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Styxx (DH #33)

Page 47

by Sherrilyn Kenyon


  Apollo grabbed Styxx’s jaw and held him against the wall in a crushing, iron grip. “Do not ever think you can threaten me, human.”

  “Styxx? Where are you, boy?”

  Apollo glanced over his shoulder at the sound of the king’s voice. “Enjoy the next few hours, prince. Because I assure you, they’ll be the last ones you have to yourself for quite a while.”

  “I look forward to it.”

  “Styxx?”

  Apollo slung him away from him.

  Straightening his clothes, Styxx went to his father, who glared angrily. “Where were you?”

  “Forgive me, Father. I had something I had to attend to.”

  The expression on his father’s face said he wanted to backhand him, but didn’t dare since that would leave his face damaged for the princess. Though to be honest, he was surprised Apollo’s handprint wasn’t embedded on his neck.

  He followed his father into the throne room and moved to stand in front of his chair while his father took his seat. Styxx sat down and scanned the room for Apollo. But the god was nowhere to be seen.

  A fanfare began as the doors were opened and the procession began. A troupe of dancing girls led in three sets of slaves carrying chests of treasure for the king. One by one, they brought the chests forward and opened them for his father to see their contents. But that wasn’t what held Styxx’s attention. In the doorway, two large Nubian males held poles that had transparent linen strung between them to show the outline of the princess’s body. She possessed the carriage of a queen as she followed them into the room.

  Once they reached the thrones, the men lowered the screen to show an exquisitely beautiful woman who was a few years older than Styxx. Her dark skin was flawless. She wore a black wig laden with turquoise and gold, and her eyes were thickly lined with kohl, very similar to how Bethany often painted hers. Gold snake bracelets coiled around her arms and her thin linen sheath showed the outline of a perfect body.

  But she was no Bethany.

  And his body didn’t react to her at all. Not the way it did whenever he thought of the woman who had carelessly thrown his heart away.

  Styxx forced himself to smile and rise to his feet. Heartsick and aching, he descended the dais to take her hand and kiss it.

  A slow, seductive smile curled her lips. Thank the gods you’re handsome. I definitely wouldn’t mind taking a bite out of those arms.…

  The relief in her tone almost made him laugh.

  “Welcome, princess.”

  And thank the gods you have a deep, manly voice to match the rest of you. Holding his hand, she gave him a slight curtsy. “Your Highness.”

  Her parents came forward and were introduced to his father, who then excused Styxx and Nefertari so that they could walk, with a heavy Egyptian guard, out to the gardens.

  Styxx folded his hands behind his back as she led the way.

  “I hear you’re a war hero, Prince Styxx.”

  “Really just a soldier.”

  “Oh.” There was no missing the disappointment in that one single word.

  Awkward silence stretched out between them as they walked. Styxx couldn’t think of anything to say. Strange how he’d never had that problem with Bethany. They had been able to talk forever about absolutely nothing.

  “Did you have a pleasant journey to Greece?” he asked her.

  She walked down to the garden that had once been his mother’s favorite. “Yes.”

  More awkward silence.

  Nefertari stopped and faced him. “You don’t speak much, do you?”

  “No.”

  “That’s not necessarily a negative.… Still, I propose we get one thing out of the way.”

  “And that is?”

  She reached up and pulled his lips down to hers so that she could kiss him. Closing his eyes, Styxx followed her lead, but his heart wasn’t in it. Yes, his body reacted to her. Still, it wasn’t the same as when he held his Bethany. There was no overwhelming need to breathe in her scent. To lay himself against her and stay with her for eternity.

  She was just there.

  Nefertari pulled back with a satisfied smile. “You are acceptable to me.”

  “My father will be pleased.”

  “Are you not pleased, Prince Styxx?”

  No. But he didn’t want to hurt her feelings. “Of course, princess. You’re exquisitely beautiful.”

  She narrowed her eyes on him. “Does it bother you that I’m Egyptian?”

  “Not at all. Does it bother you that I’m Greek?”

  “I thought it would. But no … and you speak Egyptian incredibly well. I find your accent and voice exceptionally pleasant.”

  Nice to know he wasn’t totally repellent. “Do you speak Greek at all?”

