#hannalight

She was so tired, so fucking tired. Her head ached from the dehydration and it felt like everything around her was spinning. ‘Why can’t he just leave me alone!’ She forced her eyes open and looked up at him with an exhausted glare.  

Conner smirked. He loved her defiance. He simply ate it up. “Come on my love. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He took a step forward and pulled against the latches of her restraints, freeing Hanna's hands and sending her collapsing into his chest. She cried out when he touched her wounds and again as he handed her over to the guards. Though there were multiple guards at the ready, it only took one to carry her bridal style back to her room. The entire time her head tucked against the chest of the guard and her hands rested motionless in her lap.

Back in her room, the guard set her face down on the mattress and left at Conners command. Hanna sank into the soft cloud, exhausted and in so much pain. She spent the past two days in the dark and a prisoner to her thoughts. Everytime she closed her eyes, she dreamt of her people, and saw their faces with absolute clarity. Hanna tried not to imagine the horrors they were being subjected to because of her failure.

“I know you want to go to sleep,” Conner said. “But we need to clean your wounds to keep them from getting infected."

Hanna didn’t have the energy to protest. She listened to him as he moved around the bed behind her. Light footfalls padded across the carpet followed by the sloshing of liquid. A wet cloth was pressed to the cut above her ankle, causing her to cry into the mattress and jerk forward. Hands grabbed at her calf, pinned her leg to the bed to keep it steady, before digging the cloth deeper into her wound. Hanna sucked a breath and clenched the pillows in tight fists as her body went rigid and tears budded in the corners of her eyes. With every wipe, she released another agonized muffled scream into the bed .

The bed shifted as someone sat down next to Hanna.

"It's okay, you’re okay," cooed Conner. He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and petted the top of Hanna’s head gently. Conner’s presence next to Hanna meant there was another body in the room who was tending to her wounds, probably just another one of Conner’s servants.

“You hanging in there, Hanna Banana?”

The person at the end of the bed moved to another laceration, this one located on the back of her thigh. The freshly soaked soaked cloth was pressed against the wound and Hanna pushed another pained cry into the mattress.

Conner laced his fingers through her hair and as he pulled her head up, the aide in the room dragged the cloth across her wound. Hanna cried out in torment, squeezing her eyes closed and biting down on her lip until she broke skin and drew blood. Tears streamed down her face and made grey wet spots on the white sheets.

“I asked you a question Hanna,” breathed Conner. “Answer my question.”

Hanna trembled with pain and rage, and she glared at Conner through the slits of her eyes. Her nostrils flared and her green eyes blazed with an unbridled fury. She knew what he was doing. He was testing her, seeing if she would respond with a quick plucky retort, or with a direct answer.

She didn't say anything. After begging last time, Hanna decided she was going to take every punishment he dealt -- and she wasn’t going to beg him to stop. If he was looking for a fun toy to break, he was going to be seriously disappointed because she wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction ever again. He already took her family from her, she wasn’t going to give him her dignity as well.

Hanna clenched her teeth together and shot him an antagonistic smirk. Conner’s gaze hardened and his face turned sour. He turned and grabbed the bottle of alcohol from the other body in the room and slowly began drizzling the contents of the bottle across her back, making sure to hold the bottle up as high as possible to make the contact hurt as much as possible.

Hanna screamed and when she ran out of air, she gasped for more and screamed again. Her body convulsed and her legs moved like she was trying to get up and get away from him, but her body was in too much pain to function and it failed her completely. Despite her screaming and howling, Conner kept going. He dripped and drizzled the contents across her shoulders, her arms, over the small of her back and down her legs; raising and lowering the bottle to change the intensity of the splashes. The alcohol pooled in the crevice of her spine and other lacerations, and when she twisted away the liquid spilled into other cuts and scrapes, resulting in even more pain and more harrowing moans. She pulled a pillow to her face and bit into it like it was a wooden stick, using it to silence her awful screams.

The last drop hit Hanna’s back and Conner rounded the bed. He grabbed a fistful of her long curly hair and pulled her head straight back so that he lifted her chest off the bed . "Look at me Hanna!" Conner barked. Hanna didn't, she kept her eyes closed and bit down on her bottom lip. He pulled her head back further and gave it a shake, which caused Hanna to grimace and looked at him through slitted eyes.

He was glaring at her with cold piercing eyes that actually startled her. "You answer me when I talk to you. Got it?"  

Hanna suppressed a snarl.

"Got it?" he repeated venomously.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Complying sat wrong in her stomach but she forced herself to do it anyway. “Yes.”

His eyes focused on her. "Are you sure?

With pursed lips and a jutted chin, she nodded.

He threw her into the mattress forcefully before exiting the room and slamming the door behind him. Hanna screamed her frustration into the mattress until she was trembling and choking on tears of anger. She was furious. Despite being the powerless one, Conner was always the one holding the power. Since her arrival, her captor had been humiliating, beating, and assaulting her and she was so fucking sick of it. She wanted it all to end, but she knew that would only happen if she submitted to Conner and did what he wanted.

A dry cloth touched her skin ever so gently and for some strange reason, the gentleness displayed caused her to cry harder. She buried her head in the pillows, ashamed and wanting to hide. The dry cloth blotted her skin gently, soaking up the alcohol and slowly drying her body. He cleaned, dried, and bandaged the rest of Hanna’s wounds while she kept her head buried in the pillows.

It wasn’t until he finished that he realized she had fallen asleep. He stepped back from the bed, pushed his sleeves up with his forearms instead of his bloodied hands, and took in his work. She was a mess, probably the worst he had ever seen her since knowing her, but at least now she was clean and bandaged.

When he had first laid eyes on his leader, she was a mess of torn flesh, red lacerations, bruises, and dirt. She was too delirious and weak to fight and sight sickened him. Despite his explicit orders from Conner to stand still and remain silent, it took everything in him not to fall to her side.

Her screams had been agonizing to listen to and each one was a slap to his face, reminding him yet again of his betrayal to the Omegas -- to her.

He was truly sorry for that and he knew she would never forgive him.