Fifteen hundred to make him bleed … Styxx flinched as he called Estes’s price list.
The king backhanded Acheron so hard, he fell to the floor and sprawled naked onto his back.
Styxx gasped as pain exploded in his own skull. It was so harsh a blow that for a few seconds, he couldn’t see straight.
Laughing, Acheron licked the blood from his lips before he wiped it away on the back of his branded hand. “It’s fifteen hundred to make me bleed.”
Styxx backed away as Acheron validated his earlier memory.
His father curled his lips. “You’re disgusting.”
Styxx’s stomach heaved. That was what his father would think of him, too, if he ever learned that he’d worn the same bracelets as Acheron. He saw himself bleeding on the floor, not his brother. This was exactly what would happen to him if his father ever found out he’d been sold.
If he ever saw the brand Styxx carried next to his cock.
And if he ever learned Styxx had murdered his uncle …
His father would gut him himself. Just as his mother had done him.
With a wry grin, Acheron rolled to his side and pushed himself up from the floor. “Careful, Father, you might actually hurt my feelings.” He walked around their father like a proud, stalking lion, looking him up and down. “Oh wait, I forgot. Whores don’t have feelings. We have no dignity for you to offend.”
“I am not your father.”
Styxx winced at the severity of his father’s condemnation against his twin brother and he remembered how tortured and conflicted his father had been when he cut Styxx’s arm open.
“Yes, I know the story well. It was beaten into me years ago. You’re not my father and Estes isn’t my uncle. It saves his reputation if everyone thinks I’m some poor waif he found on the streets and gave shelter to. It’s fine to sell a homeless beggar, a worthless bastard. But the aristocracy frowns on those who sell their blood relatives.”
How Styxx wished that was true.
Their father backhanded him again.
Styxx wiped away the blood on his face before anyone saw it. But his father and Ryssa were too intent on Acheron to pay his condition any heed. Thank the gods for that one small mercy.
Acheron laughed, unfazed by the fact that his nose was now bleeding, along with his lips. “If you really want to hurt me, I’ll ring for the whips. But if you continue to strike my face, you’ll make Estes unbelievably angry. He doesn’t like for anyone to mar my beauty.”
“Estes is dead!” their father roared.
Styxx cringed at the unadulterated rage in those words.
Acheron froze in place then blinked as if he couldn’t believe what he’d heard. “Estes is dead?” he repeated hollowly.
The king sneered at him. “Yes. Were that it were you in his place.”
Acheron took a deep breath and the relief in his eyes was tangible. His thoughts rang in Styxx’s head. It’s over. It’s finally over. The twisted bastard’s dead and I’m free.…
For the first time, Acheron met his gaze. Styxx saw his own shame, self-loathing, and absolute relief mirrored in those swirling silver eyes that were set in an identical face.
And while they were free of Estes’s future acts, nothing would ever erase those done to them in the past.
I know, brother. And I’m so sorry.
Acheron’s relief made their father furious.
“How dare you have no tears for him. He sheltered and protected you.”
Scoffing, Acheron turned his dry gaze toward the king. “Believe me, I’ve paid him well for his shelter and concern. Every night when he took me to his bed. Every day when he sold me to whomever paid his price.”
“You lie!”
Those words slashed across Styxx and stole his breath, and left him gaping in disbelief. You fucking piece of shit! How could you deny what is right in front of you? How could he call Acheron a liar when he bore witness to it?
In that moment, for the first time, Styxx was truly glad he’d killed Estes. His only regret was that it hadn’t been more violent and painful an end.
Acheron glared at the king. “I’m a whore, Father, not a liar.”
With a bellow born of grief, fury, and hatred, the king attacked his brother. He beat and kicked furiously at Acheron, who didn’t bother to fight back or protect himself in any way.
Styxx struggled to breathe under the ferocity of his father’s assault as his own body reacted to every blow. It was all he could do to remain standing. If he didn’t do something fast, they were all going to learn the truth of the twins.