  “A little, but not well. Would you help me learn?”

  “Of course.” That would at least give them something to talk about besides the weather.

  She sighed. “So … Styxx. What qualities do you expect from your wife and queen?”

  “Nothing specific.”

  That stunned her so much, she actually gaped. “Nothing?”

  “I would appreciate it if she liked me, but other than that, no. Do you have a list?”

  “Absolutely. I expect courtesy and preference to be given to me and my children at all times. While I accept that you’ll have mistresses and possibly other wives, they are not to be kept in our home. You may visit them in town or wherever you wish to place them. But as your first wife, I will not have them in my direct line of sight or near any children I birth. I want my children educated in Egyptian as well as Greek and they are to worship my gods. I expect an altar to be built for my gods in my end of the palace and for my personal priests to be given their own rooms with full, unrestricted access to mine.”

  Now it was Styxx’s turn to gape.

  “While I am not opposed to Greek servants,” she continued, oblivious to his incredulity, “I will require that I have Egyptians kept, too. I expect you to give me notice in the morning if you’ll be spending the night with me. I will not bed with you whenever you are drunk and you are to bathe before you come to me. I have a scent that I’ve brought from home that you will need to wear for those occasions. You are not to raise your voice to me or make demands of my private time. I require at least two hours a day for my own personal use. I prefer them in the morning, but they can be moved if necessary.”

  “Thought about this a lot, have you?”

  She glared at him. “Are you mocking me?”

  “No. I was joking.”

  “I don’t like jokes. I find humor offensive.”

  Great. No laughter.

  Maybe he could bribe Acheron into committing suicide so that they could both be put out of their mutual misery.…

  “Duly noted. What else, princess?”

  “I expect a separate residence and rooms to be kept for me at all times. I will reserve the right to deny you access to my rooms should you displease me in any way or for any reason. And you are not to force yourself upon me. Likewise, I will not receive you if you are ill or infirmed or when I have my monthly flow. While I understand you may wish to strike me at times, you can use nothing other than your hand. And you are not to touch me at all during any pregnancy. Once I’ve given birth, I will require a six-month respite from your bed. I will expect lands as a gift for any sons and jewelry for daughters. You are to hold feasts on my birthday and declare them sacred holidays.”

  “Should I summon a scribe to take notes?”

  “I told you I don’t like jokes.”

  “I was quite serious. I’d hate to forget one of your dictates, princess.”

  “Fear not. I’ve already had them noted for you, and translated into Greek.” She paused to look up at him. “Do you wish to negotiate any of my terms?”

  Why bother? It was obvious they were far more important to her than they were to him. “Not really.”

  “Then you accept them?”

  “Sure.”
<
br />   Good … I wanted a weak husband I could control. I’m glad to know you’re flaccid. She offered him a smile then started forward.

  A fierce tic started in his jaw at the way she dismissed him as if he were nothing. “By the way, Nefertari, contrary to your opinion of me, I’m not a pussy. The reason I’m not negotiating is not because I’m weak. But rather I don’t honestly give a shit, and your puerile terms aren’t worth arguing over. And I do have one requirement of you. Whatever children we have, you are to be a loving mother to them, regardless of your feelings for me. You will never threaten or raise a hand to one of them. If you do, I will see you dead for it … by my hands.”

  She gaped at him as he turned around and headed back into the palace. Without a word to anyone, he returned to his rooms to be alone.

  He poured himself a cup of wine and opened a packet of herbs for it. His heart heavy, he looked down at his arm to see the scar his father had given him when he’d been a boy, and then his gaze went to Bethany’s necklace on his wrist. He should cut it off and toss it in the fire, but he couldn’t make himself cast her away as easily as she’d done him.

  But then that seemed ever his destiny … to only love women who couldn’t stand him.

  Except Nefertari. There would never be any love lost between them. Only royal duty and obligation.

  And endless days of humorless misery.

  * * *

  Hours later, Styxx tried to breathe as his head pounded from the crowd of people who’d come, in theory, to wish him and Ryssa well. In reality, they were here to see the god Apollo, and to drink his father’s wines and eat the elaborate banquet foods being carried in by waves of servants.

