Stygian (The Dark-Hunter World Book 28)

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Stygian (The Dark-Hunter World Book 28) Page 56

by Sherrilyn Kenyon


  Before he went into battle. Only back then, Ash hadn’t cared. Lost in his own misery, he hadn’t spared three seconds to consider Styxx’s.

  Just because you have it bad, Acheron, it doesn’t mean I have it good. No wonder Styxx had snarled that at him.

  Repeatedly. But the scar that really racked him was the one right over his heart. The one Ash had given his own brother … out of pain.

  Because he’d wanted it all to just stop hurting. “Why are you still here?” Styxx asked. “You wanted me out of your life. I’m out. I’m sorry I sent that damn horse that I didn’t want to look at anymore. I won’t ever bother any of you again. Just go!”

  “Why did you send it?”

  A tic worked in Styxx’s jaw. “Because I promised you that I wouldn’t let anything happen to it, and contrary to what you think of me, I don’t break the promises I make.”

  Ash closed his eyes as pain overwhelmed him. Why didn’t I talk to you when you were in Katateros like you’d asked me to?

  Because he’d been angry. Hurt.

  Mostly angry.

  “I just wanted to say I’m sorry, Styxx.”

  Styxx gave him an astonished glare. “Oh, okay.” His tone dripped with sarcasm. “Glad you got it all off your chest. Ta ta!”

  You are an asshole.

  So what if it was justified?

  Ash sighed. “Before I go, would you like to see a picture of Sebastos with your gift?”

  When those searing blue eyes met his, the raw anguish in them hit Ash like a groin kick. “You think you know pain? You don’t. Trust me. I lived your fucking life, remember? I know every single detail of it. And since Artemis had me locked in that hell and I saw why you hate me for no reason and for things I had no part in, it has taken everything I have to not hate you for it, and for what your mother did to me. For everything she stole from me. But if you show me a picture of your perfect, healthy son, I will not be responsible for what I do to you. And before you go Ryssa on me, and tell me how selfish I really am … I do not begrudge you your happiness or your family. I don’t have room in my thoughts for it as I’m too busy grieving for mine. Now go!”

  Nodding, Ash backed out of the tent.

  He heard Styxx’s anguished bellow of unleashed rage. It was the same sound of injustice that rang out whenever a Dark-Hunter died as a human. It was the sound that summoned Artemis down from Olympus to ask them if they would like to sell their soul to her for an act of vengeance against the person or persons who’d wronged them.

  Acheron had never once thought someone would make it because of his actions against them.

  And never would he have dreamed it would come from the throat of his own brother. He’d been so wrapped up in his own pain and anger that he’d never once considered Styxx’s. From the outside, Styxx’s life had looked so perfect.

  Beloved prince. Hero of Didymos. Heir to a vast empire.

  But a house could look new on the outside and be riddled with termites that ate away at its foundations until it crumbled from the strain of trying to hold itself up under their brutal assault.

  And a single smile could hide profound pain.

  “I am sorry, Styxx.” And this time, he really meant it.

  Needing his own sense of peace, Acheron headed for Savitar’s island home. Since it was dusk there, he found his old mentor and friend in a black wet suit sitting in the surf beside his surfboard, watching the sunset over the ocean. Leaning back on his arms, he had his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles.

  Savitar groaned the minute he saw him. “Grom coming to disturb my mellow. What up, my brother?”

  Ash transformed his clothes into a wet suit so that he could join Savitar in the surf. He sat down. Bending his knees and wrapping his arms around his legs, he sighed heavily. “Urian said that you had to pull Styxx out of a coma?”

  Savitar nodded.

  “What do you know about his past?”

  The ancient Chthonian shrugged nonchalantly. “You were his brother. You should know.”

  “Don’t play with me, Sav. Not in the mood.”

  He glanced over at Ash. “I truly don’t know more than a handful of details.”

  “Such as?”

  With a heavy sigh, he stretched out on the board and raked a hand through his hair. “You know I was the Chthonian for Atlantis so I only know what happened there. Not anything else.”

  Sav was lying his ass off, but Ash wouldn’t call him on it right now. “And?”

