Page 19 of The Lost Child

Master came to stand over me, and I could practically feel his fury. “The only hand you feed from is mine. Do you understand?”

Before I could even nod, the whip came down hard on my back. I hissed in pain, panicking and tucking my wings tightly against my back. Master hadn’t beaten me with a whip in years, but the last time he had I thought I would die from the agony as he hit my wings.

I expected him to yell at me more, but he didn’t. He just kept bringing the whip down again and again. I didn't cry out. It always hurt worse when I cried out.

I had failed then. Surely I wasn’t meant to fight and kill the female? What was the point?

If it was a test in obedience, then I was glad I failed. I would take my whipping gladly if it meant she lived.

The next slash of the whip landed directly on the first patch of skin he’d hit, and I grunted low in my chest. It hurt.

For the first time, anger bubbled up in my throat. Why was the master punishing me? Females weren’t meant to be killed. They were beautiful. Valuable. Needed.

“You fucking beast, you don’t accept food or medicine from my daughter!”

In his anger his control slipped, and he missed the mark, tearing a brand new strip of flesh on my back.

She’d fed me. Cared for my wounds.

I liked it; it felt good. Before her, I thought life was only pain and suffering. But maybe… maybe there was more. Now I knew differently, and it was like the beginning embers of a hot fire. Not everyone was cruel and brought pain. Just him:the master. A strange new emotion flooded through me, tightening every muscle in my body.

Master didn’t have to starve me and chain me. He didn’t have to hit me with his whip to get me to do his bidding. I would do something if he asked me to.

Master hurt me because he wantedto. Because he liked it.

The next lash hit and I dug my hands into the ground beneath me, a growl rumbling in my chest.

“What, going to do something about it?” He snarled and the whip landed perilously close to my head. I let him continue to whip me, knowing there was no escape. I would accept his punishment this time, because I had to. But something deep inside of me had changed because of the female.

And the master was scared because he knew it.

That was why he put his full strength into his whip this time, trying to flay my skin down to the bone. “You are mine,” he ordered, sounding as crazed as I’d ever heard him.

I turned my head to the side as far as I could and glared at him, the anger in my chest building like it did during battle. But this time, the battle was right here.

“Gerrick! Erog! Get in here!”

I didn’t resist as the others jumped on me and pressed me down into the dirt, my back flat and on full display.

Again and again, he whipped me, but I didn’t feel it. His whip wouldn’t change my thoughts! It couldn’t take away what I’d learned.

And it was all thanks to the female.

In battle, men feared me; they fled in droves, pissing themselves as they went. Why then should this man with his whips and chains be any different?

I acted first without any thought. I pushed with all my strength, and the crank turned at the unexpected shift of weight. The chains loosened. I threw two men off me, watching with satisfaction as they fell to the dirty floor. I couldn’t move any further. Or could I?

“Canavar, down,” Master barked out.

I ignored him and tested the weight of my chains.

“Don’t you dare,” Master threatened, but I noticed the fear in the whites of his eyes, and how he moved back, just one frightened half-step.

It was enough.

“TIGHTEN THE CHAINS! DO IT NOW!”

The other men ran out of the cell and I lunged. One man reached the crank just as I had Master’s belt in my claws, pulling him closer toward my teeth. This close, the whip had no use for him.

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