Page 34 of Onyx Realm

“Oh,” I breathed. My gaze shifted to the window, looking at the flowers planted in the box beyond.

“What are you thinking?” he asked softly.

A long sigh escaped my lips. “That it took becoming a prisoner for me to be bold enough to take what I want.”

His voice dropped to a deadly baritone. “And what do you want, prinkípissa?”

Smiling, I flicked a glance in his direction. “Everything.”

A heartbeat passed, and then heat flickered between us. I inhaled slowly, inching toward him. Dammit, I wanted his mouth again. The desire I felt flashed in his eyes.

The back door flew open with a bang.

“Oh, so you are alive, fuck face!” Iosif barked. “Glad you know how to use a cell.”

“Get out.”

At Markos’s icy tone, the younger man stilled. I looked back at my captor only to do the same. There was a gun in his hand, and it was pointed at Iosif.

“Markos!” I cried out, snapping my finger in the air. “Don’t you dare! He’s your cousin.”

That volatile blue gaze slid to me.

“Look, I wouldn’t be interrupting whatever the fuck this is, but we have a situation with Iakovos’s ship. We’ve been summoned to the docks. They didn’t give us more details than those,” Iosif growled. “And no one can reach you. So I said I would pick you up on the way.”

“Put the gun away,” I murmured, reaching out but pausing to hover my hands over his.

Markos dropped his gaze. “You can touch me, you know.”

There it was. That raw vulnerability.

“I’m not in the habit of touching mad dogs with fangs,” I said with a small smile.

If the joke got through to him, it was impossible to tell. Markos rose and left quickly. I dropped my head to the table, wondering what on earth I was doing.

And why I liked it so much.

Chapter 14 – Markos

The fishing boat rocked and swayed against its moorings. Under the scent of salt and brine, a sharper tang punctuated the air. It wasn’t difficult to find the source. Crimson streaks stained the rough wood deck, leading to the five black tarps near the helm.

Iosif rushed forward, a cry of despair leaving the young man’s lips.

I met Zephyr’s hard gaze before sliding a look to the sea. Tuning out my cousin’s grief, I focused on the gulls yapping and shrieking on the docks as they fought for their next meal. My own sorrow turned to ice, unable to be expressed through words or action.

Decades ago, Death had claimed my own family in an equally horrible manner. He was not merciful, robbing without care of whom he hurt. I blocked out images of the little fishing village on the rocky Thracian coast going up in flames. But try as I might, I couldn’t unsee the images of my parents and siblings slaughtered. The scars along my body wept with a fresh sheen of sweat, remembering how I’d been at the invaders’ mercy and unable to fight and save them.

It was better never to love than to suffer such great loss. A lesson Iosif would learn if he was wise.

Hard steps announced his approach. I didn’t look as Zephyr stopped beside me. “Whoever executed the hit was efficient.”

A tight breath escaped my lungs, and with a great effort, I managed to shove the past into the recesses of my mind. “They had to have been to sneak up on Iakovos.”

Zephyr grunted. “Poor bastards never saw it coming. Their bodies are a mess, but there’s an execution bullet hole in the back of every skull.”

“Do you think it was more than one shooter?” I finally slid a glance in the other man’s direction.

He shrugged. “Looks that way.”

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