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I-I’ll become his.
“Baba, don’t do this. Take me upstairs. We’ll talk. I’ll listen for once. I promise I’ll—fuck.” I hissed in pain as the sharp stab of a needle pierced my arm.
I thrashed in the chair, but it made no difference. The leather straps had never yielded before, and they didn’t yield now.
I was trapped.
Tied down.
Completely at their fucking mercy.
My pulse skyrocketed as the doctor stabbed me repeatedly, following the edge of my tattoo, administering the numbing drug until my entire arm felt spongy and sluggish and soft.
“No. Fuck. Don’t. I don’t want you to do this. Don’t cut me again. Please.”
“I don’t want to do it either,” Cem whispered. “I considered laser or other ways of removal, but they all take time. And we don’t have time anymore. This is the quickest way to free you. Believe me, causing you pain is the last thing I want to do. I love you, Aslan. With all my heart. I’m only doing this for your protection and future happiness.”
“Fuck you.” My temper snapped, hot and brutal, as the doctor ripped open a scalpel and placed it inside a metal tray beside a stack of gauze and something that looked suspiciously like skin floating in a vial. “I’ll never forgive you for this. No matter how much you break me. No matter how much you think you’ve won, one day...I will remember. I will fight back. I will hunt you, hurt you, and then I will motherfucking kill you.”
Terror tore through me, and I let loose another torrent of filth. “I will rip you apart, Cem Kara. I will dismantle your empire. I will slaughter your men. I will piss on your bones and dance on your grave. I will fucking end you.”
“I appreciate your fury, Aslan. You are living up to your name quite well, but...you will never hurt me.” He sighed heavily. “Want to know why?” His eyes flashed. “Because I have never failed at this. Not once. And I will not fail my only son. This is the beginning of us, Aslan. This is the beginning of everything.”
Nodding at the doctor, he ordered, “Do it.”
Memories of passing out just before they hacked off my leg ploughed into me.
The helplessness.
The tragic awful powerlessness.
That was the worst part.
Knowing my body wasn’t mine.
My mind wasn’t mine.
My life was theirs, and they could do whatever they damn well wanted.
“Fuck you!” I screamed as the knife traced the outline of my lion’s mane, tugging and pulling but painless. “Fuck all of you!”
No one replied.
My blood plopped onto the floor.
I kept on screaming as my siren was slowly peeled off me.
*
Three years...
*
“I spoke to Nerida tonight. It seems she’s formed a habit of calling me each year on the anniversary of your death.” Cem chuckled as he finished buckling the leather around my left arm.
My eyes locked on the ugly scar where my tattoo used to be.
I supposed I should be grateful that I’d gotten so sick after the surgery. For a simple ‘routine’ slice and dice, my system went into shock.