Gods help them both if that happened.
Racked in agony, he pulled his father away from his brother. “Please, Father,” he said between gritted teeth as he struggled not to show his own pain. “Calm down. The last thing you need is to tax your heart. I don’t want to see you die as Estes did.”
As expected, the reminder that Estes had been younger and had died of a supposed seizure in his sleep calmed his father and gave Styxx a chance to suppress the damage his father had done to him. He wiped the blood from his face again while his father glared down at his twin.
Ryssa had gone to Acheron’s side.
“Don’t,” Acheron said, pushing her away. He spat the blood from his mouth to the floor where it landed in a stark red splatter.
“Get out,” their father snarled at him. “I don’t ever want to see you again.”
Those words hit Styxx even harder than his fists had.
Acheron laughed at that and met Styxx’s gaze without flinching. “Rather difficult, isn’t it?”
The king started for him, but Styxx put himself between them. He had to get them apart and sort through this.
Somehow.
“Guards,” he called, wanting them to pull his brother to safety until their father calmed.
They appeared instantly.
Acheron glared at Styxx with a hatred that was palatable. I know you hear me inside your head, brother. Just like you always did when we were children, and I want you to see how much your precious father really loves you that he could throw us out so easily.
Tell me truthfully, Styxx, do you suck and lick Father’s cock and balls at night? You must choke on his testicles and suck him hard and dry for him to be able to love you so and deny me.
Rage, dark and deadly, blinded him as Acheron’s vicious thoughts hit him hard. How dare Acheron throw that in his face when Acheron knew exactly how much it hurt! It was beyond cruel. Even harsher was the memory he had of Acheron oiling Styxx’s body and prepping him for the men Estes sold him to.
Welcome to my world, brother.…
There had been no remorse in Acheron over what had been done to Styxx, not even when Acheron had seen Styxx’s horrendous scars left by the priests. His brother had mocked those, too.
Next time you should let the brands cool before you masturbate with them.
In that moment, Styxx wanted to kill his own brother. Twin or not.
Instead, Styxx jerked his chin toward Acheron. “Put this trash on the street where it belongs.”
Acheron pushed himself to his feet. “I don’t need their help. I can walk out the door on my own.”
Styxx glared at him with the same hatred Acheron had for him. And you better while you’re still able.
Ryssa shook her head. “You need clothes and money.”
Their father curled his lip. “He deserves nothing. Nothing but our scorn.”
Acheron’s battered face was completely stoic. “Then I am rich indeed from the abundance of that which you’ve shown me.” In all his naked glory, he sauntered to the door then paused to smirk one last time. “You know, it took me a long time to realize why you hate me so much, Majesty.” Acheron locked gazes with Styxx. “But then it’s not me you really hate, is it? What you truly hate is how badly you want to fuck your own son.”
Their father bellowed in anger as the brutality of his words tore across Styxx’s heart. In that moment, Styxx knew the full d
epth of his uncle’s depravity. He had driven a permanent wedge between him and Acheron.
One that nothing would heal after this. Styxx would never forget this slap in the face.
And neither would Acheron.
With his head held high, Acheron left the room.
Ryssa raked them both with the full weight of her condemnation. “How could you? I told you what Estes was doing with him and you denied it. How can you blame him for this?”
Their father shook his head. “Estes didn’t do this. Acheron did it himself. Estes told me the way he parades himself and flaunts his body. The way he tempts everyone. He’s a destroyer just as they said at his birth. He will not rest until he ruins every person he’s around.”
“He’s just a confused boy, Father. He needs a family.”
Her words cut straight through Styxx. And what am I, dear sister? She was every bit as blind and self-absorbed as their father. How could she see Acheron so clearly and him not at all?
But then given the harsh brutality of his brother’s parting comments, he knew his brother was as far from innocent in thought as he was in action.
