Chapter 34 – Markos
Stretching my muscles, I paced across the kitchen. It’d been four hours since I woke to the high tide lapping around our waists and brought Serena upstairs. Refueling my body, working out, and then two hours on the laptop consumed the time before dawn.
And then my phone pinged.
Atlas: Interrogate her.
My response had been to fuck off. Which prompted an irate answer.
Atlas: Do it. Get me answers. Or I’ll do it myself.
Now a choice lay before me.
One option, my favorite, was to fight him. Just because he had a natural leadership over the rest of us didn’t mean he could demand my obedience. But my agency would only go so far if the others sided with him. Did I fight the Twelve? Over a woman—who we knew little about?
The secrets of her past only bothered me because she hadn’t shared them. In time, she would trust me enough to give me the answers. But that wasn’t good enough for the others.
I paused by her room and peered inside. She’d rolled over, curled into the blankets.
“Yes, I will go to war for you, prinkípissa,” I whispered.
It would be better, however, to make her open up. The sooner we laid the secrets to rest, the sooner the two of us could move forward.
And I wanted that. More than I wanted to conquer a slice of the underworld.
Taking some spare fishing poles from the closet behind the front door, I wrote a note for Serena that I would be back by noon to take her out on the boat.
But as I slid it onto the counter, soft footfalls behind me sounded.
I let her make the first move, holding my breath. Last night’s revelation hung in the air. Did she remember the past that she confided in me?
“Good morning,” Serena murmured, slipping beside me. “Care to explain why I’m covered in sand?”
I snorted. “We fell asleep on the beach.”
Serena stretched. The long muscles of her frame arched, and I looked away, feeling bad for enjoying the sight.
“I’m not stiff at all.” She laughed softly. “Slept better there than in a bed.”
“I’ve slept many nights on the sand,” I agreed.
Serena plucked the note, scanned it, and then gave me a nod. “Fishing-fishing? Or mob fishing?”
Betrayal slid thickly down my throat, sticking like black tar to my insides. “Just fishing, prinkípissa.”
“Let me get rehydrated, and I’ll be good to go.” She moved to the fridge and began to pluck out items.
“Good. I’ll see you at noon.” Grabbing my keys, I went to the door.
“Markos?”
I looked back to her. “Hmm?”
“Thank you—for last night.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I needed that.”
“Anytime.”
She nodded. “It feels good to have a friend I can confide in. Never had that before.”
Surprise flicked through my mind. “No friends?”
She shook her head. “The two girls I am closest to aren’t ones I’ve opened up to about my problems. Probably should have instead of keeping things bottled up.”
“I’m honored.” I meant it. “So...friends?”
“Friends—with my husband.” That laugh was real, sweet, and pure to my ears.
I left, feeling lighter than I had in days.
***
The halls of Olympus were otherwise silent, not even the staff moving about below made a whisper.
Glittering sunlight fell through the high windows, making the dust motes seem like flecks of gold.
My rough breathing seemed out of place here, my shadow a pollution as it swept across the polished floors.
I raised my hand, and my fist fell against the wood with a sharp note, further desecrating the peace and tranquility of this hallowed ground.
There was a rustling, and then the door creaked open. I inserted my foot the moment there was space to prevent it closing, because there was no way my presence would be welcomed here.
Iris stumbled back, trying to slam the door. “Go away, Markos.”
“Glad to see you’re still breathing,” I menaced.
Iris pulled a gun from the waistband of her yoga pants. “I won’t hesitate.”
“I should hope not.” I held up the bag of greasy burritos. The scent of eggs, bacon, and chorizo wafted around us. “But I’m not here to fight.”
The harpy lowered the barrel but didn’t put the weapon away.
Her room was cream and gold, spacious and regal.
Long windows framed picturesque views of the gardens.
Daylight poured over the soft carpet as if it could cleanse the evil energy the inhabitant evoked.
The space was completely at odds with the maneater’s appetite for blood and war.
“Before I bury the hatchet, tell me, what was your plan, Iris?” I stepped over the threshold, bag extended.
Iris snatched it like a ravenous fiend. “I wasn’t going to hurt her.”
I wish I believed you. “I’m listening.”
“I wasn’t,” she insisted, sensing my hesitation. “That was why I planned to drug her. So she wouldn’t fight back, wouldn’t get hurt.”
