As had their father and mother.
And now his precious Bethany.
But this wasn’t about his pain. He could drink himself stupid later, as he’d been doing for days. Right now, his brother needed him.
“Acheron—”
Faster than even Styxx could react, his brother spun on him and caught his throat in a fist so tight it was crushing. Acheron rolled with him and pinned him to the ground with a strength that was startling and unimaginable.
“Acheron,” he coughed and wheezed, trying to dislodge his brother’s iron grip from his throat that reminded him of how Apollo often did him.
And as he stared up at his brother, Acheron’s eyes turned to a bright, burning bloodred. His hair darkened as his skin became a marbled blue. His lips turned black.
“You say you know my pain,” Acheron snarled, showing a set of fangs that caused Styxx’s anger to mount as he involuntarily felt Apollo biting him in places that made his stomach heave. “You know nothing of my pain. No one has ever defiled you, prince. Never held you down and made you beg for a cock you’d rather be dead than taste or feel.”
Rage and pain darkened Styxx’s sight at those words. Worse, he heard what Acheron had said to him in Atlantis.
“Tell me how it feels to have your royal hole stuffed tight, Highness. Just wait till they flip you over, it gets even better.
“Welcome to my pain, brother.…”
Acheron’s mocking laughter as others raped him rang in his head.
Roaring, Styxx punched Acheron’s blue arm as hard as he could, breaking his hold. Styxx cried out as his own arm hurt. But he didn’t care. Too many memories of his own were mixing with his brother’s.
And they were all brutal.
He kicked Acheron’s demonic form back and rolled to his feet. Terror filled him as he saw Acheron return to a human appearance. His brother lay on his side now, panting and weak.
“What are we?” Styxx breathed.
Acheron’s eyes were still red. “Damned.” Then he started laughing hysterically.
Shaken and terrified by all that had happened, Styxx left him there and headed for his own room. He looked down at his hands and turned them over. Would his skin become blue, too? Would his eyes and lips do that?
Did Ryssa know about Acheron’s alternate form? Was that why she was so protective of him?
And as he leaned against his bedroom door to block it, he could just imagine what their father would do if he ever saw that.
They would both be confined to the Dionysion.
Forever.
Raking his hands through his hair, Styxx felt some of his sanity slip at the mere thought of returning to that nightmare.
And this time there would be no Estes to intervene.
Because I killed him.
January 28, 9528 BC
Completely drunk and high on Atlantean herbs, Styxx sat in the banquet hall with his father, Apollo, and his sister as the night wore on interminably. He feigned laughter, even though he wasn’t really sure what Apollo had said. Not that it mattered. Apollo wasn’t here for conversation, he merely wanted them to fawn over him, and since Styxx was used to being ignored, he followed his father’s cues.
And drank heavily.
So much so, that he’d passed extremely drunk probably a good day ago. How he was still conscious, he wasn’t sure. At this point, he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been sober.
Which was good. Because whenever he sobered, his mind went to places he wanted to avoid. And focused on the fact that Bethany, like everyone else in his life, had abandoned him.
His head spinning, Styxx held his red clay kylix out for a servant to refill. He sat on Apollo’s left while Ryssa sat on the right and his father on the other side of his sister, which was how Apollo had wanted it.
This way, the god could lean across Ryssa to speak to the king while he covertly fondled Styxx out of their sight. Although Styxx had finally found a way to deal with it. Every time Apollo groped him, he drank another cupful.
It was becoming quite a game and making him all the drunker, all the faster.
“Is that not right, Styxx?”
Frowning, he blinked at Apollo. “What?”
Apollo laughed then picked up a slice of cheese. “I fear we’re boring your heir, Xerxes.” He took a bite of it.
“Styxx? Where’s your head, boy? Pay attention! You’re with a god! Give him his due.”
Styxx lifted his cup to hide the snarl of his lips over his father’s comment.
Smirking in satisfaction that he had the king’s blessing for their twisted relationship, Apollo held the cheese out to Styxx for him to finish off.
