Innocence (Tales of Olympus #1)(42)

Oh yes, the gods were laughing. And Marcus was the butt of no ones’ joke. He was meant to be ruthless in all things. Especially revenge. So he would turn his heart and flesh to stone, harden himself to her pleas and wide eyes, and take the pound of flesh she owed by virtue of her birthright.

Behind him, Cora sighed.

Don’t ask. You’re not supposed to give a damn.

“What?” he bit out.

“I’m just wondering. Do I have a tattoo on my face that says ‘victim’?”

His brow wrinkled and he turned around to look at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re not the first person to take advantage of me. Oh no. There’s a pattern here. I came to the city to escape it. But look what a great job I’m doing.” She scoffed humorlessly. “The Donahues, then the guy who—”

“You won’t ever have to deal with them again,” he said before thinking.

“Oh right. You did something to the Donahues, didn’t you? Threatened them. Or whatever. Still,” she rocked her head back and forth, as far as the collar would let her. She wasn’t looking at him. Her derision was reserved for herself. “It’s always the same. I thought it was just my mother, but I’m sensing a pattern. And the common denominator is me.”

Marcus forced his fists to unclench and his forearms to relax. She’d been hurt before. Why did it make him so angry? It shouldn’t affect him one way or the other.

“It started with my mother, and now you—”

“What about your mother?” he interrupted.

“—you all think you can control me. And I let you. I’m so weak. I don’t want to be weak anymore.” The last part came on a whisper, as if she was speaking to herself.

“What did your mother do?” Marcus forced himself to remain calm. He didn’t know much about Demi other than that she’d grown up in foster care and had no family to speak of, then she married Karl Titan at 22 and had Cora a year later, her only child.

Cora scoffed, eyes to the ceiling. “What didn’t she do? She locked me in the basement, held me against my will. Kept me on the farm like it was a prison. She wouldn’t let me leave even for school or to socialize. Then there were the times she’d get physical, slapping or punching me if I ever stepped out of line, not to mention all the verbal abuse.”

Cora shook her head. “Gods, I don’t even think I’ve ever said it all out loud. But I was as trapped as...well, as trapped as I am now.” Her mouth twisted in a mocking semblance of a smile. “She did it all to protect me, of course. That’s what she’d tell you, if you were ever on speaking terms.”

“She hurt you?” A storm brewed in his chest. The thought of Demi slapping or beating his Cora… Because she was his. His jaw clenched and his vision narrowed the way it did when he had an enemy in his sights. No one else had the right to put their hands on what was his.

Cora looked at him a long moment. “I survived it, Marcus.” She said it so matter of factly. “I’ll survive this, too.”

He was doing it again. Forgetting she was the enemy. “Of course you’ll survive. You’ll live a long miserable life, I’ll make sure of it.” No one would hurt her. No one but him.

She sighed. “Did it ever occur to you that I’m just like your sister? An innocent, caught by circumstance.”

“You’re nothing like my sister,” he bit out again. “She died, and all the good in me died with her.”

It felt good to finally tell her the truth. And it was a good reminder of why she was here and the mission he’d devoted himself to since he discovered Chiara’s broken and bloodied body. His jaw hardened.

“That’s not true.” Cora strained forward. “There is good in you. I told Maeve so because I believe—”

“That’s enough.” Time to teach her her place.

He unlatched her chain from the headboard and held it firmly. She made no protest when he led her out of the room.

He ought to make her crawl. He’d intended to humiliate her in every possible way. But it just didn’t…feel right at the moment.

He still wanted it. Badly. To see her on her knees before him—his cock went steel just at the thought. But there was something about her willing submission, that moment when she finally gave in, the feisty spark still firing in her eyes—gods, he was quickly becoming addicted to it.

In fact, he hoped to see it in just a few moments.

She allowed him to lead her to the table, a heavy wooden piece long enough to seat twenty where they could eat with a view of the city glittering before them.

A table set for one.

A cushion lay beside his chair. He felt the moment she saw it and recognized what it meant.

“No.” She tugged away. “Uh uh.”

Marcus waited, holding her leash firmly, pleasure unfurling in his stomach. It was wrong to be enjoying her training this much but after all these years of self-control, it was the one impulse he couldn’t seem to deny himself.

“This is the price,” he reminded her. Food already sat on the table, plates covered by silver steam covers. The food smelled delicious and he could only imagine how it tormented her. Her stomach growled, an undeniable argument. She had to eat.

He watched the internal fight play out on her face.