Anger bloomed inside me.
Iris looked me up and down before shaking her head. “She’s nice enough. Killing her was never an option. I just needed to make her disappear.”
And that confession saved the harpy’s life.
Iris retreated to a semi-circle nook where two armchairs were separated by a short table. She opened the contents of the bag, tearing into the packet of hot sauce with her teeth. Her left hand still gripped the pistol.
“I wanted you to think she left town—I was going to force her to leave. Return her to wherever the hell she came crawling out of,” Iris garbled as she bit into a burrito.
It was impossible not to feel a trickle of pity for the woman. That could easily be Serena with a split lip, blackening eye, and uncontrollable tremors in her strong, muscular frame.
“Yesterday, I wanted to kill you,” I confessed, voice cold and lacking emotion. “Slowly—drawing out each moment of torment.”
Iris sank her teeth into another bite as she looked across her sun-filled room at me. There it was. A haunted cloud in her eyes.
“But then our enemy’s hired dogs found you first,” I sighed. “They robbed me of revenge.”
Iris swallowed the bite. “So this isn’t my last supper?”
“That, my dear fury, is up to you.”
Iris threw back her head and cackled. The laughter lacked mirth, filled with a terrible ominous threat. “Message received. Stay away from your wife.”
I flashed her a humorless smile. “Exactly.”
Iris set down the burrito and glided to the ensuite. The sound of the faucet filled the air, and then she stepped back out, holding up her wet hands.
“I don’t believe for a second Fate will be kind to you in this matter, Black Tide.” Droplets rolled off her palms, falling like a soft rain on the carpet. “You’re asking for trouble with that woman... but I’m done with her. With you.”
I turned on my heel; my work here was done.
“Markos,” Iris called. “Thank you for the food.”
I grunted. “And you’re wrong about Serena. She belongs in our world.”
That much I knew in my bones.
“Then don’t let her escape,” Iris murmured as I slipped away.
I have no intention to do that, Harpy. One good thing from this mess, those razor talons that would shred man or beast caught in her snare, were sheathed. Now I just had to convince the others. One by one, the Twelve would believe me. They would accept Serena as my queen.
Or I would bury them under the waves.
***
“And she said her grandson and wife were coming with their kids. They haven’t seen them in a year because they moved to Jacksonville.
She was so excited, Markos.” Serena bit the cookie.
“They have a new baby boy—four generations! I said I would go over and take family pictures so long as I could hold the baby.”
An idea, one so foreign and yet so intrinsic to human nature, bloomed in my mind.
Fuck me, I would go with her, if only to see my goddess holding a little child.
Maybe that would be in the cards for us one day.
But the Fates hadn’t seen to it yet—and we hadn’t been careful, not once using protection.
Maybe someday she’ll want our children.
Theos! I couldn’t get that thought out of my head. I took a second cookie from the container and walked to the anchor. “They’ll enjoy these then.”
Serena nodded eagerly. “Having neighbors and baking for them is really a novel concept. You don’t mind, do you?”
I shook my head and cranked the lever. The chain rattled and clanked as it unraveled as the anchor sank into the deep waters. “It’s what they do in the village. I’m glad you’ve found someone to talk to at the condo.”
Serena stopped beside me, arm crossed over her chest to clasp the opposite elbow as she held the half cookie, too busy watching me to eat it. “This might be the last time they come south. Her husband’s health isn’t the greatest.”
“Well, there will be new neighbors for you to win over,” I said and then plucked the cookie from her fingers.
Serena yelped, scrambling to take it back.
But I popped it into my mouth, chewed it in two bites, and gave her a wicked grin. “Have to be quicker than that, prinkípissa.”
Scowling, Serena pounded her fist against my chest. I caught her, a sudden rush of heat flaring from the contact. This was bliss. A gorgeous day on the water, a beautiful woman at my side—mine. Serena was mine.
She stilled, holding my gaze.
Bending down, I hovered near her. “I want to kiss you.”
She didn’t miss a beat. “I want you to kiss me.”
Her permission ringing in my ears, I claimed her mouth. She tasted of chocolate, sweet and decadent, with a hint of something darker underneath. What started as a gentle kiss turned into a frenzied collision, driven by hunger and need.
Breaking apart, I cupped her face in my hand. “Do you trust me?”