He hated this game. If they were alone, he’d knock Apollo’s hand aside, but the god knew he didn’t dare do that in front of his father. Cringing, Styxx opened his mouth and let Apollo place the cheese on his tongue.
Apollo caressed Styxx’s chin. “My compliments to you, Xerxes. You made two beautiful children.”
Styxx jerked as Apollo’s hand drifted a little too far south on his body while Apollo kissed Ryssa’s cheek.
“Excuse me,” Ryssa said. “I’ll be right back.”
Styxx watched as she went to meet Hestia off in a corner. While his father was distracted by her actions, Apollo took Styxx’s hand and led it to his hard cock.
Grimacing, Styxx snatched his hand back to his own chair and glared at the Olympian who laughed as he gave Styxx a lecherous smile that promised him retribution later tonight when the god came for him.
“I know not, Your Highness.” Hestia’s loud whisper made Apollo arch his brow. “I haven’t seen him in days. I leave food and when I return it’s untouched. No one’s slept in his bed.”
“What?” His father’s roar made all of them jump. “Guards! Follow me.” He stormed out and headed in the direction of Ryssa’s rooms.
Shrieking in protest, Ryssa ran after him.
Styxx groaned as he realized his father was about to go beat the shit out of his brother. Needing to head it off, he went after them with Apollo following him while trying to shove his hand into parts of Styxx’s body he didn’t want touched.
Was Apollo trying to get caught?
But then what did Apollo care? Not like his father would hate him for it. Styxx, on the other hand, wouldn’t be so lucky. Either his father would beat him down over their twisted relationship, or box him up like a gift for the Olympian.
Either way, Styxx would be screwed.
In more ways than one.
“What’s going on?” Apollo asked in his ear, pressing his groin against Styxx’s hip.
Making a sound of disgust deep in the hollow of his throat, he moved away from Apollo. “It’s Acheron,” he said before his drunk mind could think better of it.
Apollo arched a curious brow with a speculative light in his eyes Styxx knew all too well. There’s another prince? Apollo’s thought almost sobered him. In that one heartbeat, Styxx saw his future and it was nauseating.
You know, Estes, you should bring him to Atlantis. I’d pay you a fortune for a go at him and his brother at the same time.
No, better yet, to watch the two of them have a go at each other.
Yeah, Apollo with his greed would want the full matched set.…
And his father was just sick and greedy enough to agree to it. Styxx almost threw up at the mere thought. But how could he stop it from happening?
The god’s ego.
It was the fact that Styxx was a renowned prince and Apollo had power over him that appealed to the bastard. The only way to keep Acheron out of their repugnant relationship was to make his twin appalling to the Olympian.…
Make Acheron beneath Apollo’s desire.
“He’s a worthless slave who used to be a tsoulus.” Styxx cringed as Apollo appeared intrigued and he remembered that he bore the brand that Acheron didn’t. A brand Apollo had already seen and bitten on many occasions.
“Um, unfortunately his life is
tied to mine so we have to keep him healthy. Although I feel fine so I’m sure he’s only doing this for attention. May the gods forbid we ever be allowed to forget his presence here for one single day.” Styxx clamped his mouth shut as Apollo frowned at him as if he’d lost his mind.
Fuck, what did I just say?
Did any of that even make sense?
Whether it did or not, it succeeded in causing Ryssa to give Styxx a vicious sneer.
I’ll pay for that later. But so long as he paid for it alone, it was fine by him. He just didn’t want a ménage à trois with his brother and Apollo. His ménage à deux was miserable enough.
His father threw open the doors to Acheron’s room and stormed inside with Ryssa right behind him, while Apollo returned to grabbing at Styxx.
His temper snapping, he glared at Apollo. “Stop!” he said in a fierce whisper.
Apollo flashed his fangs at him then licked his lips. “You know you’re going to pay for this later,” he whispered.
“Fine,” Styxx said under his breath.
