Princess Arya was forced to marry the winner of the tournament her father had held to stop the war. King Kohl was the strongest among all alphas and she despised the fact that the barbarian had won her hand and future title. She hated him and and hi...
"Why won't you just say it! Just say the words: Yes, Pascal, you are my new King. Say it!" Pascal yelled to the man who was tied up by his hands, bound to a wooden pole.
"Never!" the alpha replied.
"Fine! Flog him again!"
The executioner did what he could do best: Beat the life out of another human being. He raised his whip and struck it down, slashing the skin on Aema's back.
"Hmmpff!" Aema wanted to scream in pain but pursed his lips instead and bit his tongue. It hurt so much that he almost passed out but he wouldn't scream. He owed Kohl that much.
His back was already torn to shreds and blood ran down, all the way to his hips, legs, feet, and the ground, but he would never acknowledge Pascal as his King, nor would he break in pain for him. Never!
"You are so steadfast. Or should I say stubborn? Everybody here has pledged his loyalty to me. All, except for you!" Pascal sighed. "You know what...I don't think this kind of torture will work. You are a hardened warrior. But you know, Aema, everyone has a weakness, even hardened warriors, and I think I've seen you looking at yours earlier today..."
Pascal walked over to Brianna and grabbed the beta by her hair, plucking her out of the crowd. The people needed to watch what happened if one wouldn't listen to their new King. This shall be a good lesson for everyone.
"So, maybe I can persuade you in other ways!" Pascal yelled at Aema and he ripped open Brianna's shirt, yanked it off, leaving her displayed half-naked in front of everyone, and turned her around till she stood with her back towards Aema. Brianna began to cry, feeling so helpless.
"Look at this pretty flawless back, Aema. Maybe we should make a nice red painting on it as well. It can match yours!" Pascal screamed, stroking his hand on top of Brianna's smooth skin.
"No!" Aema yelled. "NO!" He pulled at his restraints, showed his teeth to Pascal, and roared with anger.
The new King walked towards him and dragged Brianna with him. He then pushed Brianna to the ground, on her knees, to sit directly before Aema.
Brianna looked up into Aema's eyes, and she looked so scared. She was so scared. She wasn't brave or introduced to a world of violence like Aema was! Or any of the other Gearians were.
"Executioner!" Pascal said, waving the man to come over and the man holding the whip understood what was needed from him so he walked to his next victim.
"No...n-no!" Brianna cried out and looked at Aema with frightened, teary eyes. She didn't want to get whipped.
"Wait!" Aema screamed. "Don't hurt her! Fuck! Ok, you win. Pascal...I acknowledge you as my new...King!" Aema yelled, almost not able to pronounce the words. But he had no other choice.
"Good!" Pascal said, pleased. "Fucking finally!"
Aema balled his fists in anger. He had been wrong, the man had broken him in the end. He had broken him with unfair play. But there was no other option, Brianna was more important than his loyalty towards Kohl at the moment.
The beta sighed in relief and looked at Aema with grateful eyes.
"But you know..." Pascal continued. "You should have said it sooner. Now, I feel like I must punish still." The King looked at the executioner. "Whip the beta three times... So that Aema and everyone else here, know that they should listen to their King!"
━━✥◈✥━━
"Mira, I can watch him again," Arya said after she had slept for a few hours. Mira had been taking care of Kohl, wiping his sweat and keeping him cool. "How is he?"
"The same... Ok, then I will sleep now. Do you feel a little better?" Mira asked.
"Yeah...I feel less tired."
Arya sat on the chair next to the bed. She suddenly felt a touch of a hand. Kohl had grabbed hers, still deep asleep. Arya looked at it and held his husband's hand tighter. With her other hand, she lightly caressed it. She was an omega, after all, so she was naturally caring. "This is a good sign," Mira said. "He's getting more clear."
"That's good," Arya replied. "Uh...Mira?"
"Yes?"
"Are you...a witch?" Arya asked, slightly fearing the woman's answer. She just needed to know.
Mira laughed. "Some people say I am, but I wouldn't call myself a witch. I would say that I'm a healer and that witches don't exist in this world."
"Ok," Arya said relieved.
"You don't have to fear me. I promise I'm no witch."
"I'm glad to hear that."
Mira softly smiled. "I wanted to say that I'm sorry for all the horrible things your husband has been through."
"...?"
"The scars," Mira said, nodding at Kohl.
"Oh, yes. They're from battle," Arya replied.
"Hmm. Not all of them."
"What do you mean?" Arya wondered.
Mira lifted Kohl's arm and pointed at a group of scars. It must've at least been twenty or thirty cuts next to each other.
"Those are defeat cuts," Mira said.
"Huh?"
"Every time you lose a fight, a cut is made. But these look like they're very old cuts, probably long before he was an adult. Defeat cuts are normally not given to children. And he also has flogging scars on his back. His scars are definitely not all scars of war." Mira explained and she walked to the other corner of the room and dropped in the chair. "But now I'll sleep, I'm tired." She yawned. But before she closed her eyes to take a nap she said:
"How could you not know this? I know that you two are mates, I can smell your bond."
Arya looked at Kohl and wondered what the man's life must have been like while growing up, and if that was the reason that he was, as he was.
Maybe there still was some good left inside of him.
Somewhere deep.
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