  “I know what you do … that Styxx led his army to Atlantean shores and kicked the utter shit out of them. So much so that their gods were forced to make a pact with Apollo in order to stop Styxx and his army while the Atlanteans still had a country to call their own.”

  Ash frowned at that. “It wasn’t the gods who made the pact, though. It was the Greek kings. They offered to give Apollo my sister.”

  He turned his head on the board to give him an are-you-stupid stare. “Not exactly.”

  Ash hated whenever Savitar used those words. It was never a good thing. “What do you mean?”

  “It was never your sister Apollo wanted. Not really. While she was attractive, Styxx had the same unearthly beauty and sexual allure, courtesy of Epithymia”—she’d been the Atlantean goddess of desire who’d touched Acheron at birth and cursed him to be pursued by anyone who looked at him—“that you did. And Apollo was enamored with Styxx from the moment he first saw him … like you and Artemis. The Atlantean gods had to get Styxx off their shores before he overthrew them. And Apollo wanted Styxx back in Greece as much as the Atlantean gods did. But they all knew the Didymos king would never agree to publicly give his heir up to be Apollo’s mister-ess. So Apollo used Ryssa as a ruse to get to and control Styxx.”

  Sadly, that explained so much about their childhood and past.

  And it made Ash’s stomach burn with guilt and pain. “Since you were the Atlantean Chthonian, do you know about the other time Styxx came to Atlantis?”

  Savitar gave him a blank, cold stare. “Your brother was in Atlantis four times in his lifetime.”

  Ash gaped. No, it wasn’t possible.… “Four?”

  Savitar nodded. “The first was as a boy to free you from your uncle. Estes caught him and took him into custody.”

  “And you didn’t stop it?”

  “Didn’t know about that one when it happened.”

  How could he not? “What do you mean?”

  His gaze tormented, Savitar used both hands to rub at his forehead as if he had a throbbing headache. “Because she was so afraid of anyone learning where you were, your mother had my powers shielded when you were young so that I couldn’t see you or your twin. I didn’t know he’d tried to free you until I yanked him out of his coma in New York.”

  “What made you look, then?”

  “I saw the word ‘whore’ in ancient Greek and the Atlantean ‘tsoulus’ along with your uncle’s slave mark branded into his groin. I foolishly wanted to know how he’d gotten them. Let that be a lesson about looking into an abyss. It sucked me in and bitch-slapped me with a reality I wish to the gods I’d never seen.”

  Ash closed his eyes as pain slammed into him so hard, he could barely think straight. “Please … tell me you’re lying.”

  “You know better. That was why Styxx assaulted Atlantis like he had a grudge match against them. He did. Your uncle had kept him and sold him, just like he did you. He even pierced Styxx’s tongue … as did Apollo. He wanted to burn the whole continent to the ground not only for himself, but for you, too.”

  Ash’s breath left him in a bitter wave of sympathy. “Since you looked, how did my uncle capture him?”

  “Do not ask questions you do not want the answers to.”

  But Ash didn’t listen. He was desperate for answers. “I want to know.” He needed to know.

  Savitar cut a harsh look toward him. “You should know already, Acheron. You were there when it happened.”

  “Bullshit!” Ash paused a
s he tried to remember, but he had no details. It was total darkness. “Show me.”

  Savitar shook his head. “There are some memories no one needs.”

  Still, Ash didn’t listen. “Artemis punished Styxx with my memories. She forced him to live my life and instead of it making him forgive me, it’s fueled his hatred to an all-time high, and I want to know why. Please, Savitar. I need to see how he got taken.”

  “And I refuse to show you,” he said harshly … in a bitter tone he’d never used with Ash before. “Suffice it to say, he would have gotten away had you not dragged your feet and called out to your uncle to tell him where you were. You could have voluntarily escaped with Styxx but were too afraid to try. Worse, while Estes held him, you laughed and gloated over what they did to Styxx. Constantly. You threw it in his face the whole time he was in Atlantis with you. You even held him down while he was branded.”

