My Second Chance Mate is a Barbarian (Sera and Fenris) novel Chapter 487

Taya

Strong fingers closed around my collar, squeezing tight, choking off my air. He yanked me up off the floor with one arm, my legs kicking and scrambling for purchase.

The rough fabric bit into my throat, my jaw jolted sideways with the force of it. I choked and gasped, blood rising to my face. He dragged me close, until his face was inches from mine, until I could feel his hot breath on my skin.

He spat at me. It landed on my cheek, searing and wet. It dripped down my face, the taste bitter in the corner of my mouth. I kept my eyes closed, my face twisted, but his voice cut through the ringing in my ears.

I opened my eyes to glimpse the man's face, inches from my own. The smell of his breath was foreign, but every other detail could've been plucked straight from my memories of a thousand breakfasts. The curve of his upper lip, the frazzle of stubble at the corner of his mouth, the gap between his front teeth.

"You're an idiot," said those familiar lips. "The only reason you're not the Alpha's mate is because you're an idiot."

I felt the pain of it in my gut, in the ache of my jaw, in the stinging of my eyes. My father's mouth twisted into a sneer I'd never seen on his face in life. I wanted to look away, but I couldn't tear my gaze from that impossible, cruel smile.

My throat burned, the collar cutting into my windpipe. I tried to pull away but his grip was iron. "The only reason a Southern dog put you on the floor is because you're an idiot."

"The only reason you'll never be anything next to the Luna is because you're an idiot."

The collar tightened, his fingers digging into my neck. I couldn't breathe, couldn't speak. My head was swimming, black spots dancing at the edges of my vision.

"And idiots don't deserve mercy," he said.

His other hand drew back, fist tightening, the knuckles white. I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for the blow, bracing for the impact.

But the pain didn't come. There was only the rasp of his breathing, the pounding of my own heart in my ears. He drew back further, further, until his fist was trembling by his ear, clenched, ready.

Waiting.

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