Rage fueled my so-called weak muscles. I twisted out of Merdon’s hold and scrambled to my feet.
With a feral smile, he bared his teeth.
“Make me pay, Hannah,” he goaded.
I flew at him. My fists bombarded his chest for a fleeting moment before I was on my back again. The stunned second it took for that to register was all he needed to flip me over. I swore, knowing what he meant to do, and tried to scramble away. But, I wasn’t fast enough to avoid his iron hand.
The crack echoed in the basement.
Snarling, I struggled to my feet. This time, I didn’t fly at him. We circled each other. When he lunged for me, I tried to swivel out of the way. Again, I wasn’t fast enough. I was mean, though, just like he said. When he had me on my back, I bit him.
He retreated with a grunt, and I shot to my feet.
Now that I understood his game, I fought hard to stay off my back. When he did manage to get me there, I did everything I could to avoid being flipped to my stomach. Sometimes, I wasn’t fast enough or strong enough or smart enough, and my ass felt the pain of that failure. Each smack refueled my rage and gave me more will to not end up on the floor.
We went on like this until my limbs shook with effort and sweat coated my skin.
I landed on my back, yet again, not even sure what I’d done wrong to get there, and quickly rolled to escape his grasp. It was a move I’d used before to avoid a spank and regain my footing. This time, everything felt slower, and when I tried to stand, my legs gave out. I tried once more and collapsed to my knees, panting.
“Enough,” Merdon said.
I looked up. He wasn’t crouched, ready to attack, but standing with his legs braced and arms crossed as he studied me. The bastard wasn’t even winded.
“Go upstairs and shower.”
My gaze went to the stairs, and my legs wanted to weep. I couldn’t even stand; how in the hell was I going to manage two flights of steps?
“Or do you want me to carry you?”
I focused on Merdon. Everything ached, and I was exhausted beyond reason. I’d like nothing more than to be carried upstairs, but I knew his offers were always double-edged. There was no way I was in any condition to take him up on another challenge. I was certain that my ass was hot enough from all of his spankings to heat a living room in the Arctic.
“I’ll walk,” I managed.
It took two tries to get to my feet. He watched impassively, without making any offer to help as I shuffled forward. I wasn’t sure my legs would handle the stairs. My thighs threatened mutiny after the third step, and I had to grip the railing like a lifeline as I continued to ascend.
He followed me quietly, his silence making me as nervous as his proximity to my backside. There wasn’t much I could do about the latter, and he and I weren’t so good at the conversation thing.
The sight of my bed almost made me weep. I wanted nothing more than to crawl under the covers, but I knew what would happen if I tried to ignore Merdon’s order to shower. My clothes stuck to my skin from all the sweating I’d done, and I could smell myself. It wasn’t pretty.
I grabbed another clean outfit from the closet and shuffled toward the bathroom. It wasn’t until I was in there that I realized I was alone. I shut the door, stripped, and piled my hair on top of my head. Hopefully, he wouldn’t throw a fit about not washing that, too. It was a little sweaty, but I didn’t think I’d be able to hold my arms above my head long enough to do any good.
Turning away from the mirror, I checked my backside. My mouth dropped open at the perfect outline of a gigantic, glowing red handprint. Merdon had marked me on purpose, smacking me in the exact same spot every time. I mentally called him several names as I climbed into the shower, too smart to say them aloud and antagonize him.
The soap job was rushed, so I put on deodorant as a precaution then dressed.
Merdon was sitting in the chair beside the bed again when I reemerged. I could feel his eyes on me as I hobbled across the room but refused to acknowledge him. He was a sadist, and all I wanted was sleep.
He didn’t try to stop me as I slipped under the covers with a sigh. I closed my eyes, hoping this wasn’t some trick and I wouldn’t find myself on my stomach in two seconds.
“You’ve slept enough. Get out of bed.”
Too fogged by sleep to think clearly, I ignored the warning and burrowed deeper.
A second later, the mattress tilted under me, and I tumbled from the bed to the floor. I landed on my side, tangled in the blankets that had fallen with me.
Lifting my head, I glared up at Merdon as he put the mattress back onto the frame.
“Are you getting up and coming downstairs on your own, or do you need help?”
I snarled at him. He showed me his teeth.
“You have five minutes.”
He left the room.
Bastard.
