TRIGGER WARNING: violence, abusive behavior, water torture
He was taking this too far—he was going to end up killing her if she didn’t find a way to convince him. Her eyes watered with frustration, a half-sob escaping her. “Don’t—”
“Take a deep breath, Elana,” he said coolly.
“Antoine, please, you don’t have to—” she was cut off, water running up her nose and down the back of her throat as she gasped, her head thrust into the trough. She hadn’t taken in enough air to hold, but she tried. She pushed and shoved against the trough. Kicked and scrambled to leverage her weight and pull herself out.
Everything was burning. She couldn’t inhale. She couldn’t gasp for air. It wasn’t an option. She couldn’t, she told herself, willing her body to cooperate. Antoine had an iron grip on her, using the line of leverage from his wrist to his forearm pressed against the back of her neck to keep her down.
She thrashed under him. She cried out, cursing herself when it made her lungs burn more. Her efforts were effective only in making herself hypoxic. She was going to die. He was going to kill her, in front of their parents, and they were going to let him. Tears stung her eyes, even underwater.
She could feel the pressure building in her head, in her chest, in her throat— she wasn’t going to be able to suppress the urge to gasp for breath, but she needed to, she had to—
Antoine pulled her head up.
She broke, gasping for air, spitting and coughing up water. Snot and tears ran down her nose, her throat and lungs still burning, her chest heaving as she struggled to regain her breath.
“I told you to take a deep breath,” Antoine said, as calm as ever.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Elana was choking on the words, lunging for him before she could collect herself. “You sick, sadistic bastard—” she swore, breath ragged, going straight for his throat. She needed to make him pay.
He was stronger than her by far, effortlessly keeping her at an arm’s length as she reached and clawed for him. He looked down at her impassively, unflinching as she dug her nails into his forearms, swearing at him with a vengeance as snot and tears ran down her face.
“Not even a whisper of mana, even now,” he muttered, searching her face for something. He didn’t seem to find it, because he shook his head. “Let’s go again. Deep breath.”
“You m—” She was face down before the end of the sentence, bubbles streaming from her mouth instead of the string of obscenities.
"I can do this all day, Elana." Even underwater, she could hear her brother's impassive voice, clear as day. "If you want this to end, you'd better hurry up and grasp the lesson."
Lesson? His voice was starting to sound more and more distant. Her thoughts were getting muddy, her muscles progressively less responsive. She wracked her mind, even as darkness began closing in at the edges. What was he after...?
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