In that one moment, Styxx hated all of them. His father. His mother. Ryssa and Acheron.
But most of all, he hated himself.
September 27, 9532 BC
“You repulse me, Styxx! What kind of man, and I use that term loosely, could just sit here and let his own twin brother be cast into the world alone? Without coin or clothing? Acheron’s not the monster, you are! I wish you’d been the one Uncle sold. It should have been you all these years who was forced to be a whore handed over to anyone with enough coin! But no, you sit here in selfish comfort while your brother is cast adrift and say nothing! Nothing! I hate you, Styxx. I hope one day you suffer for all you’ve done!”
Styxx ignored Ryssa’s shrill tone as she railed against him and called down the wrath of every god on Olympus to punish him. She’d been doing it steadily since she returned from seeing Acheron off.
Even without her insults, his own emotions were in turmoil. There was no longer any doubt how his father would react should he ever learn that his heir had been whored, too.
He’s a repulsive catamite. He knew Estes’s preference and he used it to his advantage. Think you, I don’t know how that sick monster’s mind works? None of this was Estes’s fault. He was victimized by Acheron. I’ll bet the bastard crawled into his bed and begged him for it.
Like Ryssa was doing right now against Styxx, their father had ranted throughout the night against Acheron. Styxx had no peace from either of them. And neither had a clue that every time they spoke, a part of him died more.
Really, he just wanted to run away from it all.
But one look at the strangers who eyed him hungrily until they learned of his regal title kept him close to his father’s side. And while he knew Acheron was hungry, he knew his brother wasn’t being molested or beaten.
At least not yet.
Why couldn’t you have gone away with me when I tried to free you, Acheron?
Just once?
But then he wouldn’t have met his Bethany and …
“Shit!” Styxx cursed as Ryssa kicked him hard in the shin.
“You’re not even listening to me, are you, you little pig!”
“I hear every precious word that falls from your dainty lips, sweet sister.”
She kicked him again.
Hissing, he glared at her and moved his legs so that she couldn’t reach them. Thank the gods she wasn’t any taller.
“Why am I stuck with you as my brother?”
Styxx didn’t respond as they reached the docks and he descended from the wheeled litter. He reached up to help her down. She spat in his face and ignored his hand.
Grinding his teeth, he wiped his cheek.
As they neared the ramp, she turned on him with a vicious sneer. “I wish they’d drag you belowdecks and rape you the whole way home like they did poor Acheron when I tried to help him.”
That explained those pains …
“And had you not been so stupid, Ryssa, that wouldn’t have happened. What kind of moron attempts to take a marked slave onto a passenger ship? You’re far too old to be so puerile.”
She slapped him before turning in a huff and leaving him to trail in her wake.
His father clapped him on the back as he reached him. “I know she plagues you, boy, but you have to admire and respect her spirit.”
Ah … Ryssa’s disrespect was cute and spirited, while Styxx’s was never to be tolerated.
Scowling in distaste, Styxx stopped as his father continued on. He’d never understand his father’s complicated and arbitrary double standards. And honestly, he was tired of trying.
At the top of the deck, Styxx stopped and looked back at Atlantis. In spite of it all, he wished his brother well and he hoped Acheron made it to Greece before the pending war broke out.
But regardless …
“May the gods grant you peace somewhere, little brother.”
Glancing over to Ryssa, who eyed him like he was filth, he sighed knowing the gods had no intention of granting any to him.
October 6, 9532 BC
Styxx reined Troian to a stop as he caught sight of Bethany at their spot. In spite of the day’s warmth, she was covered from neck to ankle in a peculiar white garment that obscured every part of her. Yet as she moved, he heard light jingling bells. She’d placed flowers on the blanket along with a small drum. Her sandals were left to the side of it, near a jug of wine and a small platter of cheese and crisp, flat bread.
Baffled and curious, he slid from his mount and left his horse to graze. “Beth?”
