Your Fault

APOLLO’s P.O.V.

"Stop hurting my wife!" I snarled.

As they witnessed Beatrix being torn apart, left only in her underwear, they began to whip her.

God...

"Hit me instead," I said.

Dad looked at me, unsure if I was truly confident in my request.

I repeated, "Hit me instead of her. I will be her shield."

Dad approached me, walking closer. "You're skinny. Will you be able to endure my lashes?" he asked.

With unwavering confidence, I stared directly into his eyes.

"Yes, I can. Just don't harm my wife," I asserted.

Dad chuckled, a mocking laugh escaping him.

"Stop pretending already. I've caught you, alright?"

I simply nodded, urging him to stop spewing nonsense and start striking me. I tightly embraced Beatrix.

"No... I can handle—" she attempted to protest.

"Shhh," I interrupted, gently running my fingers over her lips. "I'll protect you."

"Oh, no, no, no!" Dad exclaimed. "You must remove your clothes as well, Apollo. How can I fully enjoy seeing you in pain?"

Without uttering a word, I