“Why are you doing this?” Damien asks just loud enough for her to hear it, as his entire body remains rigid.

She darts her gaze over to meet his. “Because I can take it. And it’s fun to see her still pretending to play nice, even as she readies my next beating.”

I want to glue her mouth shut, because she doesn’t know her limits, and Idun is itching to show her.

“Ma, look away. I love you,” Violet adds, groaning a little, as she pushes up from the floor, the pillory giving way and collapsing to shambles around her.

Marta’s eyes shut as another tear falls, but they won’t stay shut for long.

Idun drops the flogger and very calmly selects a longer, more twisted set of metal braids, not even glancing our way this time.

Violet starts to turn, and the braids slam into the side of her face, spraying blood all over the western side. I bite down on my fist to keep from shouting.

“That’s my girl,” Anna says from beside me.

Violet just spits out the blood and looks back, letting Idun take another face shot that slings her head in the other direction.

We all move uncomfortably, forced to sit and watch. All because we thought she was coming to fucking fight Idun.

The next several blows send Violet sailing, her skin shredding, as threads whir through the air. It takes a few minutes to realize it’s her own clothing she’s stealing from, as the wounds start stitching themselves up.

A few breaths of collective surprise hit the air, but Idun looks like she expected as much. Violet bloody grins like a deranged lunatic, as Anna shouts the count once more.

“Someone salt that fucking ghost!” Idun snaps, pupils smaller, as she glares in our direction.

No one moves, and she narrows her eyes at us.

“I’m January Violet Carmine—”

“I said we could skip that little formality,” Idun cuts in, moving toward Violet.

“It’s the law, and why are we doing this if not to follow the fucking law?” Violet interrupts.

Idun clicks her tongue. “I forgot how stupid you all are,” she tells Violet.

Violet just gives her a tight smile. “I’m January Violet Carmine. I’m half Neopry. Half Portocale. I’m all gypsy with all my gypsy pride. And I’m the only person in the room who can say that last part. I’m here to remind you of just how far you’ve all fallen.”

Violet’s slammed into the iron cage with the next hit Idun delivers, and we watch as she takes each one, never crying out in pain. Frozen in our places, all we do is look on.

It’s the first time I notice us standing still, and it’s the most agonizing thing I’ve ever endured. I’d suffer a thousand Portocale curses to avoid ever facing this motherfucking nightmare ever again.

“That’s ten,” Anna says as Violet takes a little longer to get up, the wounds sealing with the next bout of thread.

“I’m January Violet Carmine, and I’m here to ensure that no alphas are gaming the system for petty, pathetic, or vindictive reasoning, as they wield life and death in their hands, while forgetting how to care about the infections who have to die,” she says as she spits out another wad of blood. “And I can keep the peace, because I can take whatever you’ve got, Idun.”

Idun drops the metal flogger.

“Remember that I tried,” Idun says again as she walks over and grabs the Van Helsing flogger meant only for alphas.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Damien warns her.

I’m confined by my curse, unable to break the law, even on behalf of the woman I love.

“Vance would stop me if I wasn’t within my legal right,” Idun tells him, as she gives me a pitying look. “You’re bleeding, dear. Quit trying to reach me when I’m not doing anything wrong. It only gives you agonizing migraines in the end. You never could understand.”

My eyes drop to Violet, just as Idun swings the Van Helsing braids gifted for floggings. It shoots out the silver, unbearably painful strikes that would cut most immortals into actual pieces.

Violet flies across the cage, slamming into the bars there and tumbling down, as Idun leaps the distance and hits her again so hard the concrete cracks and spills over from the impact, after the flogger glances off Violet.

Violet grunts and curls in on herself, as Idun hits her again, and again, standing over her as she maxes out the mark where Violet legally gets a rest.

“That’s ten!” Anna shouts as Idun just barely stops the flogger in time.

Idun’s breathing heavily, as Violet slowly gets to her feet, more of her jeans disappearing as her wounds are quickly threaded shut.

“I’m January Violet Carmine,” Violet says with a wince, as she carelessly shoves her shoulder back into its socket with a loud crunch. “For fun, I try new potions that occasionally blow off a limb or two. Once I burnt myself up. Took a couple of days to heal. I heal faster than average, because I was designed as a cosmic fuck-you to—”

Idun hits her before she can finish. “There’s a time limit,” she tells Violet, as Violet crashes to the ground. “Time’s up.”

She slams the flogger down into her skull, her eyes crazed, as the inner monster shows. The monster she claimed was all the devil’s work from the stone.

Zuela’s grip tightens on the railing, because like me, he knows what a waling of that magnitude feels like. Violet’s face quite literally gets beaten into the concrete.