The Sacrifice: A Dark Revenge Romance
The Sacrifice: Chapter 7

I forgot what actual power felt like. It’s been a long time since I’ve used it for my own benefit. I hide in Blackout like a bat to a cave. I prefer the neon lights and pounding music to fresh air and sunlight.

But this? This is refreshing. Although I didn’t think it would be all that hard.

I walk over to the bag that Ryat dropped when we entered. Watching her rub her neck, I see her eyes dart to the stained glass window and then the door. She wants to run. To get as far away from me as possible. “This is going to happen,” I say, unzipping the bag and pulling out what I need her to see. “And just in case you think you have an exit in mind, let this be a reminder.” I drop the stuff to the floor and her eyes widen when she sees what I have.

“Ty—”

I step back into her, making her inhale sharply. “You’ve got two choices here, Lake.” Her pretty tear-filled blue eyes search mine. “You either willingly walk down that aisle to me, or you crawl on your hands and knees with a collar around your neck while I drag you by a leash.”

Her bottom lip trembles at my words as reality starts to set in. “Please,” she begs softly, her bare shoulders shaking.

“Ah, begging me already?” It’s like fucking music to my ears. If only her father was in here to witness it. I knew it wouldn’t take much. She’s not as strong as them, but that’s not her fault. It’s a product of her parents. Laikyn has no clue she’s been conditioned to be obedient. To beg for the simplest things in life.

Reaching up, I cup her face, and her lips part. I run my thumb over the nude-colored lipstick. “Don’t underestimate my ability to humiliate you, darling. It will happen. But right now, I’m giving you the choice of it being another time in the privacy of our home, or in front of everyone you love.”

A tear falls free of her black-painted bottom lashes. I catch it with my knuckles before it runs down her face, wiping it away. “Don’t cry, Lake. You’ll ruin your makeup. I’ll do that later.”

It’s been three years since I’ve seen her, and she looks nothing like she used to. She once had dark hair, now it’s bleach-blond. She has it pulled into a tight bun at the nape of her neck, showcasing her Barbie-doll face, pouty lips, and bright blue eyes. Her wedding gown is strapless and dips down between her breasts into what gives the illusion of a heart. My eyes drop to look, and I can tell she’s had her tits done.

That’s Luke’s doing. The Lord knows what he likes, and he had time to transform his future wife into exactly that. She’s been groomed to perfection just how he wants her. I wouldn’t say I don’t like it, but it’s not what I would choose for her. Not like it matters. Laikyn Grace Minson is nothing more than a doll to be played with. A toy to be used and put on display for the world to see.

“I do have a gift for you,” I tell her, stepping away, and I hear her take in a deep breath now that I’ve put some space between us.

Walking over to the bag, I pull out a rectangular black velvet box. Walking back toward her, I open it up and her eyes drop to it before slowly meeting mine. “Turn around,” I order, ignoring the questioning look in her wide eyes.

Swallowing, she gives me her back. I have to help her with the train of her dress so she doesn’t fall over it. I don’t want her to hurt herself before she takes my name. Reaching up, I grab the pearls and yank, breaking the thin Tiffany necklace. The sound of them bouncing on the old wooden floor makes her inhale sharply.

Removing her gift from the box, I toss the box and reach around her slender neck, pulling the black velvet around it before fastening it at the back. It fits her perfectly, just like I knew it would.

My eyes meet her watery ones in the mirror, and I step into her back, smashing her dress in the process. Lowering my face next to hers, I ask, “What do you say, little darling?”

Her shaking hand comes up, and her fingers run along the thin material.

“It’s one of a kind. Had it made just for you,” I go on at her silence. The outside looks dainty and feminine. It’s black velvet with various sized diamonds. From the outside, it looks like any other choker. It’s the inner leather lining that makes it so unique.

She sniffs and lowers her hand to her side, her eyes falling to the floor.

I lower my lips to her ear and whisper, “You can thank me later.” And with that, I turn and exit the room, going to get ready.

