Even then, he waited, afraid it was a trick. If his uncle had even a single breath left, he’d kill Styxx for this.
His hands were colder than ice when he finally reached to feel for a pulse.
Nothing.
He’s dead.
I killed him.
Tears filled his eyes as bile rose in his throat. He’d taken a life. And not just any life. His uncle’s.
His father’s beloved younger brother.
Styxx pulled the pillow back to reveal Estes’s glazed, open eyes. Ironically, Styxx didn’t see the sadistic bastard who’d spent the last year molesting him … he saw the uncle who’d been kind to him when he was a boy. The one who’d brought him presents and who had tried to help him.
Unable to cope with what he’d done and what had happened to him, Styxx ran to the chamber pot and unloaded his stomach.
My father will kill me if he ever finds out.
He’d committed murder. Cold-blooded. Brutal. A capital offense.
You had no choice.
But it didn’t seem like that now. Not with this kind of finality. I killed my own uncle. My flesh and blood.
Horrified, Styxx fell against the wall and tried to fathom why his eyes were dry. He glanced back to the bed and gasped as he saw the ropes he’d untied. They would let others know that Estes hadn’t been alone in his bed.
Panicking even more, he got up and quickly gathered them and any evidence that betrayed his presence here tonight. The second kylix. His gag. The “toys” his uncle had used on him. Then he closed Estes’s eyes and put the bed in order.
Terrified and queasy, he snuck from his uncle’s room and went to his, where he burned all the things he’d gathered until there was nothing left to betray him.
He set the kylix on his table and forced himself to lie in a bed that made his skin crawl. Guilt and fear, shame and horror mixed inside him, overriding any grief he might have known. And all he could do was wait for someone to discover Estes’s body.
And accuse him of a crime that would surely cost him his head.
* * *
It was midmorning before one of Estes’s entourage found him in his bed. Listening to the commotion outside, Styxx clung to his pillow as fear wrapped him tight and threatened to suffocate him the way he’d killed his uncle.
“Styxx!” his mother shouted as she threw his door wide. “Come! Your uncle’s dead.”
For a full minute, he couldn’t move as he tried to think of how to react. What would be acceptable.
And what wouldn’t get him convicted.
Before he could decide, his mother snatched the covers and pillow off him. “Did you hear me?”
Feigning sleep even though he had yet to close his eyes, he frowned at her. “What?”
“Estes is dead. He appears to have died in his sleep. Get up and dress, you worthless dog! We need you.”
He drew a ragged breath and got up to bathe and dress.
By the time he joined his family, his mother was kneeling on the floor next to Estes’s side, wailing with a grief he knew she didn’t feel. His gaze went to Ryssa, who knelt beside their mother. She had tears in her eyes, but he knew they weren’t for Estes. It was Acheron on her mind.
Xan narrowed a suspicious glare at him that told him the Atlantean prince knew what he’d done, but didn’t dare make the allegation without proof.
“Where have you been?” Phanes, his father’s oldest advisor, demanded.
Before Styxx could answer, he felt the air leave the room as all eyes went to the door behind him.
Turning, Styxx saw his father there with a stern glower as he took in the sight of everyone standing over his brother’s cold, naked body. Without a word, his father rushed to the bed and touched Estes’s shoulder. He winced in pain.
“Leave us!” his father roared.
Ryssa helped their mother to her feet and they made a hasty retreat.
As Styxx moved to follow them, his father stopped him.
“Not you, boy. I want you to stay.”
Fear pierced his heart as he closed the door behind the others then returned to his father’s side.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know, Father. I just found out about it myself.”
Tears flowed down the king’s face as he reached for Styxx and jerked him into his arms to hold him. Violent sobs shook his father’s entire body. Stunned, Styxx couldn’t move while his father wept against his chest. Never in his life had his father shown so much emotion over anything.
But what cut deepest were his father’s thoughts of the childhood he’d shared with his beloved brother. How much he’d loved the man the son he held had killed.
Styxx stiffened. Anger welled up inside him, demanding he shove his father away and tell him what his brother was really like. What Estes had done to him and to Acheron, and what he’d planned to do to Ryssa. But he knew his father would never believe him. Just as Ryssa would never believe Styxx was capable of any good deed, his father would never believe Estes was capable of a bad one.
And he would never forgive Styxx for killing him.
After a few minutes, his father pulled himself together and straightened. He wiped his tears and cleared his throat. “We shall give him a state funeral. Then we’ll have to see to his affairs in Atlantis.”
Styxx inclined his head to him. “What of the pending war?”
His father glanced back at his uncle and hung his head. “You’re right, boy. We’ll need to hurry this. We’ll have Estes buried tonight in our crypt and leave for Atlantis first thing. Have your sister and mother oversee the body preparations.”
Styxx hesitated before he complied. “I’m sorry, Father.”
The king pulled Styxx’s head down and kissed his brow. “Pack lightly.”
“Excuse me?”
“I don’t want to travel alone to Atlantis. I need you to go with me to do this. You will be my strength.”
