tails dangling from his hand, an unholy grin on his face. He was looking forward to this.

“Your mother begged me to let this offense slide, but what kind of father would I be if I didn’t teach you?” His steps were slow and methodical, almost cruel, as he barked his next words. “Shirt off, hands on your bed. You’ll receive ten lashings for your sins against me. If you scream, I start over. Let this be a reminder of what will happen if you disobey me again, Keir.”

I followed his order; the sooner it started, the sooner it’d be over.

I’d never felt true physical pain until that day. Not even my father’s slaps would classify as painful compared to being lashed by his special whip, the bones of his victims in the cords.

Each lash was worse than the last, tearing into skin that had already been ripped open. I had to bite down on my tongue to keep from crying out. Blood pooled in my mouth, but I swallowed it, refusing to let my father see how bad he hurt me. I’d never give him that satisfaction.

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