Page 51 of Don't Look Away

Oh, fuck.

I stiffen, curling into myself as tightly as I can when the whip comes down with a crispcrack.It feels like white-hot flames licking my skin, from my shoulder diagonally to my left side. I scream out, and the sound is so animalistic that I wonder if it actually came fromme.

Another sharpcrack.Another searing ribbon of pain is carved into my back. Then another, andanother.It hurts so bad, I unfurl my body, and try to leap off the table. I’m not even thinking, I’m just trying to get away from the pain.

My bare feet hit the tiles, and the leader holds his hand out to my assailant. The guy with the whip allows his hand to fall to his side as he waits for the leader’s verdict.

Have I broken the rules by leaving the table? I don’t know, but I also don’t give a fuck. This shit is twisted.

The leader—Lucas—addresses me calmly. “Do you wish to forfeit?”

Do I hear a hint of hope in his voice? The fucking bastard. He thinks they’ve bested me, that I’m going to give up and save them the trouble of welcoming me into their ranks.

Fuck. Them.

You can do this, Lux.

It’s Bree’s voice, encouraging me, giving me strength.

I lift my chin. “No.”

He nods once, slowly. “Very well. Let’s continue. Turn around.”

It’s amazing how quickly these random college dudes transform into the Knights Templar or whatever the fuck this is. This whole thing is stiff and formal, well scripted. It reeks of a cult, but I keep those thoughts to myself, because the truth is, I need these twisted fucks. For a few weeks, at least. Until I get the answers I need, and then they can suck my dick.

I turn toward the table, as instructed, lowering my head, awaiting the next blow. There’s a long pause, though, and I turn my head to see what’s happening—at the same time, the whip cracks, and the tip licks my left cheek on its way down my shoulder, and back.

“Shit,” the guy says under his breath.

Pain explodes in my face, and I fall to my knees, and on instinct, my hand flies to my cheek.Holy fuck, that hurts.

The attendant rushes over to me. “Are you okay?” she whispers.

I just nod and grit my teeth through the pain. After a couple of minutes, the worst of it subsides. It still feels hot and painful, like I’ve been burned, but I just nod and straighten. “I’m okay.”

I’m not okay, actually. But I just want to get this over with.

The attendant moves away, and I suck in a deep breath. “I’m ready.”

Another crack. Another ribbon of searing pain. I squeeze my eyes shut this time, and swallow the sob that bubbles up from my throat, nearly choking on it.

There’s a long silence, and then, “Turn around.”

When I turn, I see the guy with the whip has stepped back to rejoin the circle, thank God. I swallow, praying that was the worst of it. Tears stream down my face, and I itch to brush them away, but that would bring even more attention to them, so I don’t. I keep my hands plastered to my sides and wait for the next horrible thing.

Lucas steps forward. “On your knees.”

I clench my teeth and do as instructed, wincing as my bare knees hit the cold, hard tiles. Lucas closes the distance between us, stopping right in front of me. Pulling his robe back, he exposes his slacks and reaches for his zipper.

Oh. My. God.

I swallow as I realize what’s about to happen. He’s going to tell me to suck him off in front of everyone.

“This act,” he says, then pauses, like evenheis second-guessing all this. “...consummates your forever bond to the society.”

As I listen, on my knees, I can’t believe this is happening. I can’tbelievewhat’s being asked of me. Granted, I was told in the beginning that I could walk away at any point, but if I do that, I’ll never be welcomed back. All doors to the society will be closed to me, and I’ll be even more in the dark than I was before.

I open my eyes and lift my chin, determined to suck it up and get this all over with. But thoughts of Roman fill my mind—the betrayal of doing this—not just the act of being initiated, but having some other guy's dick in my mouth.

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