LAIKYN

I can’t breathe; my heart pounds in my chest so hard it’s painful. I feel around for a chair, anything to grab, but I end up falling to my knees in the tight dress. I hear the sound of something ripping, but I no longer care if I ruin it. Not like Luke will, either.

The door opens, and my brother reenters. “Lake.” He runs over to me and kneels. “Lake, are you okay?”

I shake my head, gasping for air. My hands go to the choker Tyson just put on me, and I tug at it. But my hands are shaking too much. They fall, slapping to the silk and gripping it, and I feel my brother’s hands on the back of my neck.

“It won’t come off,” he growls, yanking on it. “Fuck, Lake.” He pulls me back by my neck, choking me. “I don’t know how—”

“Leave us.” My father’s voice interrupts us when he enters the room once again.

“Dad, you can’t be fucking serious,” Miller snaps. “Tyson?”

“I said get the fuck out,” our father commands, pocketing his cell. “I won’t say it again.”

My brother huffs, and then the door shuts with his departure.

My father bends down in front of me and grabs my hands, pulling me up on my shaking legs, also not seeming to care if I ruin my dress by the way he yanks me to my feet. “Daddy, do something.”

His eyes drop to the choker, and he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing before he looks away from me. His eyes fall to the things that Tyson dumped out of the bag he brought. A thick black collar that has a silver ring on the front, a chained leash, and something else that I can’t quite place. The threat he made was real. He will make me crawl on my hands and knees like a dog down the aisle and force me to be his wife.

“It’s done, Laikyn,” my father finally speaks.

“No.” I shake my head, refusing to believe that. “I can’t …”

“The Lords have given him a choice. And he picked you.”

A choice? Why would he want me? I yank my hands from his. “No. I won’t do it.” I storm over to the door, but he grabs my upper arm, pulling me to a stop. His fingers pinch my arm, making me cry out.

“I won’t let you bring our family shame!” he yells at me, making my chest tighten.

“What does our family have to do with it?” I wonder, but he doesn’t respond. “Daddy—”

“The Lords have spoken, and that’s final. You will walk down that aisle with your brother, and you will marry Tyson.”

Why do I have to give myself to Tyson when my own father won’t give me away? “Please”—a single tear runs down my face—“don’t make me do this.” My knees shake, and I shuffle from foot to foot, the heels hurting my feet.

“I will not take the fall for you having too much pride.” He straightens his shoulders.

“Pride?” I gasp. How can he even think it has to do with that?

I stand paralyzed as I watch Tyson place my mother in a chair in the waiting area. She’s sobbing, hands covering her face.

Walking over to me, he reaches out and wipes his knuckles along my cheek, and I realize I’m also crying. “H-How?” I choke out.

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he tilts his head to the side as if I asked how my sister died in a foreign language.

“How?” I grind out.

“Lake—”

“Tell me how she died!” I shout, my fists hitting his bloody chest, making him flinch. “It was you, wasn’t it?”

“I tried to …” He stops himself from telling me the truth.

“You tried to what? Save her?”

“Lake—”

“You killed her!” I shove him, but he pulls my body into his, hugging me tightly. I smell her blood on his clothes, feel it soak into my own shirt, and I start to gag.

“Lake?” He pulls me away from him.

It’s too late. I feel the bile start to rise, and my wide eyes meet his.

He grabs my arm and yanks me over to a trash can. Gripping the back of my neck, he shoves my face into it, and I vomit as he gathers my hair, holding it.

“Yes,” my father snaps, bringing me back. “The last thing you need is to let your pride get in the way.”

“This isn’t about fucking pride.” I fist my hands. “He killed Whitney—”

He slaps me across the face, cutting me off. “Do not mention her name!” he roars.

I cup my throbbing cheek, staring at the floor as fresh tears blur my vision. He’s never hit me before, and I try to hold in a sob, but everything is falling apart so quickly. I just thought today was going to be a horrible day. It’s gone from bad to worse faster than I could have ever imagined.

The door opens. “Lake?”

“I told you to get the fuck out, Miller.” Our father snaps at him, and the door slams shut, once again leaving me alone with him. “Now, where were we?”