In the middle of my angry thoughts, I realized what he’d finally given me. This was my chance to escape. I struggled free of the blankets and looked around the room. My windows were still nailed shut. I could break them, but I’d never be fast enough; I’d only end up sleeping in a freezing room tonight. I noted the early morning light before my gaze shifted to the hall.
Emily’s room wasn’t over the porch, but I could easily drop from the window to the ground without breaking anything. Maybe? I chewed my lip in indecision before I hurried to my dresser and pulled on two pairs of socks.
I was running out of time.
Before I finished, doubts began to eat at my urge to escape. Five minutes wasn’t much of a head start, and I’d leave footprints in the snow. He’d be on me before I reached the wall. And if he wasn’t? Then what? Did I really think some other fey would deliver me to Tenacity? I had to try, though, didn’t I? What he and Emily were doing was wrong. They couldn’t just keep me locked up like this.
I crossed the hall, still trying to imagine what I’d do once I was on the ground. All the possibilities vanished the moment I tried the knob. Emily’s door was locked. I stared at it in confusion. She never locked it.
“Emily is not in her room,” Merdon said.
I slowly turned my head and found him watching me from the bottom of the stairs.
My stomach sank. Not only was hope of escape just a dream, I knew what waited for me if I walked down those stairs. I did not want to go to the basement with Merdon. Yet, what other choice did I have?
“I hate you,” I whispered.
“I know.”
Resolutely, I started down the stairs. My legs weren’t okay. Last night’s exertions had to have damaged them in some way. That was the only explanation for the bone deep ache echoing in my thighs.
Merdon silently watched me limp my way down to him. There was no pity in his gaze, and I knew he wouldn’t go any easier on me today because of my aches. I cursed my impulsive stupidity for doubling up on socks and not underwear and pants, and I couldn’t help but wonder if his handprint was still gracing my backside. If it wasn’t now, it would be before long.
I reached the second to last step and stopped, unable to go farther because Merdon hadn’t moved. Even with the additional height of the steps, I had to tip my head to meet his gaze.
“I hope the timer isn’t still running,” I said.
He blinked at me.
“For the five minutes,” I clarified. “It’s not fair if you block the way so I can’t meet the requirements.”
“Do you find anything fair?” he asked.
“Since the quakes? Never.”
He grunted and stepped aside to let me pass. I hesitated, not trusting that it wasn’t some kind of trick, then cautiously moved forward with narrow-eyed suspicion. I hoped he didn’t think my hesitation was due to fear. It wasn’t. It was due to a healthy respect for his big hand and fast reflexes.
When I veered to the basement stairs, he stopped me.
“No. Breakfast first.”
I wasn’t expecting that. I also wasn’t expecting to see Emily in the kitchen despite his warning that she wasn’t in her room.
Frowning suspiciously, I glanced back at Merdon as I made my way to the kitchen island. If Emily was cooking, had he locked her door because he’d known I would try to use her windows? I didn’t want to think about the implication of him anticipating my actions when I was so clueless about his.
Emily didn’t say her usual chipper ‘good morning’ as she set a plate of eggs and pancakes before me. Her silence suited me just fine. We had nothing to say to one another, except maybe goodbye.
Merdon took the seat beside me. He received a warm smile from her, which I pretended not to notice, and a plate full of reconstituted eggs. The heaping mess of yellow, crumbly goo made me cringe. I’d never be able to eat that much and keep it down. Even the amount on my plate, a third the size of his, would be a struggle. Especially if he intended to flip me around on the mats like he had the night before.
Maybe that was his plan. Make me slow and heavy with food and unable to save my backside. No, thank you.
I only planned to eat lightly because of that. But the first bite tasted way better than I remembered, and I was starving from yesterday’s liquid diet. Before I knew it, every single bit of food was gone from my plate.
“Do you want more?” Merdon asked.
“No. Am I allowed to go to the bathroom, or will that get me tossed to the floor and spanked?” I asked, looking directly at him.
“Hannah, you’re not a prisoner,” Emily said, speaking for the first time.
“Tell my ass that,” I said without breaking eye contact with my tormentor. “You might want to inform your muscle that he needs to take it down a few notches today or I won’t be able to join you for another quaint family meal this evening.”
She gave me a hurt look.
“Stop being mean to Emily. She’s done nothing to deserve it.”
