
Rogue Royalty, The Rebel Princess
Chapter 5
My father grinned maliciously, striding around her like a predator closing in on its prey, and it made my stomach churn.
"Well. What do we have here?" he taunted, reveling in the fear he instilled.
He circled her, congratulating his followers for their swift capture. My anger boiled, seeing her terrified, tear-streaked face. She was just about my age, too young to endure such horrors.
"Well, aren't you a pretty little thing," my father sneered, his touch making her flinch. "It's time to make a statement."
He callously dragged her toward the door that led to the containment rooms. My stomach twisted in knots; I couldn't stand idly by. I needed to find a way to help her, to end this vicious cycle of suffering.
Oh no. I can't bear to witness any of this. I refuse to be a part of it. I found myself trailing behind as my father dragged the young girl across the floor and into one of the rooms. The room was of a decent size, containing only a single chair in the center and a table at the end cluttered with distressing tools. I shuddered at the mere thought of what lay there. My heart sank as my father callously dumped the girl into the chair.
Swiftly, he bound her to the chair and removed her gag. She wept quietly, and I stood in the corner, my head down, desperate not to be present or implicated in any way.
"Please, don't do this," she pleaded, her voice quivering with fear.
My father approached her furiously and struck her across the face, causing a pained whimper to escape her lips.
"Don't speak," he sneered menacingly.
I watched in horror as my father then turned towards me, advancing until he pinned me against the wall, his grip on my neck a chilling reminder of his control.
"You will watch and you will learn. Understand?" he sneered at me.
I nodded reluctantly, feeling the release of his grip on my throat. He proceeded to the table and picked up a sharp, silver knife. Its size belied the agony it could inflict, and a cold shiver ran down my spine. As my father approached the terrified girl, ready to cause unbearable pain, I knew I couldn't let this continue.
Before my father could react, I dove at him. I saw the knife slip across the room as it hit the floor with a clatter. My father threw me against the wall after growling at me viciously. I crashed to the ground after taking a severe strike to the wall. The impact knocked all the air out of me, and I gasped for air. When I raised my head, I could see my father approaching. He was furious.
Oh gosh. What did I do? I observed the girl fumbling around in her bindings. She was aware that I would suffer significant harm as a result.
She cried, "Don't hurt her. No.
But it was all for naught. I anticipated the suffering I would soon experience. He gave me a hard kick in the stomach as I attempted to stand up. I shouted out as I fell back to the ground, and then he continued to kick. I was in agony as I writhed on the ground. My ribs were blazing hot. I had trouble moving. To get the knife, my father went around the female. I felt sorry for the girl as she gazed at me. I believed I was going to pass away.
Even trying to breathe was difficult for me as I wheezed. I couldn't make it through this. I coughed up some blood, which I immediately recognized as awful. My father returned with the knife in his hand and stalked over. I was on my back after being forcibly shoved by him as he squatted next to me. I hissed in agony.
My stomach was exposed when he pulled up my t-shirt. Small scars from earlier incidents were already present, but I knew this time would be worse. He approached me from the right side, the blade resting just below the edge of my bra. The knife's tip cutting into my skin was felt by me. My wolf couldn't heal it because it was silver. There would be a scar and it would heal at a human rate.
Before I felt the blood start to stream from the cut, I felt the tip pierce my skin. He cut me from top to bottom of my tummy with the knife. As I shouted in agony, I noticed the girl starting to cry. I pleaded with him to end. I was in excruciating pain. When he got to the band of my jeans, he finally stopped.
The moment the blood started to flow from my wound, he backed away from me. He cleaned the blade of my blood before stepping directly in front of me.
"If you do it again, I'll kill you." My dad said.
I groaned in response before blacking out from pain and blood loss.
End of Flashback
When I woke up, it had been three days. The girl was already dead and had been found by the pack. I was weak and hurt and permanently scarred for life both physically and emotionally. I never forgot that day and every time that I look at the scar it reminds me of that day. This is the kind of things my father can do to me. I am scared. I could easily die by his hands. It's more about when for me.