Styxx (DH #33)

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Styxx (DH #33) Page 22

by Sherrilyn Kenyon


  “For a blind woman, you mean?”

  “For any woman. And I meant no disrespect to you, in any way.”

  She smiled. “None taken.”

  Styxx clenched his teeth as he looked about their small clearing. “I feel terrible leaving you here alone. Are you certain you don’t wish for me to take you home?”

  “My father would not approve. He would want to interrogate you and I don’t think you’re up to that today.”

  And if her father saw him, he might recognize him. That could be disastrous. “Very well then. I am gone now. Until the morrow.”

  “Until the morrow, good Hector.”

  Styxx sank his hands into the mane of his horse and used his hands to guide Troian home. And with every step that put distance between them, his thoughts stayed with the most beautiful, gentle creature he’d ever met. One who was as pure and innocent as he wished he was.

  You barely know her.

  True, yet he wanted to know her better. No one had ever made him feel like she did. Funny and welcome. Heroic and noble, even though all he’d done was bleed all over her and sleep in her lap. How stupid was that?

  Somehow she’d eased the pain in his heart and made everything better. Made him smile even when he wanted to cry. How could he leave such a miracle?

  May the gods have mercy on him, he wanted her with everything he had.

  What can you offer a woman so fine? You’re a scarred, worthless whore. She would be horrified to know what she’d held today.

  Would she have been so kind if she knew the truth of him? Or would she curl her lip and run? But she didn’t know who or what he was. To her, he was just a normal man.

  And to him, she was perfection.

  Counting down the seconds until he could see her again, Styxx dismounted in the drive then slowly climbed the palace stairs.

  Damn, it hurt.

  Did they really need so many?

  The guards opened the door to the palace. Styxx had just reached the stairs that led to his room when his father’s voice stopped him.

  “What happened to you?”

  He paused at his father’s approach and let out a tired breath. His father would be furious at his unkempt state. “I slipped from my horse.”

  “Your tutors said that you didn’t attend your lessons, nor your training.”

  No, shit. Really? The man truly couldn’t see his pain. He was filthy, covered with bruises and cuts, and blood and mud and dirt.… Still his father berated him.

  “I fell, Father. I had meant to return much earlier, but had to find my horse. Please forgive me for my inconsideration to all of you.”

  As I bled my way home …

  His father’s gaze sharpened in warning. “Careful of your tone, boy. Now, should I call the physician for you?”

  Styxx shook his head. “I shall live,” he said bitterly. For now he knew the truth of what the wise woman had proclaimed at his birth. He could only die if Acheron died first. So long as his brother lived, he lived, too. Or perhaps they were both immortal. Either way, he had no need to fear death now.

  Thanatos would never come for him.

  Maybe if I were beheaded …

  Then again, did he want to test that theory? It could be rather grotesque to walk around carrying his head in his hands.… Given the perversity of the gods, anything was possible.

  Yet as he thought of Bethany, he no longer minded living in this stygian nightmare. Not if he could spend another day with her like this one.

  Only, more preferably, he’d be awake for it.

  His father’s brow drew tight as he finally realized that Styxx wasn’t bleeding for no reason. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “Fine, Father.” Styxx took a step then paused. “Majesty? May I ask a favor of you?”

  His frown deepened. “Yes. Of course.”

  Styxx doubted his father would be so accommodating once he heard it. But he had to try even if it meant more humiliation for himself. “Might we please bring Acheron home?”

  Rage darkened his father’s eyes. “You know how I feel about that. He was sent away for your protection. Why would you have him return?”

  Because he’s my brother …

  And he couldn’t stand the thoughts of what was being done to him. Regardless of what Acheron said or thought, he didn’t want to leave him in Atlantis. Not with Estes.

  “Doesn’t it concern you that he could be harmed while away from us and thereby cause me harm?”

  “Estes keeps him guarded. There’s no danger to him there.”