I could hear the warning in Merdon’s tone but didn’t care. I leaned toward him, challengingly.
“Or what?”
His expression hardened.
“Use the bathroom upstairs then meet me in the basement. You have two minutes.”
“And if I say no?”
A hint of anticipation lit his gaze.
“There’s always the other side.”
It took a moment for me to realize he meant my other butt cheek. My face flamed with anger, and I stood stiffly.
“I’ll be right back.”
My legs protested any form of hustle as I made my way upstairs, and they shook when I sat to use the toilet. They’d be fine in a few more days. Hopefully. I wasn’t as certain about my backside, though, so I stuffed a fluffy hand towel in my pants.
Satisfied with my handiwork, I went back downstairs. Merdon was waiting for me at the bottom of the steps again. Did he think I’d try to make a break for it if he wasn’t there guarding me? He was probably right. I hated feeling this trapped even as I acknowledged there wasn’t anywhere I’d be able to go where Merdon wouldn’t find me. If I even got that far. Stupid fey.
Ignoring both Emily and Merdon, I marched to the basement. I could feel him behind me the entire way. When I reached the mat, I turned and watched him, unwilling to walk onto the black mat with him at my back.
He didn’t stop until he reached the middle and faced me.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“For another beating? No. I’d rather not repeat that.”
“You know what to do to avoid it. Don’t let me get you on your back.”
He crouched slightly, letting me know that the ass whooping was about to begin.
“I didn’t realize fey had fetishes,” I said, assuming the same stance but far warier. “Spanking, I could see, but the need to dominate a species that had no chance of possibly besting you is just sick.”
“I am not doing this to dominate you.”
“It is just about the spankings?” I straightened. “Then put me over your knee and get it done. My legs are too sore from last night to put up a fight anyway.”
“I am not doing this to spank you.”
“My ass begs to differ. It feels like your handprint is still there. And you were far too excited in the kitchen about the prospect of spanking the other side. Admit it. You liked spanking me. Does Emily know?”
I was on my back in a second. I tried to bite him, but he arched out of the way and had me on my stomach in the next second. His hand came down on my other cheek just as he’d promised. The sting wasn’t as sharp as last night, and I grinned at my forethought…until I realized his hand was still on my butt. And, that it moved in a slow circle.
“What the hell are you doing, pervert?” I tried bucking off his hold, but he had one hand in the center of my back, pinning me in place.
His hand traveled up to my waistband. I knew I was in trouble the moment his fingers dipped into the elastic.
“Emily! He’s going to ass rape me, damn you!”
Merdon ignored me and tugged the hand towel free. I let my head fall to the mat in defeat. There’d be no sitting later today.
“This is cheating,” he said softly, tossing the towel on the mat near my face. “You will learn nothing without the sting of failure.”
“I’m learning nothing now, other than you’re a sadistic asshole. If you want me to learn something, teach me; don’t beat me.”
His hand left my back, and he lifted me to my feet like I weighed nothing.
“I get that life isn’t fair, in general, but you getting me on my back is a sure thing.”
“Is it?”
“You know it is.”
“Yet you managed to avoid it a few times last night.”
“Because I got lucky, played dirty, and was desperate not to get spanked.”
“So, do it again.”
“It wasn’t easy!” I let my frustration bleed through. Mostly because if we were talking, he wasn’t smacking my ass.
“It’s not supposed to be. You’re too slow, too weak, and aren’t thinking. You need to get better at all three if you want to have any chance.”
I fisted my hands as he crouched.
“Don’t just tell me why I’m failing. Show me how to fix it.”
“Crouch low, anchor your feet, and be ready. When I come at you, read how I’m coming at you. If I’m aiming high, go low. If I’m going low, go high.”
“Go high? That’s your advice? I’m not fey. I can’t jump like you.”
“So don’t.”
He charged at me, going slower than normal. His gaze was on my face. His hands reached for my arms. He was going high. I dropped and rolled. Instead of rolling away, I tumbled toward him, tripping up his feet.
Had he been less nimble, I would have liked to believe that he would have fallen on his face. I wasn’t that lucky, though. He recovered his balance. Springing to my feet, I ignored the protest in my legs and braced myself for another attack.
“That was good,” he said. “You saw what I intended and did the opposite. Rolling toward the danger isn’t smart, though. Use your head.”
