For that, he was willing to forgive the bastards who’d cursed him.
Just don’t take her from me.…
That would begin an even greater war than the one he was returning from.
October 31, 9530 BC
Styxx froze as he came face-to-face with Acheron as they both left the open, public gymnasium. His brother wore a dark gray chiton and blue cloak—something that would have Acheron beaten if seen. All prostitutes were required to wear a specific red chiton whenever they were in public.
But Styxx would never tell.
He was glad Acheron looked a good deal healthier than he’d appeared the last time they’d met. And the irony that both of them were here this day, pretending to be someone they weren’t while doing the same exact thing, wasn’t lost on him.
They were twins, after all.
For a moment, he thought Acheron would speak to him.
He didn’t. Instead, he pulled his cowl down lower over his face and made his way out of the amphitheater.
A part of Styxx wanted to chase after him, but what was the use? Really? Time and bitterness divided them.
They had both said and done things to each other that were unforgivable.
And yet …
He missed his brother. Dearly. Those stolen moments of friendship when they’d played together and laughed. He would give anything if he could go back to that time when the world hadn’t been quite so cold and harsh. Back to when he hadn’t been what he was now.
Although, anymore, he wasn’t quite sure what he was.
Other than lost.
His soldiers treated him like some mythical hero. His father and the senate like some overindulged brat who should be spanked. His sister like he was a demon sent to torment her. And in his heart, he knew he was a killer.…
And a whore.
Like his brother.
Only Bethany made him feel noble and cherished. But that would change instantly if she ever learned the truth of his identity or what Apollo had forced on him against his will. Then she would hate him forever for the lie he’d told her to protect himself.
Galen alone treated him like a son. But he hadn’t seen his old mentor since their return. Before Galen had even dismounted, Styxx had sent him on to be with his family—had ordered him to take at least three months with them before he even considered returning to town.
Honestly, Styxx envied Galen’s daughter and grandchildren. He hoped they knew what a rare gift it was to be cherished by Galen the way they were, and that they never took the old man’s love for granted.
“Highness?”
Styxx paused as he heard a familiar voice. Frowning, he turned to see Dorus in the crowd.
The nobleman headed straight for him and gave a curt bow. Dorus glanced around as if seeking Styxx’s ever-present guards, but said nothing when he didn’t find them at their usual post. Having grown tired of his every belch being reported to his father while their thoughts insulted everything about him, Styxx had slipped out of the palace to be alone for awhile.
“I haven’t seen you since your return, Highness. Welcome home.”
“Thank you, Dorus.”
“I’ve heard great things of your victories. My father said that you were headed for the Atlantean mainland when you were recalled.”
“We were.”
“It must have been incredible to fight so many victorious battles. Exciting.”
More like bloody and terrifying. Haunting. Grueling. A thousand adjectives came to his mind, none of them good.
But Dorus didn’t want to hear the truth any more than Styxx wanted to remember it. “I heard they elected you to the senate. Congratulations.”
“They did. At one-and-twenty, I’m one of the youngest members.”
Styxx felt so disconnected from Dorus and the other noblemen his age. Unlike the king, their fathers wouldn’t send them to war for at least two more years. For that matter, all his experiences were so radically different from theirs and from what they believed his to be that it was hard to converse with any of them.
But at least Dorus tried. Best of all, Styxx never heard his thoughts. And for that, he was eternally grateful.
Dorus, Galen, and Bethany were the only ones who didn’t bombard him whenever they were around. Every once in a while, he might overhear something, but overall, their thoughts were blissfully hidden and silent.
“Did you know there’s a new brothel that opened near Catera’s? They have some of the most exotic beauties they’ve imported.…”
Forcing himself not to grimace at something he found utterly revolting, Styxx held his hand up. “I’m not interested.”
Dorus laughed. “I understand. A prince never has to pay for sex. I imagine any woman is yours for the taking.”
Yeah …
If only I lived the life everyone thought I did.… He might actually be happy.
Unable to stomach any more of this conversation, Styxx inclined his head. “Pardon me, Dorus, I have an appointment to keep. I hope you don’t mind.”
As Styxx started past him, he felt a strange sensation over his skin.
One he’d only felt on the battlefield … like something powerful was watching him. Slowing down, he glanced around for the source of it. But nothing was there.
Putting it out of his mind, he headed back to the palace.
* * *
“What are you doing with Styxx?”
Apollo glanced up from the lyre he was tuning to see Athena in his temple, heading straight for him with more venom than a cobra nest. “I haven’t seen the irritable bitch, why?”
“Not the goddess, you moron. The prince of Didymos.”
Apollo strummed a note. “Ever wonder what his father was thinking when he allowed you to name his son for the River of Hatred? For a Titan bitch so cruel that none of us will even consider crossing her?”
“What has this to do with anything?”
He shrugged. “I thought we were talking about things that don’t matter.”
With her hands on her hips, Athena stopped in front of him. “I’m serious, Apollo. He is my champion. Why are you—”
“Fucking him?”
