Page 126 of In Darkness We Claim

When her eyes finally lock with mine, the stark betrayal glinting within them feels like a cold blade piercing my chest, a fragile ache blossoming in my heart. I don’t let her see any of that, keeping my mask of indifference in place as I turn away from her, addressing the people in the room.

“Silence.” I don’t say the word any louder than I would normally speak, but the room falls quiet in an instant, showing the power I have over them, and the respect the other Pledges have for me and my position.

I stride over to the table beside Harper, keeping my head held high as I hide all of my pain and anxiety over what I’m about to do.

I grasp the worn leather belt that I retrieved from my closet earlier, its familiar coolness seeping into my palms. As I fold it in half, the sharp slap of the material echoes through the silent room, bouncing off the bare walls.

As I stand beside Harper, although I’m speaking directly to her, I look out at the room, projecting my voice for them all to hear. “Tell everyone who you are. Your full name and your role.”

Harper drops her gaze to the floor, but when she speaks, it’s loud and clear, showing more confidence than I’m sure she’s feeling right now. “My name is Harper Westmore, and I’m Lawson Radley’s Prize.”

There’s a mixture of boos and cheers from the people in the room, which only makes Harper’s cheeks turn an even deeper shade of red. I move behind her, but she can’t see with her gaze fixed on the ground in front of her.

I take a deep breath to steel my nerves before slapping the belt against her arse hard enough to leave a welt. Her scream echoes around the room, and she lifts her head enough to glare at me, but I make a point of ignoring her.

“Keep your eyes forward. I want you to look at the people in the room when you speak to them.”

She doesn’t acknowledge I’ve spoken, since I didn’t ask her a question directly, but I punish her for her silence anyway with another strike to her arse, hitting the opposite cheek this time.

While I would normally use my palm to soothe the sting beneath the red welts, I have to clamp my hands into fists to stop myself from reaching out for her. As glistening tears well in her eyes, and she looks at me with an expression of profound betrayal, my heart fractures so severely I doubt its shattered pieces will ever mend.

“Tell the people in the room who your father is.”

Her gaze narrows on me, only this time, she looks furious. She lifts her head and stares out at the crowd as she proudly says, “Bob Westmore is my father.”

I have to bite my lip to stop the smile that’s threatening to break free from seeing how much strength my girl has. She genuinely believes her father is innocent, and she’ll take on anyone who says otherwise. I had counted on that when I cooked up this plan.

While she says his name with pride, the room erupts into loud boos and curses, calling him out for the traitor they believe him to be.

“He’s in prison currently, a traitor to the Obsidian Order. Is that correct?”

As soon as the word no leaves her lips, I slap the belt against her arse two more times, once on each cheek, pulling a scream from deep in her throat. The tears she was trying to hold back are now flowing freely down her face as she pointlessly pulls against the spreader bar.

“He’s innocent,” she manages to say through the sobs.

“Bullshit. He’s a fucking traitor, and you are for standing by him,” Tillie yells, looking murderous as she moves to stand up, but I hit her with a hard glare that makes it clear she isn’t to interfere in this. She sits back down with a huff, as others in the room agree with her.

“Everyone seems to think he’s guilty and is evading punishment, which isn’t the way the Order works. I think you should pay for his crimes,” I tell her, trying my best to make it seem like I’m looking at her without actually doing so. I don’t think my heart can take seeing the sheer betrayal and pain in her eyes.

“Make her fucking pay,” Sienna shouts, as others in the room echo the same sentiment.

After steeling my nerves, I glance at Harper, only to find her holding her head high still, and despite the tears coating her cheeks, she meets my gaze with a defiant challenge. My heart races and my cock twitches—I’m so fucking proud of my girl for showing strength when she doesn’t truly feel it.

Fuck, if that doesn’t just make me hate myself even more.

I close my thoughts off as I lash her arse several more times, only stopping when her curvy backside and the top of her thighs are covered in red welts, as Harper sobs loudly, begging me to stop.

She lets out a shuddered breath when I finally lay the belt down, and I block out the jeers from the crowd. If she thought that was hard, this will break her in ways she never expected.

I lift the wand vibrator, making sure she can see what I have in my hand, but she’s so mentally and physically drained from the belt, she barely registers it. I stop in front of her, so close her breath is fanning over my face, and although her eyes are on me, it’s like she’s looking straight through me.

I nudge her legs wider apart, which is difficult since she’s already on the balls of her feet, but once they’re in position, I lean in close enough to whisper in her ear. “Did you enjoy being punished, sw—Harper?”

I can’t bring myself to use her nickname, not with what I have planned. There’s a flicker of recognition when she hears me switch to her name, but it’s gone just as quickly as she shuts me out, retreating into her own head.

She doesn’t bother to answer me, and so I turn slightly to face our audience, raising my voice so they can hear this time. “I was just asking Harper if she enjoyed her punishment. She’s being a naughty girl and refuses to answer me, but I think I can find out for myself.”

The Pledges cheer loudly when I reach down between her legs, roughly sliding my finger through her slit, finding her wetter than I expected. I lift my soaked finger for all to see, before turning to Harper. “Looks like you really enjoyed it, slut,” I taunt.