Razeal kept his gaze fixed on her for several long seconds, saying nothing. His eyes did not waver from her face, as if he were trying to read something buried beneath her expression some hesitation, some guilt, some crack in that composure. But there was nothing. Just that same steady gaze looking back at him. Unflinching. Waiting. It was not defiance, not exactly. It was something heavier than that something already decided. As if she had come here knowing how this would go, and had accepted it long before standing in front of him.
Then, slowly, his eyes lowered.
They fell to the whip lying at his feet.
For a brief moment, something flickered in his gaze.
A memory sharp and unwelcome memory that cut through his mind.
The sound of it slicing through the air.
The crack?
The sting that followed.
The way his body had reacted despite himself.
The weight of eyes watching, judging, whispering.
The humiliation?
Not just the pain of it but everything that came with it.
