Novel & Cerita Give Em Whiplash

EMMA. The sound that hit my head wasn’t just a slap; it was the crack of a whip, a sharp, wet thud that echoed against the cold marble of the foyer. The force of it didn't just sting, it shattered the air in my lungs, sending me spiraling backward until my spine collided with the sharp edge of the mahogany console table. I collapsed onto the floor, my vision blurring into a dizzying swirl of white heat and jagged shadows. My cheek didn’t just burn; it throbbed with a rhythmic, sickening pulse that felt like molten lead being poured under my skin. I tasted copper the metallic tang of blood where my teeth had sliced into the inside of my lip.

Every time I shot a wary glance over to him, his eyes were on me. “How’s your neck?” Liam asked as he started up the truck. I reached up to touch the bruise that had formed where he had failed to mark me. I blushed. It looked like a hickey, and I hadn’t been able to find a shirt to cover it. “Just an eyesore.” Liam scoffed. “I was referring to the whiplash.” “Huh?” “You know,” he chided. “You hate me one minute, about to let me mark you the next.”

The only way to reduce that guilt and keep his mind sane is to punish himself. Rafe quickly took off his shirt. He threw his shirt and coat on the floor. Then he knelt on the carpet and started whipping himself hard. A single flick of the whip on his back sent out a searing pain. The second whip created a stinging pain that was so excruciating that it reached his heart. The third whip flash of all regret and sadness evaporated into the air slowly. Rafe felt the whiplash was worth what he had done. The fourth, fifth and so on will wash away all the sadness and regret that clings to his heart. The whipping pain in his back is still lighter than the pain in his heart for hurting Lexie so badly

he said. The word was a flat, clinical command. No emotion. No urgency. The sheer shock of his existence made me flinch. My focus shattered for a fraction of a second, and that looseness was all Emily needed. With a desperate burst of survival strength, she snapped her head sideways and sank her teeth deep into my forearm. I cried out in agony, my arms flying open as a sharp, burning pain flared up my wrist. Emily collapsed to the floor, coughing violently, one hand clamped around her throat as she dragged desperate breaths back into her lungs.

"Kay, as the pack heir, you also handled this situation improperly." Kay lowered his head. "Yes, Father. I accept my punishment." But he immediately looked up, pointing at me. "However, Ella's negligence must also be punished! Otherwise, it won't satisfy the pack! I suggest stripping her of her access to core tactical planning and sentencing her to the silver whip, as an example!" The silver whip! That was a whip laced with silver threads, excruciatingly painful to wolves, like burning the soul. It would severely delay wound healing and could even leave permanent scars and energy damage. Gasps of shock rippled through the crowd.

The lack of self-worth because of men like this shithead right here. I spin and impulsively slap him hard across the face, with the force of all my pent-up emotions of the last week and all the shit Jake has put me through. The strength of the impact stings my hand and I recoil, gasping in shock as it reverberates like a throbbing pulse through my wrist, shaking me back to sense. What the hell did I just do?

At the pack clinic, the healer splinted my wrist, muttering on repeat, "Bone's broken. Your wolf's barely hanging on. Three months, minimum. Push it, and you'll feel it every storm." Emma stormed in, dropped my meds on the table with a bang. "Saw Liam escort Chloe in. Her arm's got a baby scratch, but she whined for premium healing cream. And Liam? Playing nurse—'Does it hurt?' 'Want water?' It was sickening."

He had a hand on my shoulder and one hand felt the back of my head in search of injuries as he frantically called my name. “Are you alright?” he demanded when he noticed me looking at him. “Did you hit your head on the headrest?” “I’m fine.” I shrugged off his touch, and mercifully, he dropped his hands. him and huddled against the door. My neck ached from whiplash and I rubbed at it, grimacing. "What happened?" "Some asshole switched lanes without warning." He replied, mouth set in a grim line. He looked out the windshield and muttered a curse.

Like I said, whiplash. “Eat your breakfast and then get dressed and get to school. Do not be late.” I quickly finish my breakfast for fear my father’s good mood will suddenly shift. In my rush to finish and place my dishes in the dishwasher, I drop the glass. I cringe as it shatters on the ground. The next thing I know, pain is radiating from the back of my head. I fall onto the shattered glass and blood begins to drip from my hands. “Clean this shit up you stupid, stupid girl.”

I hoped not. “Sarah gets… two of clubs! Its said five whips!” I closed my eyes and steadied my breathing. I’ve been whipped before, I can handle it. I hadn’t fully prepared myself when the first sting erupted across my thigh. My body tensed as I looked down at the gash that had formed with blood spilling out. “I laced it with wolfsbane!”