  No …

  No! Ash panted as that unbelievable reality slapped him. He choked on denial. “I didn’t do that.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  Ash shook his head. “I’m not that kind of person, Savitar. I’m not. I would never do that to another person. Especially not my brother.”

  “Every man, woman, and child is capable of extreme and utter prejudice and cruelty when they feel justified in their hatred. Right or wrong. Even against their own brother. We are all capable of lashing out when we’re in pain. No one, not even you or I, is immune from that. As the old saying goes, be kind to everyone you meet for we are all fighting difficult battles. And yes, you thought it was funny to have the beloved prince heir branded a whore and a slave and sold just as you were. In your defense, you were young, drugged, and lost in your own hell.”

  “That’s no excuse.” Ash blinked back his tears as he choked hard on guilt he wanted to continue to deny.

  “No, it’s not an excuse. It’s just harsh, biting reality.” Savitar let out a bitter laugh. “Ever wonder why the gods created man, Grom? I personally think that we’re the original reality show. They were so effing bored that they created us just so that they could feel better about themselves.”

  “You’re not funny.”

  Savitar sighed. “No. Tragedy never is. Our lives are marked and shaped by our regrets. Things we all want to take back and can’t. In a perfect world, we would never hurt the ones we love or cause hurt to befall them. But the world isn’t perfect, and sadly neither are we.”

  Still, Ash couldn’t forgive himself for the way he’d treated Styxx all these centuries. “I’m almost afraid to ask about Styxx’s second visit.”

  “You were there for that one, too.”

  “When they threw me out …” And after he’d purposefully baited and mocked Styxx.

  No wonder his brother hated him. Urian was right. He’d earned it.

  And he owed Urian an apology.

  More than that, he owed one to his brother.

  But how could he ever make it up to either of them? He was so disappointed in himself. This was not the person he thought he was. The person he wanted to be.

  Savitar sat up and drew a ragged breath. “Acheron, look at me.”

  Heartsick, he did.

  “Never look back. You can’t change what you’ve done. You can only change what you’re going to do. Pain is always all around us. It’s easy to become blind to it. But imagine all the times in your life when you were hurting and going through shit, if just one person had looked over at you and instead of kicking you while you were down, had said, ‘It’s okay. You’re not a bad person. It’s just a bad turn of the cards. You’ll get through it.’ Can you imagine what an incredible world this would be?”

  October 12, 2012

  “Now there’s a sight I never thought I’d live to see.”

  Urian opened his eyes to find Cassandra standing over him with an amused smile.

  She tsked. “Two mighty Daimons cuddling babies, asleep while watching Toy Story. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”

  Rubbing his eyes, Urian scoffed. “What are you talking about? What kind of mom lets their kids watch this movie? Woody’s a psycho bastard, homicidal loon. And Sid? Holy shit. I so relate to him, which means no kid should be watching this for entertainment. I picked up pointers from both of them. Again, not a child-friendly show.”

  Davyn laughed as he woke up on the floor. “Good thing they weren’t here for your earlier diatribe. Or they’d never let you watch their kids again.”

  Wulf shook his head as he checked on Tyr and Phoebe, who were curled up on each side of Davyn while Jeff was asleep on Urian’s chest and Erik was tucked in at his feet on the couch.

  Cassandra scowled. “When was Jeff’s last feeding?”

  “I don’t know. ’Bout eight?”

  She gaped. “He’s never slept this long. You need to stay over more often.” Taking the infant, she carried Jeff upstairs.

  Wulf sat down in his chair. “Are you two staying the night?”

  “Nah, we’ll head out.” Urian carefully extracted his feet from his nephew’s hold while Davyn got up without waking his two charges.

  While Davyn gathered his things, Urian pulled a small box out of his backpack and handed it to Wulf. “I got that for you the other day.”

  Wulf opened the antique box to find an old medallion that glowed a peculiar shade of burgundy. “What is this?”

  “Your soul medallion.”

  He gaped. “What?”

  “Since you didn’t have yours, I did a little horse-trading with Loki and got it back for you.”

  “Horse-trading, how?”

