Dennis held his breath, heart hammering against his ribs.
"Do you plan on explaining to the king why his orders weren't carried out?" the second guard snapped back. "You want to volunteer to tell him you decided to be merciful? Good luck with that."
There was a tense silence, broken only by the faint, sickening uncoiling of the whip.
Dennis squeezed his eyes shut, a prayer dying in his throat.
Then he heard it — a soft, muffled grunt from Zoe.
Then the crack of the whip.
Dennis bit down on the inside of his cheek so hard he tasted blood. Every lash that landed on Zoe's delicate, broken body felt like it was being lashed across his own soul. His body trembled, his heart shattered anew with every cruel snap of leather against flesh.
He slid down the wall, fists clenching uselessly against the cold stone. Tears he couldn't stop spilled down his cheeks. For every stroke they delivered to her, a part of Dennis died screaming.
That was his mate. His Luna.
