🦋ALTHEA
It stung like hell.
My hand.
The room froze, even as the sharp crack of the slap continued to echo—once, twice—off stone and steel.
Ivanna stood motionless, eyes wide, watching in real time as her cheek bloomed red, the imprint of four of my fingers burning into her skin.
I had raised my hand.
I had slapped her.
For the first time in my life, I wasn't the one being struck.
It was the other way around.
Apologise
My brain screamed at me.
Say you are sorry.
BEG.
My mind echoed command after command, each subconscious voice louder and more aggressive than the last.
My thighs shifted, my knees buckled, trying to force me to kneel.
"How dare you—" Ivanna screeched, high enough for me to flinch, her hand came up—and shifted—to claws.
All bravery drained out of me in an instant as the claw came for me. All I did was brace, I didn't move or attempt to stop it.
