Zawla (The Hallans #1) Read Online Bethany-Kris

Categories Genre: Alien, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Insta-Love Tags Authors: Series: The Hallans Series by Bethany-Kris
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Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
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I reach the top of the stairs and don’t waste time peeking around the corner, because if my father is in the hallway, it’s too late anyway. I only allow myself to look down the hallway as I run to my bedroom door. I open it, much more loudly than I’d like and then dart into my room. The light shining inside my bedroom lets me know that I’m too late.

The terror that rushes through me as I look at my father sitting on the end of my bed is unlike any I have ever felt. The way he appears so relaxed only makes it grow. I know my father all too well. The more relaxed he is before he begins my punishment, the worse he—and it—is by the end. The more hurt I will be.

I have to try to salvage this. Now. If he gets off that bed, there is no going back. Once he begins, he won’t stop until he feels I’ve suffered enough. I search for something, anything to say. When his head slowly turns, when his eyes meet mine and I see the anger brewing in them, I know my time is up.

“Hello, father,” I say with as big a smile as I can muster. “I must not have heard you come up because I was in the bathroom.”

“I see.”

Two words. That’s it.

They tell me nothing, and yet send a new wave of fear rushing through me.

We sit in silence, me barely breathing because I’m afraid they’ll come out too heavy and give me away, and him staring at me as if all my lies are written on my face.

“Close the door, Selina.”

“Father?” The word shudders out of me, though, betraying my fear.

“Close. The. Door.” He begins to stand now and everything in his posture tells me what’s coming. The way he takes a deep breath, like he always does before he turns my world into nothing but pain. The way his hands clench and unclench, readying for what he’ll use them for. The way he widens his feet so I can’t get between him and the bed.

“Father, please,” I beg.

I might feel shame for the way tears flow from my eyes now, or the croak in my voice if I didn’t know and dread what’s in store for me. And that absolutely no one will come to help me regardless of how loud I scream.

“I was in—”

“You lie to me again and I will personally escort you to the sanitorium so they can rip every single one of your teeth out.”

He knows. He knows about the basement. He wouldn’t be this upset about just finding me out of bed. I am in more danger than I thought. So, instead of coming further into the bedroom and closing the door behind me to surrender to the consequences my father’s about to dole out, I take a step back. My father’s eyes widen with surprise, and then narrow with a blazing rage. I only meet his gaze for a second before I turn and run.

I make it three steps before I bump into a hard body. At the same time that I look up to find Charles before me, grinning down, new hands grab my forearms from behind me, pulling me back to the very room I just tried to flee. I should have known better. My shock of someone dragging me into my bedroom wears off as soon as I see my father standing beside the bed. Hands behind his back, stoic expression on his face, he waits.

“No, no!” I cry. “Father, please, I won’t go again! Please!”

It doesn’t surprise me that I plead and promise never to transgress again. It’s not the first time. What surprises me is that this time it’s a lie, and I know it. I mean none of it.

My father ignores me completely, instead speaking to the soldier. “On her knees.”

I scream out when the man behind me, I have no idea who, forces me down until I have no choice but to bend my legs. On my knees, I look at Charles blocking my bedroom door and my father staring down at me like I am nothing more than some disobedient, weak female. Not his daughter. His flesh and blood. Just someone to be disciplined.

“Did you think I wouldn’t know, Selina?” he asks. “Did you think I was ignorant of what goes on in my own home?”

I know better than to answer, and no words will save me now, anyway.

“Oh, you thought I didn’t know about your little trips to the library all these years?” He snickers and shakes his head. “I gave you that small freedom and what did you do with it?” At my silence, his lip curls, and then he shouts, “What did you do?”

“I-I only went there for books. I didn’t know. I was just—”


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