The Cold King - Part 2

~ DAVID ~

Emory crawled towards the cell door. Literally crawled. Ass in the air, head low, hands extended ahead of her, she dragged herself across that disgusting floor, closer and closer, pleading.

"P-please, David. You have to—"

"You will speak to His Highness with the respect with which he is due or we will visit the chambers again!" the woman barked.

Emory flinched and froze, her entire body trembling. "I'm s-sorry. I am s-so s-sorry. Your Highness… S-Sire… Please… I will… anything. I will d-do anything you ask—"

"Can you stand?" I tried to make my tone as bored and uncaring as I could, but I could feel the pressure building in my chest.

I was not made for this kind of debased humiliation. I'd been assured that no wounds she'd taken were mortal. None would do more than be painful.