His fear and remorse turned to cold rage. For his father’s benefit, Didymos could be left without a king on her throne.
But when he’d needed to go with his father …
There had been no way in Hades it could happen.
Had you once considered my needs, you bastard, your brother would still be alive. Styxx glanced to the bed where he’d been tied and wanted to tell his father the truth. He wanted to see his father’s face when he learned his own brother had turned both of his sons into whores.
Don’t. The truth would not go well for him. His father had never loved him the way he loved Estes, and he never would.
Styxx glanced down at the scar on his forearm and accepted a reality he couldn’t change. Bowing, he left his father and went to tell the others about the burial, and then to pack.
When he reached his rooms, Xan was inside, waiting for him.
The giant Atlantean stood with his legs wide and arms folded across his chest. Anger bled from every cell of his body. “You killed him, didn’t you?”
With all the training he’d received since birth, Styxx arched a regal brow. “What are you talking about?”
A good seven inches taller, Xan moved to tower over Styxx and did his best to intimidate him with his massive size. “I fucked your tight little ass with Estes last night. When I left, you were out of it and tied to the bed.” Xan snatched Styxx’s hand and held his bruised, scabbed wrist for Styxx to see. “Estes wouldn’t have freed you until he got up this morning and yet you weren’t there when I went in to fuck you again.”
“I awoke in the middle of the night and found him dead by my side. I panicked.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Should we take the matter to my father and let him decide the truth? But you’ll have to confess to him how it is you know for a fact that I couldn’t get free.”
Xan curled his lip. “You think you’ve gotten away with this. But the gods know what you’ve done. You killed him in cold blood. I’ve heard the Furies in your pantheon have a special wrath they visi
t on the heads of those who murder their own family.”
“Then I welcome them with open arms.” Styxx glared at him. “And I’m not the one who killed my uncle. You did the moment you decided to hunger for my sister.”
Xan slammed him back against the wall so hard, it knocked the breath from him. “I shall miss Estes. He was a good friend. But most of all, I shall miss watching you and your brother suck my cock until I come in your pretty little mouths, and seeing you swallow every last drop of me.”
Styxx moved to attack, but the bastard kneed him in the groin and left him to his misery. Both physical and mental.
* * *
Bethany sighed as she packed up her basket. Again. It’d been over a solid month since she’d last seen Hector. Faithless bastard that he was, she seethed mentally. Give men what they want and they can’t leave fast enough.
How she hated them all.
Trying not to think about how she’d let a mere mortal hurt her, she was just about to teleport home when she heard a rustling nearby.
“Beth?”
At first she thought it might be wishful thinking on her part.
Until she heard him call out again. “Hector?”
All of a sudden, he was by her side, pulling her gently against him. He held her so tight that she could barely breathe as he buried his face into the crook of her neck. His entire body was shaking so much that it frightened her.
“Is something wrong?”
“Not now that I’m finally with you again.” He tightened his arms around her. “I’m so sorry I haven’t been here. Believe me, I tried to come. I’ve thought of absolutely nothing else except being with you. Night and day.”
Those words and the truth in his desperate tone brought tears to her eyes. “I thought you’d forgotten all about me.”
“How could I forget the air I breathe? You alone sustain me.”
He was a great deal leaner than he’d been and there were cuts and swelling on his body she didn’t understand.
“Have you been ill?”
“You’ve no idea how much I cherish the concern in your sweet voice.” He held her hand against his cheek and kissed her palm. “How have you been?”
“Missing you and mad at myself for it.”
“Really?”
She cocked her brow at him. “You delight at the fact that I’ve been angry at myself?”
“No. Never. You should never be cross with yourself. Did you really miss me?”
“Of course.”
He kissed her hand again. “A pittance compared to how much I’ve ached for you, I promise.”
“Doubtful.”
“Truth.”
And still he was shaking uncontrollably. “Why do you tremble so?”
“Your beauty. It always leaves me quaking in its mighty presence.”
She scoffed, even though his flattery warmed her. “You are ever a silver-tongued master.”
“No. I am helpless before you, my lady. Always.” He knelt in front of her and placed his head to her stomach.
Even more concerned than before, Bethany held him there. “I am worried about you. I know something dreadful has happened.”
“And it was terrible, indeed. I was kept from seeing you, my precious lady.”
She rolled her eyes at his silliness. “You awful, wretched, thoughtless beast. You make me forgive you when I want to be angry at your neglect.” Smiling down at him, she brushed her hand through his soft hair.
“I will take your anger so long as it doesn’t turn to hatred. I could never live if I thought you hated me.”
“See, there it all goes. No trace of anger inside me now. Damn you, Hector. You stink!”
He pressed her hand to his face so that she could feel his smile. “How I’ve missed you cursing me.”
“And how I’ve missed loving you, you aggravating man.” She lifted his hand to her heart so that he could feel it beating for him. “Against everything I’ve tried to do to prevent it, you have crawled into a part of me where only you can do me harm. Do you understand, Hector? And I am a vengeful woman whose wrath is unimaginable. Do not make me turn that against you. For both our sakes.”