“Says you. You’re too fast. Rolling toward you was to try to trip you up. Rolling away from you wouldn’t have done any good. You would have still caught me. This gave me a chance to get to my feet.”
He grunted and got back in the crouch position.
“No spankings. Today, I’ll bite.”
“What!”
He moved. I barely had time to pivot to the left and run, squealing.
“Good,” he said, returning to the center of the mat.
I unwedged myself from between a stack of boxes and looked at the insane grey man calmly regarding me.
“Good?” I demanded. “You just told me you were going to bite me. That is not okay. I want the spankings back. No biting.”
“I won’t break the skin.”
I couldn’t even respond to that. In no way was I reassured.
“Why are you doing this?”
“You said you wanted me to teach you.”
I snarled at him, knowing he was purposely misunderstanding me. He took the snarl as go-time because he immediately dropped into a crouch and charged me. Thankfully, he was continuing to hold back. I dropped to my knees this time and aimed a fist for his dick.
He quickly spun out of the way with a growl, and I popped to my feet to watch him.
“Good.” The word was grudgingly given. “That won’t always work, though.”
“I don’t need it to always work. I only need it to work enough to not get bitten.”
He grunted and crouched.
I wanted to scream in frustration. This wasn’t teaching me anything useful. No matter what he said, he had to be getting some kind of sick pleasure from chasing me around and beating me. And now, biting me, apparently. I really, really didn’t want that to happen.
He shifted his weight. That split-second warning was what I needed to bolt in the opposite direction as he came at me. My pride at seeing what he intended quickly evaporated as he adjusted course and was on me in a blur.
My back hit the mat. Panic and desperation flooded me. I couldn’t be bitten.
I used everything. Fists, nails, knees, hips. I bucked, and I twisted, and I fought like a wild cat. None of it stopped him from grabbing both my hands, settling his weight on my torso to pin me, and biting down on my bicep.
It fucking hurt. I cried out and struggled harder.
He got off of me and stared down as I glared up at him.
“You failed because you panicked.”
“I failed because you’re bigger, stronger, and a mean son of a—”
The bastard flipped me over and spanked me. Hard.
I squealed and scrambled to a sitting position.
“You said no spankings!”
“Stop being mean.”
I glared at him in silent mutiny, my backside stinging with the irony in his statement.
“If you don’t want to be bitten, keep my mouth away from you. Hitting me and kicking me are useless. You know none of that will stop me, so why do it?”
I hated him for biting me. I hated him for forcing me to do this. But mostly, I hated him for repeating what I’d been trying to tell him all along. I had no chance of winning against him. Oblivious to my growing anger, he continued.
“Think, Hannah. Don’t panic.”
He motioned for me to get up.
I wanted revenge so badly that I snapped. I didn’t just get up; I flew at him. His eyes went wide as he caught me. I opened my mouth, ready to bite his nipple clean off since it was the closest thing at the moment. But, he blocked me with a forearm under my chin.
My teeth clacked together as he nudged upward and back. I stumbled away, effectively stopped from succeeding. Instead of getting angry about it, I grinned ferally. He was teaching me something.
“Finally,” I growled.
He blinked at me, and surprise registered on his face as I flew at him again. I went for the same nipple. There was a good chance he wouldn’t repeat the previous blocking move. But, he seemed to always do the exact opposite of whatever I thought he’d do.
Finally, I got something right.
He thrust his hand out. I could see that he meant to plant it in my chest. I ducked, mouth open. His middle finger deep-throated the hell out of me. I swallowed my gag and clamped down.
All motion stopped.
A breath hissed out of him.
He didn’t try to pull his finger free. He probably would have ripped my teeth out if he had. And, I didn’t let go. I was biting down on his fucking finger for all it was worth.
“Bis is whab ib feews wike,” I said. “Nah goob, inna?”
He wasn’t looking at my face. He was staring at his lost middle finger.
“I suggest you stop now, Hannah,” he said, his voice rough.
When he looked up, the cold, calculating look in his eyes terrified me. I immediately released him and gagged when his finger brushed my uvula on the way out.
He didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Just stared at his finger.
Swallowing thickly, I looked down at the twin marks my front teeth had made just above the base of the third knuckle. It was bad. As in, almost-broke-the-skin bad.
“Go drink some water,” he said, without looking up at me.
I tried not to let my surprise show and bolted for the stairs.
Freedom.