The chains rattled as Celeste whimpered. A wave of pain cut through her legs and hands.
"You can't do this to us!" she screamed, but the figure before her did not care.
Slowly, the rest of the family awoke from their slumber, their eyes narrowed, and panic slugged within them, and their bodies shivered from the cold and cuts.
Elias's voice rang cold and clean, like freshly baked pastry—sweet, delicious, yet hot.
"Welcome to your new home."
The scent of iron and blood was thick in the air.
"How can you do this to us... We are family!" Mr. Sterling yelled.
"Family," Elias murmured.
The word burned on his tongue. It was the perfect quote for liars, users, and betrayers wrapped in dignity. He had not forgotten, but he had not expected them to seek his help shamefully rather than run.
Slowly, Elias stepped forward, his hands tightening on the whip and his eyes cold.