“So long as there is breath inside me, I will never do anything to intentionally harm you, Beth.” He rose to his feet and gave her the sweetest kiss she’d ever known. “I unfortunately have to travel for the next few weeks. But I will be back here as soon as I return. I swear it.”
“You better.”
He pulled her into his arms and breathed her in. “One day, I shall tell you what happened. But for now…” He kissed her. “I will be counting down the heartbeats until I see you again.”
Bethany held him to her and let the innocence of his kiss breathe life into her. “I miss you already.”
“Not as much as I miss you.”
Styxx forced himself to let her go and turn back toward his horse. He took a moment to watch her pick up her basket and pole, and wondered if she’d still love him if she knew what he’d done. How ruthless he’d been to his own uncle.
She deserved so much better than him. He couldn’t fathom why she loved him when no one else did.
Please don’t ever hate me, Bethany.
There would truly be no worse torturous hell.
September 26, 9532 BC
Styxx hung back as his father and Ryssa approached his uncle’s Atlantean home. Unwanted memories brutalized him as he remembered what had happened to him the last time he was here. And still the most agonizing were the memories he didn’t have. He’d never know exactly everything that had been done to him.
I wish we could burn it to the ground.…
Nothing about the abysmal place had changed. It was just as Styxx remembered it. Right down to every horrid stone.
Lenas, his uncle’s manservant, opened the door to stare at them.
His father stiffened at the servant’s insolence. “I’ve come to collect Acheron. Show me to him.”
Lenas opened the door wider to admit them. He raked a heated stare over Styxx’s body.
They do look alike … amazing. I wonder if he’s as good in bed.
Styxx cringed. Estes hadn’t just shared Acheron with his friends and patrons, but also his staff. As they headed down the hallway, strange images flashed in his mind.
Were they memories?
They came and went so fast that he couldn’t be sure what his mind wanted him to see or know.
Trying to push those thoughts aside, Styxx slowed as they neared a room where the sounds were all too familiar. Lenas gave him a knowing stare before he opened the door of the bedroom where Acheron was working with two patrons.
“What in the name of Hades is this?” his father roared.
Eyes wide with horror, Ryssa covered her mouth and turned away.
Styxx couldn’t breathe at the sight that greeted them. Completely naked, Acheron was buried between a woman’s legs while a man took full advantage of Acheron’s squatting position for his own pleasure.
The man pulled back from Acheron with a feral curse. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded with an equally imperious air. “How dare you interrupt us!”
There was a tone his father wasn’t going to appreciate, and Styxx was extremely glad he wasn’t the fool who’d used it.
Acheron gave one last playful lick to the woman’s body before he rolled over onto his back. He lay unabashedly naked on the bed, smirking.
“Prince Ydorus,” Acheron said to the angry man addressing their father. “Meet King Xerxes of Didymos.”
That took some of the bluster out of the prince, but not much.
“Leave us,” their father demanded.
Offended, the prince gathered his clothes and companion and did as the king commanded.
Wise move, buddy.
With a sickly gray cast to his skin that Styxx was all too familiar with, Acheron wiped his mouth on the sheet. His features gaunt, he wore those damned gold bands on his neck, arms, wrists, and ankles.
Licking his lips suggestively, Acheron intentionally flashed the erotiki sfairi that lined his tongue. Styxx gave his brother credit for that stupidity. Especially when Acheron lay back on his bent elbows and spread his legs wide to their father to ram home what he was.
“So what brings you here, Majesty?” Acheron asked, his tone mocking and cold. “Do you wish to spend time with me, too?”
Styxx flinched at an angry, defiant offer he knew went through his father like a sword. Acheron had no idea what he was setting into motion, but Styxx did. He just didn’t know how to stop it.
Worse, were the memories of the times he’d been where Acheron was. All too well he understood that hatred and rage that wanted to lash out and throw into his father’s face what Estes had made them do. To make the king deal with the reality that had been forced onto them against their wills. Acheron’s volatile emotions set his own on edge and left him raw and emotionally bleeding.
“Get up,” their father snarled. “Cover yourself.”
One corner of Acheron’s mouth quirked into a mocking expression. He bent his knees and assumed a sexually inviting position Styxx was glad Ryssa couldn’t see. “Why? People pay five hundred gold pieces an hour to see me naked. You should be honored you get to look for free.”
Brother, stop!
But Styxx couldn’t get the words out as forgotten details slammed into him. Suddenly, he remembered being in this room.
With Acheron and without.
“Four thousand solas for the first crack at them! Who wants to taste Greek divinity and royalty?”
“How do you like that, Highness? Tell me how much you crave my cock.… Beg me for it like the little bitch you are.”
Styxx flinched as he tried to force it all away and focus. But it was impossible. He wanted to do something other than stand here and relive a horror that never should have happened to either of them.
Their father grabbed Acheron roughly by his arm and pulled him from the bed.
Acheron covered his hand with his own and tsked at him. “It’s a thousand gold pieces an hour if you want to bruise me.”
Styxx (DH #33) Page 27