Athena snatched the lyre from his hands and had to grip it hard to keep from bashing him against the head with it. “Don’t push me, brother. I’m not that fond of you, and unlike your twin sister, I don’t fear you.”
“What I do or don’t do with the prince is no concern of yours. Why do you care anyway?”
Because I can’t stand what was done to an innocent boy who should have been coddled and loved. Not cast into the harsh existence he has because you and your Atlantean conspirators screwed with his life.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t say that. “There are plenty of mortals for you to pick from. Leave mine alone.”
“Jealous?”
“He is a loyal follower of mine and you are single-handedly turning him against all of us.”
Apollo leaned back against his chaise. “I have him well in hand.”
She winced at his cruel double entendre.
“No need in you concerning yourself with our relationship, dear sister.”
Athena ground her teeth in anger. “I don’t understand why you can’t leave him alone when it’s obvious he can’t stand you.”
“Cast off your virgin robes,” Apollo said with a sadistic twist to his lips, “and you’ll understand it fast. He is a very sweet piece of ass.”
She curled her lip. “You sicken me.”
He mocked her words. “And you bore me. Now hand me my instrument and begone.”
Athena wanted to shove it where the “sun” didn’t shine. But it wouldn’t do any good. Apollo was a prick. “For a god of prophecy, you’re a complete and utter idiot. Can you not see what you’re about to do to him if you don’t let him be?”
“You wanted him strong.”
She growled at her idiot brother. “Not like this, I didn’t. And you are to leave him alone, Apollo. I mean it!” Glaring at him one last time
, she turned and stormed from his temple.
Apollo shook his head and laughed. “Had you not threatened me, I might have turned my eyes to another. But … sweet Athena, no one threatens me. And they damn sure don’t do it over a piece of human trash.”
January 18, 9529 BC
Styxx rubbed at his aching head as he and his father went to meet with the senators and emissaries to discuss the Atlantean truce. That alone would be reason enough to make his brain hurt, but Ryssa trailed them, whining over the fact that her beloved father was offering her up as a sacrificial goat. The selfish shrew had no concept of what real humiliation felt like.
“Father, please…”
Damn, if they could harness the sound of her noxious whine, they’d have one hell of a battle weapon to unleash against their enemies.
“Enough, Ryssa.” Finally, the old bastard cut her off. “The decision is made. You are to be offered to Apollo. We need him on our side if we’re to ever win this war against the Atlanteans. So long as he continues to favor and aid them, we will never stand a chance. If you are his lover, he will look more kindly toward our people and might be swayed to our cause.”
“It’s not fair!”
Because life was ever about fairness.
Oh, to be as naive as his sister.
Just as they approached the atrium, their conversation was interrupted by the voices of the senators who were waiting for them on the other side of the wall.
“He looks just like Styxx.”
Styxx froze instantly as his stomach knotted. Obviously, some of the senators had discovered Acheron at Catera’s brothel.
This can’t be good.
The one who’d spoken, Senator Barax, had been a longtime friend to his father and one of his top advisors.
His father paused by his side as Ryssa smirked at Styxx. She was absolutely gloating.
“What say you?” Krontes asked. He, too, was a friend and advisor to the king.
Barax laughed deep in his throat. “It’s true. They couldn’t look more alike had they been born twins. The only difference is their eye color.”
Even though Acheron had been gone for a decade, how could they not remember his brother? That thought angered him even more than their topic.
“His eyes are eerie,” Senator Peles, his father’s oldest friend, joined in. “You can tell he’s the son of some god, but he won’t say which one.”
“And he’s in a stew, you say?” Krontes asked.
“Yes,” Peles said. “I’m telling you, Krontes, you have to visit him. Pretending he’s Styxx has helped me immensely in dealing with the royal prick. Spend an hour with Acheron on his knees and the next time you see Styxx, you’ll have a whole new perspective.”
They laughed.
“You should have been at our banquet last night,” Barax continued. “We dressed him in royal robes and passed him around like a bitch in heat.”
Styxx’s stomach heaved as fear, rage, and hatred rose to choke him. While the three of them must not have bought him from Estes, Styxx knew there were members of the senate who had.
Members he was sure had passed around the same stories about having ridden the royal stallion.
Styxx wanted to die where he stood.
Snarling in rage, his father charged around the wall to have them arrested for defaming his heir. What would he say if he knew Styxx had been as debased by members of his senate as Acheron had?
Ryssa raked him with a sneer. “It should have been you they used instead of Acheron. You deserve it.”
He glared at her. “I hope you think of that curse when Apollo violates your precious loins, sister.”
She slapped him then stormed away.
Closing his eyes, Styxx leaned against the wall and struggled with the agony inside his heart. Not just for himself, but for Acheron who was still being bought and sold.
He felt his father’s presence and opened his eyes to find him standing by his side. “This. Ends.”
Ends how?
Other than badly for all of them.
“What do you intend to do, Father?”
“What I should have done to begin with.” He turned to leave.
Styxx stopped him. “Father? What are you planning?”
“To have that bastard arrested and put in a place where he can’t shame me.”
