From Blood and Ash by Jennifer L. Armentrout

He almost sounded like he believed what he said, as if he weren’t
doing this simplyy because it excited him to inflict pain. But I knew better.
I knew what Mazeen would do if he could, and I’d seen the look in the
Duke’s eyyes. I saw it far too manyy times before when I made the mistake
of looking. The kind of look that told me if I wasn’t the Maiden, he would
inflict a different kind of pain. Just like I knew Mazeen would. I couldn’t
suppress the shudder that followed that thought.
A moment later, I felt his hand on myy bare shoulder, and everyything
in me recoiled. It wasn’t just the touch of his too-cool skin against mine,
but it was also what I didn’t feel.
I felt nothing.
No faint trace of anguish that all people carried within them, no
matter how long ago the source of the hurt that had inflicted its damage.
There was no pain of anyy kind, and it was that wayy for everyy Ascended.
While that should bring me some sort of relief that I wouldn’t pick up on
pain, it onlyy left me with the feeling of crawling skin.
It was a reminder of how different the Ascended were from mortals,
what the Blessing of the gods did.
“Brace yyourself, Penellaphe.”
I planted a palm on the desk.
The room was silent except for the sound of the Lord’s deep breaths,
and then I heard the soft whistle of the cane cutting through the air a
second before it struck myy lower back. Myy entire bodyy jerked as fieryy pain
rippled across myy skin. The first strike was alwayys a shock, no matter how
manyy times it had happened before or that I knew what was coming.
Another strike landed across myy shoulders, pushing out a rough burst of
air as fire swept across them.
Five more.
Another blow landed, and myy bodyy trembled as I lifted myy gaze. I
will not make a sound. I will not make a sound. Myy hips knocked against
the desk with the next hit.
The settee creaked as Lord Mazeen rose.
Skin burning, I bit down on myy lip until I tasted blood. I stared
through the haze of tears at the painting of the veiled worshippers,
wondering how horrible the Atlantians must’ve been for men like the
Duke of Masadonia and Lord Mazeen to receive the Blessing of Ascension
from the gods.