Page 97 of Sold to the Devil
“She lost your child?” He cries out, furious. “Bring her to me! Immediately,” he growls.
I feel my heart stop for a few seconds but I nod and teleport to our room without waiting, knowing that walking to the upper floor of the mansion would take too long and would only anger my father further.
Aelys gets up from the couch and comes over to me, worry etched on her face. My mask slips, I let fear flood my eyes, looking at my wife, knowing she'll hate me for this.
I should have just shut the fuck up.
“Is everything alright?” She asks softly, her hand reaching out to my cheek.
I let her place her palm on my skin and close my eyes, letting out a shaky breath.
“He knows,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “He wants to see you. Now.”
I feel her tense and I open my eyes, waiting for her to yell at me. But she doesn't. She simply nods and purses her lips. She quickly changes out of her pajamas and puts on a pair of black pants and a black sweater. Then she intertwines our fingers and looks up at me with resigned eyes.
At her nod, I teleport us back to the reception room on the ground floor, facing the Dark Mage, now busy stroking his snake's enormous head. We both bow, without saying a single word, our faces and eyes devoid of any emotion.
“Aelys,” he hisses menacingly. “You have failed in your task of giving us a Rigast heir. I am disappointed, my child.”
I see her swallow out of the corner of my eye and feel my fingers twitch, desperate to grasp her hand in mine. Yet I remain motionless, knowing it would only make him angrier if he knew how we felt about each other.
“I'm sorry, Master,” she replies in a small voice before clearing her throat.
He clicks his tongue and then laughs maniacally, making us both freeze. I have a feeling I know what's going to happen and I hope I'm fucking wrong.
“Son, punish your wife for her failure.”
My heart sinks to my stomach and I feel my blood run cold.
No.
I don't want to do this. I can't hurt her.Anything but that.
“Master, there may be another way. She is still convalescing-”
“Enough!” He shouts, making my lips close into a thin line. “Either you punish her yourself, or I will. Your choice, son,” he spits, his tongue licking his rotten teeth.
I swallow and stare at the whip on the side table next to my father, but I hesitate to pick it up. My father watches me intently with sickening pleasure, waiting for me to make my decision.
Me or him.
‘It's okay, my love. I want you to do it.’
I fight the urge to close my eyes as her soft voice echoes in my mind. I step forward and slowly grasp the whip, my knuckles turning white from the pressure. I turn to face her, my heart sinks when I see her on her knees, her bare back exposed for the torture I'm about to inflict. A surge of pride washes over me as I realize how strong my wife is.
Invincible.
Unbreakable.
I clench my jaw and force myself to raise the whip before bringing it down on the thin flesh of her back. She tenses at the pain of the blow, even though I do my best to hurt her as little as possible, the torture has to be convincing to my father. He must not detect any affection between us or he will torture her instead. Only, I know he will keep going until she dies.
I don't wait to strike again, then a third, gritting my teeth harder with every low and painful grunt Aelys lets out. By the seventh strike, the pained grunt that escape her lips sounds more like an animal noise, and I freeze, the whip gripped so tightly in my hand that my palm hurts.
My father claps and laughs wickedly as the dull sound of bones cracking and breaking echoes through the room and Aelys stifles a scream. My eyes widen as I see her body convulse, then writhe as she collapses to the marble floor of the reception room. I force myself to stay still, grateful to have my back to my father so he can't see the worry and distress on my face as I watch the woman I love suffer helplessly.
When Aelys's body finally stops convulsing and twisting into humanly impossible angles, I gasp because in my wife's place is now a magnificent lioness. The realization that the torture she endured at Law's hands was stressful enough to activate her shapeshifting side hits me, I gasp quietly, amazed by the beauty of my wife's animal form.
“Well done, my son,” my father applauded, snickering behind my back. “Now I'm going to give you a new task. Find the mole or moles who announced your new wedding date to O'Connor. Bring them to me once you've found them. You're dismissed.”