Prison.
Styxx shook his head at the thought of Acheron suffering like that. But his father would reject any plea based on compassion. So he used something he knew his father would care about.
The king’s ego.
“You can’t. Instead of having senators bragging about tupping your heir, you’ll have commoners doing it. Is that what you want?”
His father glowered at him.
“Bring Acheron home, Father. It’s time.”
“You sound like a methusai.”
I’d rather be an old woman than a heartless bastard.
Styxx wanted to argue, but he knew that expression. His father had made his mind up about the matter and no amount of logic would be heard at this point.
As always, he’d have to find some way to deal with the aftermath of his father’s lunatic hatred and try his best to modify whatever actions the king took, while trying to keep his own ass out of the line of fire.
January 20, 9529 BC
Styxx reined his horse to a stop as he held Bethany in his lap. Leaning down to bury his face against the nape of her neck, he inhaled the sweet eucalyptus scent of her lotion and smiled. Her scent made him rock hard and caused his head to spin even more than the drugs Estes had once used on him.
She placed her hand to his cheek. “Are we here?”
He squeezed her gently. “We are, love. I’d tell you to close your eyes, but…”
She leaned back against his shoulder and kissed his clean-shaven cheek. Since she didn’t care for his beard as it interfered with her ability to feel his expressions, he’d bid it adieu. “You’re not funny.”
“And yet you tell me you love my humor. What is wrong with you, woman?”
“The very fact I’m in love with you. It rather says it all.”
He laughed at her gentle teasing then dismounted. Placing his hands at her waist, he pulled her down to stand beside him. A large dog started barking ferociously.
She frowned at the sound. “Where are we?”
“Were you not paying attention to my directions from the stream?”
“I was, and I know where we are, but not where we are. Or why we’re here.”
He left his horse to graze and took her hand to lead her. “We are someplace very special.”
“And that would be?”
He placed her hand against the wooden door of the small stone cottage.
Her scowl deepened as the dog barked even louder. “What is this?”
“Shush, skylos!” he said to the dog then he gentled his tone to speak to Bethany. “I bought this for you. It’s a place for you to escape to whenever the weather is bad.”
She went rigid. “Hector—”
“Beth, there are no strings attached to it at all.” He put both her hands on his face so that she could feel how sincere he was. “It’s yours, plain and simple. You can keep your things here and not have to tote them anymore. It has a large lake that’s just down the hill, fully stocked with fish. I made sure before I bought it.”
“I don’t understand…”
He kissed her palms as terror rode him with spurs. Since he’d come home, he’d been tortured with images of someone hurting her. Of another man stumbling upon her spot and not being wounded as he’d been when he first found her there. Or worse, Apollo harming her to get back at him. “I know you have your knife, but I worry about you when I’m not with you. Constantly. I’d feel better if you had a safer place to be alone.”
Bethany smiled as tears welled in her eyes at his thoughtful kindness. Even so, she couldn’t help teasing him. “I believe you were thinking of yourself more than me. You won’t have to worry about
grass burns on your knees or random, randy limbs in your backside.”
He laughed. “You know me so well. But I must admit that I’ll be missing those intimate moments with the tree. I think after my last encounter with its branches we might be married … at the very least betrothed.”
She groaned at his twisted sense of humor as he opened the door. The moment he did, a huge dog mauled her.
“Down!” Hector snapped, pulling him away. “Beth, meet … skylos. He hasn’t been named yet. But he’s the size of a horse and is here to also keep you safe. I have a woman who’ll come to feed him every morning for you. Or you can take him with you when you go home … which I’d prefer. I’d rather you have a protector at all times.”
She heard the fear underlying his tone. He really was afraid for her. Leaning down, she stroked the dog’s ears as he licked her face. “What color is he?”
“Black.”
“Hey there, boy.” She kissed his furry head. “I think I shall call you … Dynatos.”
“Dynatos it is,” Hector agreed then he took her inside and gently led her around so that she could find where everything was placed and not get hurt.
The front door opened into a room with a table, two chairs, and a place to cook and prepare food. There was a room off to the right with a bed, chest, and two more chairs set before a fire.
Though tiny, it was very cozy.
Still … “I can’t take this from you, Hector. It’s too much.”
“Yes, you can. I want you to have it.”
“Hector—”
“Beth…” He pulled her back against his front and nuzzled her neck. “Please take it and give me some peace of mind about your safety.”
He so often broke her heart. Whatever had happened to him at war had really damaged a part of him. While her safety had always concerned him before, he was now obsessed with it. He was forever teaching her new ways to disarm an attacker—not that she needed his tricks, but she couldn’t tell him that. Whenever he fell asleep, he had ferocious nightmares that caused him to wake up frantic and angry.
Even now, he trembled in her arms.
Offering him a grateful smile, she kissed his cheek. “All right, Hector. Thank you.”
Styxx closed his eyes as he held her and just let the scent of her skin soothe him. There was nothing in this world he valued above her. Nothing he wouldn’t do to make her happy or keep her safe.
Styxx (DH #33) Page 38