Chapter 12 – Markos
The container of soup was a talisman. My fingers gripped the cool glass, grounding me to the future. When tonight’s business was over, I would sit on the shore and sip it. A reward for what I was about to endure.
Half of the Twelve were already gathered at our secluded peninsula.
As I scanned the scene, my eyes landed on Iosif.
Instantly, a surge of anger coursed through me, my shoulders tensed, and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end.
The lad had done exactly what he’d been told. He proposed to my girl.
She’s not my anything.
I twisted my neck, cracking the tight joints. Serena might not be mine, but I would be damned if I let the youngest of us take her. He might be halfway through his twenties, but he preferred to spend his time with video games and TV shows. He wouldn’t know how to please a hellcat like Serena.
A hot wave of anger coursed through my veins as I imagined his hands gripping her shoulders, his mouth finding those full lips—his body claiming hers. My fists clenched involuntarily, and my jaw tightened as if trying to contain the storm of fury building within me.
“Markos, get over here,” Atlas barked.
Setting my soup and change of clothes in a safe place, I stepped into the semi-circle of faces.
A portion of them shared the same blood that surged through my veins.
The others had been ever-present figures in my life.
That, and that alone, entitled them to what they were about to do to me.
Together, we ruled this portion of earth, and tonight, our brand of justice would be served.
I didn’t blame them for what was going to happen.
But that didn’t make it easier to quell the fight in my bones. I wasn’t a creature who took punishment lightly.
“Strip.” The king was not to be disobeyed.
Shucking my shirt, I grumbled, “Where the hell are the others?”
Waiting for the inevitable, chit-chatting with the punishment looming over me, was not my idea of fun.
“We’re here,” Iris’s voice called out.
If Atlas was king, Iris was queen of our twisted kingdom. Her spine was forged with steel, her soul blackened with the heinous deeds she’d done to expand our power.
“You understand why you are here?” Atlas boomed.
“I do.”
And I would do it again. Hell, I was planning to disobey and go after the bratva princess once more before she walked down the aisle.
Why I hadn’t left the other day, why I hadn’t left any of the days between, well...there were excuses I didn’t care to examine too closely.
“When our ancestors came here, there were twelve men from our village who stood up to corruption. They fought and bled to keep our people safe. We carry on their vision, as our fathers did. Twelve of us co-rule this legacy, each with the same authority and voice as the others. When we decide something as a group, we expect the rest to obey,” Atlas said, voice dripping with command.
“Spare us the lecture,” I grumped. “I disobeyed. I accept my punishment.”
“You lack contrition, as usual,” Indigo snorted. “Typical.”
I pinned her with a look. “I knew the consequences when I acted.”
“And still you chose to do whatever the hell you wanted,” Iris said. If I didn’t know any better, that sounded like admiration in her voice.
She was right. I always did what I wanted. While they were the Twelve, I was the lone wolf in our pack.
They didn’t want to force their way into the East Coast markets. They were content to find a way to negotiate. I was the only one brave enough to force the kings of the East to accept our presence—and solve my own problem in the same swift stroke.
So what if my first attempt failed? I wasn’t done fighting for the future I wanted.
Ajax shifted, nudging Zephyr. “Get him good.”
“Twelve times twelve,” Atlas decreed. Since I couldn’t deliver my share of the punishment, Atlas would dole out the double portion. “As per our rules.”
“As per our rules.” I knelt, fisting my hands at my side. Sailors often were given three hundred strokes in the olden days. A hundred and forty-four was nothing.
The cat o' nine tails whistled through the air.
My back shivered under the impact. One lash.
I counted silently, teeth clenched against the burning sensation spreading across my back.
Age-old scars quivered under the force, and my skin screamed in protest. But nothing done to my body could compare to the pain those scars inflicted on the inside.
I was broken, a lost boy, and now, a monster in living, mottled flesh.
Zephyr had always been efficient with the whip.
No hesitation, no mercy—just the cold precision our enforcer was known for.
Two, three, four. The strikes came rhythmically, each one beating into flesh already mapped with scars from horrors meant to end me.
Not that those had been inflicted by my peers.
No...my history was darker. It robbed me of hearth and home, stole my family, and sent me to sail aimlessly into a bleak and hopeless future.
“You should have stayed away from her,” Iosif muttered, just loud enough for me to hear. “Your plans weren’t worth this.”
So young. He was my cheerleader until the price for my transgressions needed to be paid. Now he questioned his resolve. And if I hadn’t acted....
Then I wouldn’t have accidentally delivered Serena to you, puppy.
I refused to give him the satisfaction of a response. Five, six. The pain blossomed, hot and familiar. I’d been here before—body pushed to the edge by pain. I survived that. I came back stronger, tearing down the enemies.
The eleven faces around me weren’t my foes. I wasn’t sure if that made this punishment harder or easier to bear. Either way, when this was done, I would be stronger for it.
By the time Zephyr finished, sweat dripped from my brow, mingling with the blood running down my spine. I fixed my gaze on the spot where my soup rested. The rest would take their turn.
The key was to detach my mind from the present. Fortunately, that was something I was quite good at. Time lost all meaning. The whistle and crack faded into the distance. My body refused to surrender, my mind shut out any physical protest.