  To be so highly intelligent, you’re so stupid.

  Why was his father so blind to Estes’s vices and no one else’s? Styxx couldn’t even imagine having someone love him like that. Someone who would never judge or hate him, no matter his committed atrocities.

  And none of that mattered right now …

  “Please, Father. I’ve never, in my entire life, asked you for anything else.”

  “And it is the one thing I will never give you. Understood? Now get yourself cleaned up. Your filth and stench offend me. You smell like a woman.”

  Yes, he did. He had to bite back a smile at the memory Bethany’s scent awoke. If he could, he’d carry the smell of her on him forever.

  Styxx started past his father only to have him grab his arm in a tight grip. He narrowed his gaze as he gave Styxx a hard, fierce stare.

  “I know you keep secrets from me, boy. You always have.”

  Because whenever I tried to tell them to you when I was a child, you slapped me for them.

  Now those secrets would only give his father a real reason to hate and resent him.

  “And I don’t believe you about today. I think there’s more to where you were.”

  Styxx kept his features blank, his eyes hooded. “As you can plainly see, Father, I fell and was badly injured.” The only thing he’d lied about was his intention to return home.

  “Get out of my sight.” He pushed him away.

  Gladly. Styxx headed upstairs as best he could.

  As he turned toward his room, he slowed down at the approach of his sister and mother in the upper hallway. Their laughter died the moment they saw him.

  He inclined his head to them respectfully. “Mother. Ryssa.”

  A deep frown creased his mother’s brow. “What happened to you?”

  For a moment, he thought he might detect a note of maternal concern. But the additional curling of her lip that derided him said it was either nonexistent or fleeting.

  “I was thrown.”

  “From what?” His mother laughed bitterly. “A whore’s bed? You reek of her stench. You must have been wallowing in her for hours.”

  “She’s not a whore,” he snarled before he could stop himself.

  “Men,” his mother sneered to Ryssa. “They are ever fickle with their affections. Pray, daughter, that you never give your heart over to one. They couldn’t care less about it so long as you welcome them to your body.” She turned her hate-filled eyes back at him. “In the future, I suggest you put yourself in order before you return home. You are a prince of this realm. I don’t think it’s too much to expect a modicum of decorum and dress from you when you leave your whores behind.”

  Styxx felt his jaw tic. “I know, Mother. I offend my entire family. If not my manner or speech then my dress, and above all, it’s my penis that offends you and Ryssa most.”

  They sucked their breaths in sharply.

  “Xerxes!” his mother shouted.

  “Have me whipped. It won’t change anything. You speak to Ryssa about men when you know nothing of us. You’ve never bothered to learn. We’re simple creatures, really. You just have to be nice to us.” He cocked his head at the sound of his father’s approach.

  “You called?” his father asked.

  Styxx answered for her. “She’s going to tell you how I’ve offended her and Ryssa with the truth, Father. How I’ve used inappropriate language before ladies. Do you wish me to bath
e before or after I’m beaten?”

  His father scowled. “You’re not the same as before. What has changed you?”

  Styxx swallowed the pain that choked him. He’d been raped, whored, beaten, and threatened for it, seen his father turn his twin out into the cold. He’d had his brother curse him for trying to help him, and then had discovered he couldn’t die. How could all that not change him?

  “Life has changed me, Majesty. I live only to serve you and my people. I have no other purpose.”

  His father stiffened. “Are you being smart with me?”

  “No, Sire. Tell me how to please you and I will do so.”

  “His insolence should be punished, Father. He mocks you and insults us.”

  “Look me in the eye, boy. Are you mocking me?”

  Styxx met his gaze without flinching. “Nay, Sire. Why would I?”

  “And what did you say to your mother and sister?”

  “I merely remarked on the irony of Matisera teaching Ryssa about men when she knows nothing of us. And how the part of me that truly offends them most is my penis.”

  His mother gestured angrily at him. “You see how he treats us.”