A beautiful, welcoming smile curved her lips as she turned in his direction. “Hector?”
“I’m right here, love.” He dropped his saddlebag next to the blanket and touched her lightly on the shoulder.
Rising up on her tiptoes, she placed a chaste kiss to his lips. Her scent hit him and made his body instantly hard as his senses reeled from her gentle ways, and warm reception.
“Where’s your pole?” he asked. She normally kept it near the pond.
A teasing light made her eyes sparkle as she reached down to stroke his hard cock. “Right here, it seems.”
He arched a brow at that. As always whenever she touched him, he couldn’t quite think straight.
She stepped back. “I thought today we’d do something a little different.”
“Whatever my lady wishes.”
She bit her lip seductively. “Can you play any instruments?”
“Sadly, no. My father thinks they’re a complete waste of time and boorish. Why?”
She sank down to the blanket and pulled him to sit beside her. “The why is a surprise.” She reached for the drum then placed it in his lap. Taking his hands into hers, she showed him how to keep a basic rhythm.
He felt odd and self-conscious with the small round drum as he waited for her to criticize his efforts. As a boy, he’d tried to play a flute, lyre, and drum, and had seen each burned in turn by his father, sister, or mother, who quickly told him he was inept and stupid for even attempting that which the gods had given him absolutely no talent for.
But Bethany didn’t say a word. She merely smiled and kissed him then rose to her feet.
“Don’t stop,” she said when he slowed his pace.
Styxx returned to what she’d taught him. Frowning, he watched as she pulled finger cymbals from her basket and slid them onto her hand. Next, she pulled out a sistrum. Before he could ask what she intended, she loosened the ribbon at her neck and dropped her outer garment to the ground.
His throat suddenly dry, Styxx froze at the sight of her in a very sheer white outfit the likes of which he’d never seen. The small top was heavily beaded with pearls and shiny silver disks. It cupped her full breasts and lifted them high, and left the swell of them exposed for his hungry gaze. The top stopped just below her breasts and left her abdomen completely bare. Not that it matte
red. The material was so sheer that he could easily see the full outline of her breasts and puckered nipples that made him hunger for a quick taste. Three rows of pearls fell from the middle of the top to brush against the perfection of her belly where she’d painted Egyptian symbols for the goddess Hathor.
Silver armbands encircled her biceps. Two rows of tiny bells secured to them and the hem of her skirt were what made the jingling sound he’d heard on his arrival. She wore additional bells as anklets.
Her wide, full skirt had slits at each side that went all the way up to the thick beaded silver belt that had numerous white veils fastened to it. Like the top, it was sheer enough that he could see the full outline of her body and the dark hair at the juncture of her thighs.
“You stopped playing, my lord.”
He wanted to say something witty in response, but his brain seemed to have stopped completely. His jaw worked, yet no sound came out as her beauty left him completely senseless. Thank the gods she couldn’t see what an idiot he was. Otherwise, she’d be running as far from him as she could. He wasn’t all that sure he hadn’t drooled on himself.
“Hector? Are you still with me?”
“I’m here, my lady. Just completely overwhelmed by the magnitude of your grace. Your beauty has rendered me quite useless for the moment.”
She smiled at him. “Keep playing, my love. I have a treat for you.”
“I can’t imagine anything sweeter than what I’m already savoring.”
“Keep playing.”
He wasn’t sure how he managed it, but he obeyed. And as he did so, she began what had to be the most erotic dance he’d ever seen in his life. With every graceful move of her arm or swaying of her hips, her bells, cymbals, and sistrum rang and his body sizzled. He’d never seen anything like it. If this was how the Egyptians trained their daughters, he wondered how any of them managed to leave their bedchambers. No wonder they had such large families.…
As she danced, she freed her veils. Her hips and shoulders moving in perfect synchronicity, she sank down by his side and continued to undulate in time to the music they made. He was completely captivated.
Styxx (DH #33) Page 28