Twelve lashes each—and twenty-four from the king. My back was a canvas of agony, but I remained kneeling, unmoved. The air around me smelled of iron and salt—my blood, my sweat.
“Stand,” Atlas commanded when the final lash had been delivered.
I rose slowly, muscles screaming in protest. My vision blurred momentarily, but I blinked it away. Weakness wasn’t tolerated among the Twelve. I locked my knees and refused to teeter.
“It is done,” Iris declared, her voice carrying across the peninsula. “The consequence is paid.”
Iosif’s eyes met mine, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. I wanted to rip his throat out with my bare hands.
“Not quite,” I said, my voice rough but steady. “There’s the matter of the bride price.”
A hush fell over the group. Even Atlas looked surprised.
“The bride price?” Indigo demanded.
I nodded but stopped quickly as the ground tilted.
Holding out my hand, I took the leather strap from Korinna, who’d had it last. She handed it over, confusion written on her face.
The braided cords ran through my fingers, leaving a trail of blood.
We didn’t use a cat o’ nine with beads, which would have been twice as devastating.
But the scars on my back were fragile, splitting open easily.
“Serena is under my protection. If someone—” I pointed at Iosif “—wants to take her, they’ll have to come through me.”
Protests rumbled through the group. It was as if a thunderstorm had erupted among them, each individual voice adding to the tumultuous roar that echoed across the peninsula.
“Atlas doesn’t have the right to decree her fate,” I stated, daring them to disagree.
“She has to be silenced,” Iris menaced.
I tipped the whip in her direction. “Be that as it may, we aren’t selling her off. If one of you wants to take that responsibility away from me, be my guest.”
“You’re insane, Black Tide,” Korinna muttered.
A grin spread across my face. “What’s new?”
“Enough,” Atlas barked, forcing order with the tone of his voice. “Are you offering to marry her, Markos?”
The idea of Serena at my mercy was tempting. Her smart mouth mine to plunder. That beautiful little body mine to claim. “I’m saying that she’ll remain under my protection and be my responsibility until we can fairly decide who she ends up with. You want her, come and get her.”
No one moved.
“I thought as much.” Staggering forward, I tested my legs. They worked—barely. Instead of hurrying to my reward, I forced myself to move backward toward the sea. Once the waves licked my calves, I dropped into the briny embrace.
The lacerations on my back cried in protest.
Salt and sea stung every open wound, but I welcomed the cleansing burn. This was an old ritual—one I cherished. The ocean took the blood, and in return, gave me clarity.
I stayed submerged until my lungs screamed, then surfaced with a gasp. The night air felt cool against my face as I looked back toward shore. They were dispersing now, their dark silhouettes moving away from the peninsula like shadows retreating from dawn. Only one remained, watching me.
Iris.
She stood with her arms crossed, the moonlight catching on the silver bands encircling her wrists. Power incarnate. Even from this distance, I could feel the weight of her scrutiny.
I swam back slowly, letting the gentle current do most of the work. My back was a roadmap of fire, but the cold had numbed the worst of it. By morning, I would be stiff, but functioning. By evening, I’d be able to move without wincing.
As I emerged from the water, Iris tossed me a towel from her tote bag. “You’re a fool, Markos.”
“So I’ve been told.” I pressed the fabric against my chest, not daring to touch my back.
“You think you can protect your little guest? You know nothing about her.” Iris’s voice was soft but carried the weight of prophecy. “There are bound to be people looking after they realized she disappeared. We are at risk from her presence.”
If the harpy had her way, she would have slit Serena’s throat and disposed of the body along with the mercenaries who took her.
Our vicious queen.
I reached for my shirt, wincing as I pulled it over my head. The fabric immediately clung to my wet back, and no doubt blood seeped through. “I’ve handled worse.”
“Not alone.”
I snorted. “I’m never truly alone, am I? Not with eleven shadows constantly watching my every move.”
Iris stepped closer, her perfume as scathing to the senses as her voice. “If this hurts our people, you’ll have me to answer to, Black Tide.”
“I know, Sea Witch.” I brushed past her, finally ready to indulge in the savory reward for what I endured tonight.
With a string of curses, Iris left. It was hard to be mad at her.
At the end of the day, we all protected our people.
But when Serena became one of us, I wasn’t quite sure.
I contemplated that turn of events as the first flavors of the tepid soup filled my mouth.
It was an interesting development, but one that I felt in my bones was right.
Serena belonged here—she belonged right where she was.
Where did that leave me?
I tipped the container back, letting the broth flow past my lips.
I’d been making plans to expand the smuggling operations to other markets.
Marrying into an East Coast bratva family guaranteed me access—once Danica’s family accepted the situation.
They would no doubt see my bold moves as heroic and be eager to do business.
I’d never been uneasy on that part of the plan.
But now I claimed protection over another woman. That complicated matters.
“The wind’s against me,” I muttered, scooping chunks of meat and vegetables from the container with my fingers. “And she’s blowing hard. Maybe it’s time to steer a different course.”
Serena felt like a different destiny.
One worth fighting for.
But I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around that. That was what came of chasing a dream for so long, any change was too hard to accept without resistance. I wasn’t ready to give up and chase after something else, no matter how drawn to her I was.