  For once, his father laughed. “He speaks the truth. I shan’t punish him for that.”

  His mother’s eyes flared before she stepped forward and slapped Styxx where his face was already bruised.

  Styxx tasted blood from his lips as the cuts there were reopened.

  “I weep over the day I birthed you.” She raked his father with a sneer before she stormed off with Ryssa trailing behind her.

  “Ignore them, boy. Women only have two uses. In the bed and as bargaining tools. Other than that, you’d do well to avoid them. And speaking of, I paid off another of your whores earlier while you were out.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “One of the serving wenches came to me with a daughter she claims is yours. Have no fear, I’ve set them up for you and they won’t be back to plague you.”

  Styxx ground his teeth. “It’s not mine.”

  His father laughed. “Of course it is. Don’t worry. I’m not angry. It happens. I can’t even begin to catalogue all the bastards I have. The trick is to send them far enough away so that neither you nor your sons accidentally tup one of your bastard daughters.”

  Styxx shook his head in disbelief of his father’s nonchalance over something he found highly offensive. And the fact that his father had paid off some unknown woman while he was virgin still …

  Well, not technically after Estes and the animals he traveled with. Yet even with the servants and others throwing themselves at him for the last few years, he had yet to sleep with a woman. Any woman. He hadn’t even kissed one. He’d been too afraid of embarrassing himself with his inexperience.

  And now … he had no desire to be with one who might uncover his brand.

  Not to mention, after having been abused himself, he wasn’t about to bed with someone who had no authority to turn him down. The last thing he wanted was to have sex with someone who didn’t want to be with him.

  His father clapped him lightly on the shoulder. “Go clean yourself and rest in peace. I’ll see you at dinner.”

  Styxx bowed slightly before he went to his room and shut the door. He didn’t know what hurt most. The fact that his own mother despised him for things he hadn’t done or the fact that the only thing his father took pride in was something he hadn’t done.

  Hissing in pain, he quickly sat on his bed as his feet began to burn. Acheron was being caned there. He knew it. While his own feet had never been struck, he’d taken a cane across his buttocks enough to recognize the sensation.

  Damn you, Estes.

  At least this time he was alone so that he could deal with the pain and not have to pretend he felt nothing. Sitting down, he pressed his feet flush to the floor. As he moved, he caught the scent of lilies and eucalyptus.

  Bethany.

  He closed his eyes and summoned an image of her beautiful face and gentle touch. The sound of her voice as she sang to him. For the first time in his life, he knew exactly what he wanted.

  And his perfect woman had the most beautiful of names.

  * * *

  “What are you doing?”

  Bethany paused at the sound of Archon’s voice behind her. Shedding her human skin, she turned to glare at the king of the Atlantean gods. Just over seven feet in height, he thought every member of his pantheon should bow down before him.

  But it wasn’t in Bethany to cow before anyone. Even a gorgeous golden god-king. “I suggest a new tone for you, Archon, when you address me.… One with less bass.”

  “You’re supposed to be looking for Apostolos!”

  The missing Atlantean god-child Archon had foolishly fathered with his queen, Apollymi—the great destroyer of all worlds.

  Bethany had to give Apollymi credit. The fact that the god-queen could hide her child and keep him safe from all of their combined powers was extremely impressive. No one else could have gotten away with it.

  “I was looking for him, Archon. In Greece, as you suggested.”

  “And?”

  “And what? Apollymi is still imprisoned and I’m here alone. Obviously, Lord High King God, I don’t have your son nor did I kill him while I was out.”

  Archon’s eyes flared with fury. “You’re the one who needs to watch her tone.”

  Bethany scoffed at his rage. “Don’t threaten me. Need I remind you what happened the last time you crossed a goddess of this pantheon? It didn’t work out so well for you, did it? The last thing you want now is for me to join ranks with your wife against you.”

  A tic worked fiercely in his jaw. “We barely have five years before she releases his powers and the two of them attack us. Something that won’t go well for you either … I can feel him out there. I know he’s alive and well.”