  “Don’t worry about it.” When he started to leave, Wulf grabbed his wrist to hold him there. “Why did you—”

  “For the kids. I didn’t want anyone else owning a piece of you.” And seeing the god mark on Styxx’s back and some of the stories he knew about it had gotten his mind going into dangerous places. So long as Loki held that soul …

  This was safer for everyone. Especially with what was coming for them.

  No one needed their souls in the wrong hands. First rule of life. Be careful with your soul. It’s the only one you have. And once you sell it, it’s hard to get it back.

  “I feel like a thank-you is so inadequate. What can I do for you in return?”

  Urian snorted. “Don’t lose it again. And remember that Helios is on the move. I don’t know what he’s planning, but keep Cassandra and the kids on lockdown.”

  “I always do.”

  That was true.

  Inclining his head, Urian and Davyn left. But Urian still couldn’t shake the bad feeling in his stomach. The gods were stirring for war again.

  And they were in the center of it.

  December 21, 2012

  “Simi … are you sure this is a good idea?”

  “Absolutely!” Simi grinned at her sister Xirena as they entered the basement of her akri’s temple on Katateros. “Now where’s a light switch?”

  “There’s not one.” Xirena breathed fire onto an old spiderweb-covered torch. As soon as one lit, it spread light to all the others in the dark marble room. The flames danced along the wall, adding creepy shadows to the already creepy environment.

  Simi stepped back at the number of statues that were housed here. While she’d known her akri had putted them here centuries and centuries ago, she’d never actually visited them, especially since they made her akri very unhappy. “The Simi didn’t remember there being so many … Akra had broked bad on all these nonquality peoples.”

  “I remember.” Xirena’s tone was low and breathless. “It was not a pretty day.”

  Simi arched a brow. “You were there, Big sissy?”

  Xirena nodded. “Xedrix, too.” Xedrix was their brother who’d been Apollymi’s most favored Charonte after their mother’s death. But Xed had deflected … no, defected when akri-Styxx opened the portal in New Orleans and let him out. Now he owned a club in New Orleans where the Simi got to eats lots of good seafood.

  “Ooo, so
what happened, Big sissy?”

  “The bitch-goddess Apollymi was furious. They all died screaming. Excepted for two.”

  “Who two?”

  “Dikastis and Bet’anya. She tried to keep the bitch-goddess from killing her baby, but the bitch-goddess didn’t listen. She yanked it right out of her belly, and then turned her into one of these.”

  Simi touched her own stomach in sympathetic pain. “Why was Akra so mean?”

  Xirena shrugged. “The bitch-goddess was always mean. She only likes you and her son … and Kat and Mia.”

  Simi climbed up on the woman closest to her and poked at her stone eyeball. “Which one is thisest she?”

  Xirena spat on the ground at the statue’s feet. “Epithymia. She an even bigger bitch-goddess. She used to pull the wings off Charonte who made her mad.”

  Simi cringed, then poked harder in the goddess’s eye, hoping she could feel it. “Who the one who losted her akri-Styxx’s baby? She’s the one the Simi needs.”

  Xirena walked around them, looking at them, up and down, until she found one in the back. “This is Bet’anya.”

  Simi headed over, then gasped. “She look just likes akri-Styxx’s drawings. She the one he loved so much.” Biting her lip, she met her sister’s gaze. “Was she nice?”

  Nodding, Xirena touched Bet’anya’s hand. “She was always very sad, though. Even when she was happy, she looked so sad. Like something wasn’t quite right in her heart. Chara goddess used to say it’s because they took something from her long ago they shouldn’t have.”

  Simi gave her sister a knowing look. “That’s ’cause she don’t gots her akri-Styxx. He loves her and so this is the Simi’s Christmas present to him. The Simi tolds him on his birthday that wishes come true, and his wish is for his akra to come home to him.”

  “Yeah, but Xiamara, this … it’s bad.” Xirena shook her head. “I don’t think we should.”

  “We gots to, Big sissy. This the only time them portals things open. If we don’t do it now, akri-Styxx will have to wait a long, long time and he already waited a long, long time. The Simi don’t like to see him so sad. He don’t get prezzies and the Simi wants to get him the best prezzie ever.”

 

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