“I told you he couldn’t be trusted.” Furious, his father turned on Ryssa, who ignored him as she ran to the balcony.
The Olympian finally left Styxx alone as he went to investigate what had everyone so distraught.
Unsure of what was about to explode all over him and Acheron, Styxx edged closer to the commotion.
Lightning flashed as rain poured down outside. Acheron sat on the balcony with his knees bent and his arms folded over them. Completely naked, he stared into space as if unaware of the rain and frigid cold. His hair was plastered to his head and at least two days’ growth of beard dusted his cheeks.
Ryssa approached him slowly while taking care to remain under the awning that shielded her from the rain. “Acheron?”
He didn’t respond. At least not verbally. But mentally, he was as far gone as Styxx was.
Styxx scowled as he tried to understand what thoughts were his and which were Acheron’s. Ironically, they overlapped, and if he didn’t know better, he’d swear his brother was heartbroken, too. That a woman had left Acheron the way Bethany had abandoned him. But that couldn’t be. Acheron didn’t have a woman.
Those are my thoughts.
Aren’t they?
Damn, I’m seriously fucked up tonight.…
Worse, Styxx’s shredded emotions were tangling with Acheron’s to a dangerous level.
Ryssa knelt beside Acheron. “Little brother?” The tenderness in her voice enraged Styxx and it made him more volatile as it brought home the fact that without Bethany, no one loved him.
Not like that.
No one ever cared when he was hurting and in pain. If he were the one on the balcony, there wasn’t one person here who would get wet to help him. No one who would ever check to see if he was all right.
Acheron turned a hate-filled glare toward her. “Leave me,” he growled.
You ungrateful kopros.…
His father had the same reaction. “Don’t you dare speak to her that way!”
Acheron met Styxx’s gaze. He raked him with a sneer. “Fuck you, you bastard.”
Something inside Styxx snapped at that. The whole family had come to check on Acheron and who had bothered to come to him these last few days while he’d been pawed and chewed on by Apollo?
No one …
Not a soul gave a single shit about him and Styxx was their “beloved” heir.
Growling low in his throat, he rushed Acheron. His brother came to his feet and ran at Styxx with the same fury.
Styxx caught him by the waist and slammed him back on the floor. Ignoring the pain it caused him, he went after Acheron with everything he had.
“I hate you!” Acheron snarled in his ear as he rolled and punched him in the jaw.
Styxx flipped him over his head and rose to his feet. He kicked Acheron in the ribs and gasped as the pain hit him, too. “You’re pathetic.”
Rolling away from him, Acheron pushed himself up. Rain dripped off both of them as they faced off with mutual disdain and hatred. As Acheron went for him again, Styxx knocked him back.
Rain ran down his face, mixing with the blood that poured from his eye, nose, and mouth. And still Acheron came at him, over and over again.
“Guards, take him,” the king ordered.
They started for Styxx, but his father cut them off and pointed to Acheron.
His brother tried to fight them, but he was too weakened by their fight. They hauled him back into his room.
Styxx wiped the blood from his own face as their father buried his hand in Acheron’s wet hair and snatched his head so that Acheron could see the full contempt of the king’s expression. “Beat him until there’s no skin left on his back. If he passes out, wake him and beat him again.”
Styxx winced at an all too familiar order. He had those same scars courtesy of his own stupidity.
Acheron laughed coldly. “I love you too, Father.”
The bastard backhanded him. “Take him out of here.”
“Father?” Apollo asked with an arch stare.
The king scoffed. “He calls me that, but he’s no son of mine. My former queen whored herself and begat that abomination.”
Tears fell down Ryssa’s face. “He’s just a boy, Father.”
The king laughed at something Styxx didn’t find particularly amusing.
Infuriated, Ryssa ran after the guards and Acheron.
Well aware of the fact that he didn’t have long before Acheron’s beating would render him screaming in pain, Styxx headed for his rooms.
The moment he entered them, Apollo appeared in front of him.
