Page 66 of Bite Me

She certainly wielded more control than the crone. Why was the Black Dragon giving in to this woman? Just who the hell was she?

His mate?

No. It couldn’t be.

Jada had said the demon dragons were Kur-Jara’s offspring. If that’s who she was referring to when she said brothers, this family was all kinds of fucked up.

“Come, little daughter. Lay across that rock there so that the dragon and the whore can watch your tears, and so that I can see their pain in your pain.”

The woman, Fallyn, took the position, gripping chains that had been drilled into the rock obviously for this purpose.

Ky jerked against the restraints holding him against the wall. He could not let this woman get whipped. Daughter of the king of hell or not, she didn’t deserve this.

She stared at him for a moment and then gave one sharp shake of her head, before she lowered her eyes staring at nothing.

“How old are you, whore?”

Fallyn didn’t respond.

“Fishy bitch. I asked how old you are. Don’t make me guess, because I assure you I will over estimate.”

“Why does that matter?” The fight and vigor had gone out of Azynsa’s voice, her words were filled with a tremor.

“Because Fallyn is taking your lashes. One for each year old you are.”

Azynsa shook her head and clamped her hands over her mouth.

“Tell me now or I’ll just make it an even hundred.”

“No,” she cried out. “I’m not that old, that’s not fair.”

Kur-Jara blew a stream of fire over the whip, boosting its flames. “One hun—”

“Twenty-three,” she blurted. “I’m only twenty-three.”

“Fine.”

Fuck. He was going to lash Fallyn twenty-three times. Ky couldn’t allow it.

The whip cracked through the air smacking the woman’s back, slicing open her thick leather tunic. She didn’t even flinch.

“One,” she said.

Two more and her shirt fell away all together. Still she counted and barely moved as the fire bit her skin.

Ky’s dragon roared, fighting to get out, scratching and clawing to get to the surface. The crone’s spell held fast.

“Four, five, six.”

Ky jerked at the chains using all of his strength to try and pry them free. Even if he couldn’t shift, he could put his body between that whip and the girl sacrificing herself.

Jada would kill him, when she finally met him in the afterlife.

“Seven, eight, nine, ten.” Her voice wavered on the last number, the first time she seemed affected by the pain of the lashes.

Ky’s scales skittered across his skin, the tattoo on his arm and shoulder writhed, trying to get him moving.

When the count hit twenty, Azynsa turned away, her hands over her mouth, so much pain written across her face.

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