“Not as far as I can throw you.” Serena smirked. “But if you mean sex, then yes. I do.”
She would learn in time to trust me in those other aspects.
I backed her up to a pile of nets and other supplies. Taking one, I continued to kiss her, to fuck her mouth with my tongue, as we moved to the stern where a lower deck hovered right over the water. Dropping the net, I tugged her to me.
“Take off your dress,” I said against her throat.
She moved her neck and looked. “Is that net clean?”
My little princess....
“Take off your dress,” I repeated, slow and hard.
This time, she obeyed without hesitation. The sunlight shimmered against her tanned skin. I ran my fingers along her front, snapping the straps of her swimsuit, enjoying how it formed against her body with strategic pieces cut away to tease glimpses of her flesh.
“Your turn.” She pulled on my shirt. “Off.”
She’d never seen me, not in the light of day.
Gathering my mental shields, I braced myself and shucked the shirt. Her gaze roved over my mottled torso.
“Your tattoos are impressive,” she breathed, tracing the designs with the tip of her finger. I shivered. There was no disgust, no pity as she explored my scarred body. “I don’t have any ink. You make me want to get one.”
Serena leaned forward and pressed her lips against my chest. As she kissed me, running her tongue over the compass with the needle pointing toward the word that replaced the typical N for north, she pushed the linen pants off my hips.
“And here I expected to find your Speedo,” she teased, finding me naked.
“I’m not swimming in public, prinkípissa. Why would I cover up?”
Her throaty murmur was erotic. I responded with a growl and lifted her. Those strong legs wrapped around my hips. My plan to take her gently alongside the water faded as a primal need overshadowed everything.
Turning my back to the waves, I fell.
Serena yipped, but I cut off the sound with my mouth. The ocean washed over us. With a few strong kicks, I took us back to the surface, where I angled us to the side of the boat.
“Hold here,” I instructed, guiding her hand to a handle.
She pressed her fingers against my shoulder with her other hand. I mirrored her, clasping the boat. But my other hand slid between our bodies. I pressed a finger against her pussy. Serena moaned, dropping her head back.
“Look at me,” I growled, sliding the material aside.
Those deep brown eyes focused, her breathing turning hard and desperate.
Fuck...and I wasn’t even inside her yet.
“Before we go any further, I need the truth from you,” I rasped and stroked her clit.
“What do you want to know?” she panted.
A myriad of questions tumbled through my head. Which to ask her? What would clear her without dispute?
“Your name,” I demanded. “What is your name?”
Serena leaned forward, brushing her lips against my ear. “Serena Maria...Demetriou.”
The beast inside roared in triumph. Every other thought was banished. I thrust into her, the sweet tightness wrapping around my dick like she was made for me. Using the rocking of the waves, I began to fuck her hard against the boat.
Her name—her true name—echoed through my mind with each thrust. Demetriou. My wife. My real wife. Not a plot, not a scheme, but truth.
“Say it again,” I commanded, pinning her against the boat, the water lapping at our joined bodies.
“Serena Maria Demetriou,” she gasped, clinging to me as I drove into her. “I’m yours, Markos.”
The confession sent fire through my veins. I claimed her mouth again, swallowing her moans as she tightened around me. The water buoyed us, making each thrust deeper, more intense. Her nails dug into my shoulders, leaving crescent marks I’d wear proudly.
“Mine,” I growled against her throat.
Her head fell back, exposing the elegant column of her neck. I marked her there, where everyone would see. Her body tensed around me. A sweet agony.
“I want this life, Markos. The wildness, the storm. All of it.”
Driving into her, I claimed her promise.
She would stay with me, the monster who’d stolen her.
I was never letting her go. I captured her mouth again, swallowing her cries as I felt her begin to clench me tight.
The pleasure was building, threatening to consume us both.
Her legs squeezed my waist, pulling me impossibly closer.
“Let go for me,” I commanded against her lips. “Let me feel you come.”
“Yes! Oh, yes,” she whimpered.
Moving away from her siren’s kiss, I watched her. I needed to see this.
This divine moment.
Her eyes locked with mine, pupils blown wide with desire. That connection, that moment of pure vulnerability between us, pushed me to the edge. When she shattered, her body pulsing around me, I followed with a roar of possession.
Mine—all mine.