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Chapter fourteen

C arrying my Little Virgin back to the mausoleum, I ignored Father Demarco's scornful look as I walked through the doors. I wanted to focus solely on granting this odd request. How could I deny her this if it was to be her last?

The mausoleum was still open, my blood fresh enough to maintain the seal of entry. Vivian curled into my arms, and I inhaled her sweet scent, walking forward and following the scripture written on the walls.

The torture chamber was below, and the hair on my neck stood at attention from simply being on these stone steps again. I had fallen in line after the year I spent here, and the other members of the Divine followed my example to avoid the same fate. If the order could deem a punishment so severe for their king, what would they do to those beneath him?

We arrived at the dank, cold cavern. The large board of wood was still erect despite the years it had been left abandoned. The dimly lit torches along the walls illuminated the contraption in the center of the space.

It was closed, seemingly sealed shut by my blood, creating a sort of glue. My screams flashed in my mind. My voice had been raw at times, and at others, my ears rang until I couldn’t hear myself.

My father’s punishments were the worst. His hand never missed, and the crack of the leather strap felt like it had seared its pain into my bones. I steadied my breathing, trying to ignore the faint echo of those words long ago.

“ You cannot escape your bloodline, you fool! You are their king, and if we must nail your feet into the ground where you stand, you will lead the Divine to carry our legacy and order! You have challenged me long enough. I am done being lenient, Maddox.”

“Fuck you.” I hissed as another lash burned my flesh, striking in the same place as the last one.

My blood splashed on my face from the puddle below me and continued to drip down my severed back. The Order would clean my wounds with alcohol and seal them with salt, only for the torture to continue the next day. The scarification would be permanent, marking me for all to see as the traitor they claimed me to be.

My father laughed from behind my broken body. “Oh, son, you poor ignorant man. When will you learn? You cannot escape who you are. The only way you release your binds from being a Valentine is in death.”

His words sunk into my core.

Death.

It was always death, and my only choice was to kill those given to me or die in their stead.

“It is the balance needed in the universe,” he continued to yammer on. “When I was the leader, I maintained that order and knew that my hand was not my own. It is the will of the great St. Valentine. Through us, he selects the chosen, and we are blessed to...”

His words didn’t stop, but the pain made me feel dizzy. My vision blurred, and my father’s boasts became hazy in my ears. As soon as I was close to passing out, he would attack again. His timing kept me on a razor’s edge. He knew when it had been long enough for the adrenaline to flow through my body again, keeping me awake.

He was the most skilled in true torture. The flagellations were scheduled to keep me from achieving more than thirty minutes of rest. However, on the days my father took over, he lessened those precious minutes to an interval of ten.

“Death would be better than listening to your stupid ass speeches about yourself. You will never be St. Valentine. You’ll die one day knowing you only lived to be in his shadow. No matter how hard you try, the Divine is his, not yours,” I spat, weakly trying to adjust my body inside the pillory.

In the reflection of my blood on the ground, I looked like a broken soldier.

Was there any muscle on my body anymore?

Bread was shoved in my mouth twice a day, but it wasn’t enough. Phoenix would try to sneak me proper food when he could, but even my dear friend refused to look at me.

We’d used to spar so many times, and now I felt he only had to blow in my direction to knock me off my feet.

How long did I have left until my body would refuse to continue?

My father growled.

Another lash cut so deep I cried out in pain. My vowel to not allow him to relish in my pain broke. I was unable to bite my tongue hard enough to refrain from letting him collect my agony. My legs buckled beneath me, and the weight of my body made me pant.

I scrambled, trying to readjust my position, desperate to keep my feet on the ground.

“Perhaps I am looking at this all wrong,” he said, a dangerous air to his tone. “You’d rather the rats continue to pick off your flesh little by little before you submit to me. That much has been made clear. Maybe to ensure a leader does his duty, you can’t simply force his hand by spilling his blood.”

I wanted to vomit.

I did not like his tone.

He was too excited.

The last time he had that particular joy lacing his words, they brought those damn vermin in here to feast on my ankles. Stomping and kicking, I finally managed to kill enough of them—their horrid bodies littered around the area where my feet landed.

Not long after, I couldn’t smell their dead carcasses any longer, and the rest of their friends thought better than to use me as a meal.

“Phoenix!” my father snapped, and my friend walked through the archway.

He didn’t look at me because he couldn’t. I kept my gaze on the ground, my hair falling into my face.

“Yes, my Lord?” Phoenix said.

“Bring me my son.”

Phoenix walked forward, untying my binds and opening the wooden pillory. I had been in that contraption for so long now that being out of it felt foreign.

My back had flesh hanging off it—I could feel the odd movement of the pieces slither and slide across me. Glancing down, I saw other pieces of my dead skin curled up and dried lying on the ground.

Phoenix linked his shoulder under my arm and started to walk to my father, but then the monster held up his hand, and my friend stopped.

“Not him.”

All the strength I had left in me faded away. My legs finally collapsed, unable to be held up any longer.

“No,” I said weakly, leaning forward and bowing at my father’s feet. “Please. Not Hayes. Please. I will do as you wish. Just…Leave my brother alone.”

His smile was crueler than I had ever witnessed, and I knew at that moment that I had sold my soul. I could only pray that it was enough to save my brothers.

“Is that thing the place where you were whipped?”