The Olympian screwed his face up at the sight of Styxx’s damaged features. “You found a way to ruin my fun tonight, didn’t you?”
“Sorry.”
“No, you’re not. But you will be.” Apollo left as quickly as he’d come.
Before he could take more than three steps, Styxx cried out as his back exploded with pain. It was so fierce that it cut through the herbs and alcohol in his system and dropped him to the floor.
Writhing in absolute agony, he couldn’t move as lash after lash tore through him. He shook all over from the cold of his wet clothes and the pain of Acheron’s punishment.
By the time it stopped, Styxx was shaking uncontrollably. His breathing labored, he crawled to his bed, but hurt too much to even attempt to rise and get into it. Instead, he reached up from the floor and pulled the blanket off then wrapped himself in it.
Tears streamed down his face as he remembered being a boy and cocooning like this whenever he was hurt and aching. Only then, he used to pretend the blanket was his mother and that she was hugging and consoling him.
As he lay there, he heard Ryssa’s muffled voice through the wall as she tended his brother. “Don’t worry, Acheron. I’ll take care of you.”
Closing his eyes, Styxx pretended that he was Acheron and that Ryssa was in here with him. But just like when he’d pretended the blanket was hugging him and all the times he’d made up friends to play with, he knew the bitter truth.
Without Bethany, he was completely alone.
And no one cared about the prince.
Not even him.
January 29, 9528 BC
While his brother and sister laughed through the walls, Styxx stared at his gaunt and bruised features as he shaved in the mirror. He looked like utter Hades. For all his cowering, Acheron could hit. Styxx’s right eye was completely red and his brow cut.
But what did it matter? There was no one to look at him. No Bethany to run her gentle hands over his face now and sympathize with his pain.
And as Styxx pulled the razor over his chin, he tried not to remember anything about her. Tried not to think at all.
But still those memories surged.… He could see her so clearly in his mind the day she’d fingered the center of his chin and scowled at what she found there.
“What is this?”
“A goatee.”
Sh
e’d made an adorable face at him. “The goat part is right. Why would you intentionally do that to yourself?”
“I thought you’d think it manly and sexy.”
She’d scoffed until he’d shown her what he could do to her with those whiskers. Then she’d been all behind his keeping it.
Tears filled his eyes, but he blinked them away. He missed so many things about her. Yet it was the loss of having someone to laugh with that burned most.
Unable to deal with it anymore, he lowered his hand and pulled the razor across his forearm, careful to pick an area he knew he could cover with his ornamental gold cuffs so no one would see it. He hissed in pain, allowing the physical to overshadow the mental anguish as he made several long cuts there. It’d been awhile since he’d done this.
Not since he met his Bethany. With her, he hadn’t needed the painful distraction.
Styxx glanced at the scars on his thighs and arms where he’d cut himself repeatedly when he’d been younger … anything to divert his emotions and thoughts from what really hurt. Most of the scars were so faint and fine, they were only visible whenever his skin darkened from the summer sun.
A sudden knock sounded. “Highness?”
He set the razor aside and went to answer his door. It was one of his father’s scribes.
“Sorry to disturb you, Your Highness. His Majesty requests you join him downstairs in his study immediately.”
“I’ll be there in a moment.” Styxx shut the door and finished dressing, making sure to cover the cuts he’d made in his forearm with the thick gold cuffs he wore for decoration then went to see what his father wanted.
The instant he entered the room, a feeling of dread consumed him.
This won’t please you, boy. His father gestured toward the chair in front of him.
Shit.
Styxx sat down while everyone withdrew to leave them alone.
Double shit.
Worse than the haste with which the room was vacated was the expression on the king’s face. One of controlled fury that had never boded well for Styxx in the past. “Father?”
“What is this I hear about your interference with the soldiers’ pensions?”
Interference? He’d merely seen to it that they’d been paid properly. “They weren’t getting what was owed them.”
Styxx (DH #33) Page 45