Retribution (Kall Alien Warriors #3) - Sue Lyndon Page 0,18

of betrayal filled her, though it was completely ludicrous. Somehow, she’d thought she might get through to him. She’d also been lulled into a false sense of security since he’d left her alone for so long. Being kept in the nicest cell in the brig had also given her hope that maybe, just maybe, General Zamek wasn’t as cruel as she’d originally thought.

“Very well,” she whispered as her hands moved to the front of her pants. She removed her pants and placed them on the bed. She trembled as she reached around to unhook her bra, then allowed the undergarment to slide off her arms to join her pants on the bed. Keeping her gaze low—she couldn’t bear to look at the general right now—she stepped out of her panties and tossed them aside.

Completely naked, she stood cowering in the corner. She felt vulnerable, stripped of her defenses. He held all the power, and she couldn’t stop him. She would have to endure.

She felt the wet warmth of her tears coating her face. She couldn’t help it, though she wished she could face General Zamek with bravery and take this beating without screaming out in pain. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, but she suspected more tears would soon follow and she wouldn’t manage to remain quiet. He would witness her sorrow and hear it. And that’s exactly why he was doing this—because he was a monster who wished to see her suffering.

He stepped closer, so near she could feel the heat of his body. She sucked in a shaky breath, once again praying this ended quickly.

Without warning, he grabbed her arm and pulled her from the corner, dragging her into the center of the cell. He pushed down on her shoulder.

“On your knees, human.”

She dropped to her knees as another tear escaped her eyes. She expected the beating to begin immediately, but he stepped back and she felt his dark gaze upon her. Her hair obscured her face as she lowered her head.

The only violence she’d ever endured was the one slap Michael had given her, and on the day she left him, when he’d grabbed her roughly and shaken her. She didn’t precisely know what to expect, but she knew it would hurt.

General Zamek started to circle her, his bootsteps echoing in the cell. Her heart pounded so loudly she was certain he could hear it. The room was cold, and she shivered as goosebumps rose on her arms.

She cast a mournful look at her destroyed shirt. Keeping warm in the cell would prove difficult without the long-sleeve shirt. She’d been ripped away from her life on Earth and the only possessions she’d had were the clothes on her back. The general knew that. Ruining her shirt was especially cruel.

She tensed when he paused behind her and trailed the leather strap over her bare back. Her stomach bottomed out. Any moment now, he might start whipping her.

When I make you bleed, I want to see it.

This specific threat made her cold all over.

“Are you frightened?” he asked, and the sudden question surprised her.

“Yes, General,” she said, barely a whisper.

“Good. I imagine Shessema was terrified when your husband attacked her.”

He continued trailing the leather across her back and she shuddered. He bent down and reached for her hair, drawing it over her shoulder, better exposing her back for the lash. His fingers brushed over her flesh, eliciting more goosebumps. She was terrified of him but also strangely drawn to him in a way she didn’t quite understand. He was pure power, a magnetic force from which she couldn’t seem to extract herself.

She closed her eyes and tried to distance herself from him, tried to allow her mind to drift away from the present. But his enticing masculine scent and the warmth radiating off his huge, muscular body kept her grounded in the moment.

He rose to his feet and brought the strap down across her back.

The pain. Oh, God, the pain.

She fell forward on her hands, gasping at the agonizing sting. A sob erupted from her throat. He knelt before her and grasped her chin, forcing her gaze to his.

“Did that hurt?” he asked, his question surprising her again. He searched her eyes.

“Y-yes,” she replied in a shaky voice. Of course it hurt. The sting hadn’t yet faded and she half wondered if he’d broken the skin.

“Good. Your husband hurt Shessema very badly.”

“What would your wife think if she could see you now?” Layla asked, even though a