I blinked, staring down at Vivian in my arms. She waited for the memories to leave, allowing me a moment to collect myself and set her down on her feet. Her dress acted as a robe, the two sides split open, revealing her beautiful body. I tried to focus on her curves and the swell of her breasts, not letting my past overtake me again.

Vivian walked to the pillory, grimacing when she looked down on the cavern ground to see dried marks of blood. Her small hands trailed over the wood, and she was quiet as she studied the torture device.

“Oh, Maddox…” she said, looking over at me, but I let my head fall. Appearing weak in front of my prey was not…just no. I loathed this feeling, and I despised reliving old wounds. But mostly, I detested that look of pity on her face.

“Don’t,” I demanded, ready to turn around and go back to the chapel.

“I’m sorry. I just can’t imagine what you went through. The Divine are truly monsters to do that to their own king. I…I just…”

I walked over to her, pushing back my feelings of unease the closer I got to that damn board. My breath hitched, and I pushed Vivian to lean against what had brought me an overabundance of pain.

I took her mouth in mine, demanding that she feel pleasure in this hell. If only for tonight…I could give her this. I could offer her solace and safety.

I could allow peace for… myself .

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw what was hanging on the back of the rock wall. It was the scourge. The damn thing sat abandoned in the metal hook all these years.

With shaking hands, I broke apart from the kiss, leaving her breathless. I swallowed hard and forced myself to pick it up. It felt heavy in my hands, and I gripped the damn leather so tightly I could feel the burn as it cut into my palms.

Vivian eyed me cautiously as I approached her with the long, wispy weapon.

“Bend over, Little Virgin.”

She blinked and scoffed at me.

However, I spun her around quickly and bent her over the wood. Throwing her dress over her back, I lashed her ass in a loud crack that echoed on the walls before she could scream at me.

One time.

I needed this.

I needed to remember her cries instead of my own. Unlike the yardstick, I immediately kissed and licked the welt mark I had made. Her body froze under my tongue, and I leaned up to do it again.

Crack.

Another lashing across Vivian’s ass, and again, I massaged the mark and licked the swollen red area. My cock was hard as stone, but I ignored it.

It wasn’t about me.

It was about her.

The Valentines endured the punishments of their bloodline.

I moaned and slipped my fingers down over her slit, feeling the wetness there. She was enjoying this. For the first time, she wasn’t fighting me.

“Such a good girl taking your punishment, Little Virgin. I love it when you behave for me.”

She mewled and arched her back like a cat in heat. The urge to fuck her right here and now was challenging to ignore. Instead, I let the whip slash into her skin.

“Count,” I demanded, hitting her a little harder than the last.

She panted and tried to catch her breath. “Five.”

“Yes. That’s my good girl. My fucking Valentine. Keep going.”

Again the leather cracked down onto her ass, and she cried out a number.

This happened over and over until she was drenched for me, her little pussy glistening in the dim light of the lanterns around us. I pulled her up, needing that visual confirmation, while wrapping her wrists in the long black strings of leather.

She spoke to me with her gaze. Lust and desire walloped me as she bit her lip.

Growling with need, I picked her up using my foot to open the pillory.

I sat her down carefully, her legs resting in the notches my arms were in so long ago. I smiled at her beauty and tilted her body toward my pelvis. My pants were down in seconds, and I slammed into her cunt.

She rode my thrusts this time.

Her body rocked with me, her nails digging deep into my arms.

I loved staring at her body, loved the sweat coating her face from how well she was keeping pace with my thrusts.

She is absolutely…divine.

“Oh fuuuck Vivian. The way you bounce on my cock, I…I…won’t make it. I can’t control myself when I am with you. God, you are my undoing.”

She screamed, her pussy clamping down on my dick, and the walls inside her contracted over and over again. I was leaking like a geyser, my body so consumed by this woman that I felt like there was no end to her.

She was a part of me in so many ways.

My come spilled out onto my dick from the sides of her pussy, and I smiled like a fucking idiot. Vivian allowed me to help her off the torture device, accepting me when I pulled her in for a kiss. I bit and sucked her lips, getting myself all worked up.

Pulling away, she laughed, and I loved that fucking husky tone of hers. “We're not done yet, Little Virgin. There is one more thing to do.”

Now Vivian looked puzzled.

She watched me pull up my pants and undo the whips’ binds, tying them around my wrists and using my mouth to pull them tighter. I turned to her and slowly kneeled at her feet, letting my knees hit the hard, unforgiving ground.

“I may not be able to change my fate, Little Virgin.” I said, “Or yours. But I want to remember you forever. I realized all too late that I…do not belong to the Divine...I belong to you .”

Vivian’s eyes widened, but I reached my bound hands into my pants pocket, pulling the knife free. I lifted it up to her, bowing my head to the ground, and waited.

“Please, Little Virgin. Mark me. Cover their names and the scars. I want to bear only your brand for the rest of my life.”

Vivian’s breath caught, and she hesitated. I wondered if she would simply stab me in the back with it or plunge the metal into my temple and end all of this. I was risking a lot in this position, and every part of my words and actions were damning us both.

Finally, I saw her shadow as it moved along the ground.

She came up behind me and pressed her soft hands into my flesh. This was nothing like the punishments of the Divine or the Elders when they carved their names into me as their king. This was something else that I couldn’t describe. I didn’t feel pain when the knife entered my skin. I felt pride.

When she was done, she walked back in front of me, crouching down to hand me the bloody knife.

I smiled at her, feeling only immense happiness in the place that had truly tortured me for so long.

She changed that.

She changed my hell into a sanctuary.