  “Then you,” she pressed her fingertip against his massive chest, “find him. As his father, it should be easy for you.”

  He growled at her before he stormed off.

  Rolling her eyes, she pulled the small bit of Hector’s chiton from her pocket and smiled at the softness of the cloth. She lifted it to her nose so that his scent could warm her again.

  How foolish of her to be so smitten over a mere boy, especially since she’d always mocked the gods who took human lovers. She’d never understood the appeal of them. They were frail and pathetic, whiny creatures.

  But not Hector. Even while he’d bled all over her, he’d been funny and sweet. Kind. Considerate.

  Precious.

  “Bet’anya? Are you all right?”

  She met Chara’s gaze as the Atlantean goddess of joy joined her in the foyer of their main hall in Katateros—the Atlantean paradise realm where the gods made their homes. With flame-red hair and skin the color of alabaster, she was absolutely stunning. Tall and voluptuous, Chara was forever smiling and laughing.

  Bethany returned the cloth to her pocket before the other goddess saw it. “I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

  “You’re smiling. It scares me.”

  Bethany laughed at that, which then caused Chara to take a step back from her.

  “Now I am terrified. When the goddess of wrath and misery is happy … it cannot bode well for others.”

  True, but then Bethany couldn’t help it. She was born of Darkness, Chaos, Death, and Tears. It was hard to be lighthearted with that kind of conception and upbringing.

  But just the thought of Hector made her heart light.

  How ridiculous am I?

  “Have you ever…” Bethany hesitated, unsure if she wanted to let anyone else know what was on her mind.

  “Have I ever what?”

  Bethany glanced around the huge, white marble room to make sure no one else could hear them. “Been with a human?” she whispered.

  Chara flashed a bright grin. “Many, many times. They can be very entertaining.”

  “So it seems.”

  That made one of her re
d brows shoot straight up her forehead. “I take it you found one in particular who pleases you?”

  Bethany shrugged with a nonchalance she definitely didn’t feel. “It’s stupid, isn’t it? He’ll be old and dead in no time.…”

  “He doesn’t have to be. You could spare him that.”

  “Why would I? Infatuation never lasts more than a breath or two. I’m sure I’ll be bored with him the next time we meet. If we meet again.”

  “Don’t let Agapa hear you say that. You’d hurt her feelings.”

  Bethany snorted. “The goddess of love can take her seeds and put them in a most uncomfortable place. I don’t want her poison taking root in me. Ever.”

  Laughing, Chara wrinkled her nose. “Now that is the Bet’anya I know and love. Ever a pessimist.”

  “Ever a realist. You should try it sometime.”

  “No, thank you.” Chara rocked up onto her tiptoes. “I prefer to dream and see the beauty in the world and all its possibilities.”

  “It shrivels and it dies. All things do.”

  “But not us,” Chara reminded her. “We are eternal.”

  “Only with limitations.”

  Chara held her hands up. “I concede this fight. It’s nice to see Her Holy Crabbiness back. I’ve missed you so.”

  Bethany was crabby and cantankerous. She’d always been that way. But for one brief afternoon, she had been lighthearted. And she’d laughed …

  “I must be getting sick.”

  And she had better things to do than waste time with some mortal nothing. She had a missing god to find before the goddess of destruction was unleashed and destroyed them all. That and that alone was what she needed to be focused on.

  June 25, 9532 BC

  Styxx held his breath as he made his way back to the small clearing where Bethany had said she’d be. It’d taken him hours to get away from his father and tutors. After yesterday, his father had taken to watching him much more closely and he’d been forced to sneak away.

  Had he taken too long? Was she gone already?

  Emotionally wrecked at the thought, he broke through the trees and winced as he saw no trace of her. Damn it! He’d missed her because of them.

  Suddenly, he heard the faint steps of something moving away in the trees.

 

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