Lydia's Point Of Me
The words "I won't do it" still hung in the air, defiant and sharp, when the world suddenly exploded into motion.
Crack.
The sound rang sickeningly crisp, echoing off the high, vaulted ceilings of the Moore drawing room. My head whipped to the side with such force I felt my neck vertebrae protest. For a heartbeat, everything went white… just a blinding, pulsing static in my vision.
My cheek didn't just hurt; it throbbed with a rhythmic, searing heat, as if molten lead were being poured beneath my skin. The metallic taste of blood bloomed on my tongue where I'd bitten the inside of my mouth. I'd never been struck before. Not once. The shock of it was almost worse than the pain.
I stumbled back, my heels skidding on the polished hardwood, but Lucinda was there. Her trembling arms looped around my waist to steady me, her breath coming in short, ragged hitches against my shoulder. I could feel her whole body shaking… whether from fear or shock, I couldn't tell.