  Nefertari stood beside him, but he could freeze ocean water with the glances she directed at him. Still, he gave her credit. She was as adept at hiding her feelings as he was. Together, they were able to allow their parents and the guests to think them a happy couple.

  An illusion that would be helped if he didn’t hear her thoughts.

  His father stood up. Forcing himself to smile, Styxx stood and helped Nefertari to her feet while Apollo did the same with Ryssa on the other side of his father.

  The king lifted his kylix to their guests. “Thank you all for coming to celebrate with me. It’s not every day that a king is so blessed. Let us all raise our cups in honor of my only daughter, the human consort for the god Apollo, who is now expecting his child, and to my only son, who will be marrying the Egyptian princess Nefertari. May the gods bless them both and may our lands forever flourish.”

  As Styxx took a drink, he felt a malevolence so strong, it actually drowned out all the other voices tormenting him.

  Acheron. He glanced up to see his twin in the shadows, glaring at them.

  Brother, Styxx thought silently, you can have every bit of this with my blessings and gratitude.

  Acheron’s anger grew as the king leaned over and kissed Ryssa and then Styxx. “To my beloved children,” he said to the crowd once more. “Long may they live.”

  A deafening shout rose up from the crowd. Styxx kept his gaze on his brother. He knew exactly how Acheron felt. It was the same pain he had whenever he heard Acheron and Ryssa laughing through the walls of his room.

  It cut and it bled. But the difference was that with Ryssa, the affection wasn’t for show.

  It was sincere.

  February 14, 9528 BC

  Styxx smiled as he came awake to a gentle hand playing in his hair. “Bethany?”

  “Not quite.”

  He jerked away at the sound of Apollo’s deep voice in his ear. “What are you doing here?” He shoved at Apollo. “Ew … you reek of my sister.”

  Apollo buried his hand in Styxx’s hair and snatched his head back. “You seem to have forgotten the bargain you made. Or do you no longer care what happens to the people you love?”

  “Our bargain didn’t include your mauling me in front of my family.”

  “Your family isn’t here now.”

  Styxx cringed as Apollo wrapped his arms around him and pulled him flush against the Olympian’s chest.

  “You still haven’t learned obedience.”

  Styxx tried to move away from him. “I’m not a dog.”

  Apollo laughed in his ear. “No, but I’ll bet I can teach you to beg.”

  “I’d rather not learn.”

  “Then roll over and kiss me.”

  Styxx ground his teeth as he did everything he could to force himself to obey Apollo’s order. It’ll be easier if you just do it.

  But he couldn’t. He was too tired of living like this. Tired of being threatened and tormented. By everyone. At this point, he didn’t care anymore. Bethany was gone and there was really nothing else that mattered to him. “Why can’t you leave me in peace?”

  “Peace?” Apollo snarled as he pinned Styxx to the bed by his throat, facing him. “Do you not comprehend the honor I’m doing you? I have marked you!”

  Staring at the wall, Styxx kept his head turned away from his tormentor. This was an honor he would gladly do without.

  Apollo slapped him. “Look at me.”

  His lips bleeding, Styxx met his livid glare with one of his own.

  Apollo backhanded him again. “I’ve had it with your insolence. You think you know what pain is, human? You don’t. But you’re about to learn. And this time, I won’t have mercy on you, prince. I will take absolutely everything from you, and I do mean everything. There will be nothing left of you when I’m through, and I promise you, you will go down on your knees to beg me for my mercy.”

  Sick of everything and everyone, Styxx laughed at his threat. “Fine. Do your worst to me and I will relish it.”

  January 11, 9527 BC

  Almost a year later

  “Bet’anya … we need you to settle a bet for us.”

  Bethany paused as she entered the grand hall on Katateros where statues of the main gods lined the massive round foyer. The white marble floor glistened brightly and held the sun symbol of Apollymi in the center. She’d been on her way to report to Archon that she had yet to find a trace of Apostolos.

  But before she could make it to the doors that led to his throne room, her cousins Teros and Phanen, gods of fear and panic, stopped her. “Settle what?”

  “Is this your emblem or Artemis’s?”

  Her heart clenched as they handed her the necklace she’d given to Styxx so long ago. At first, she thought it belonged to another, but there was no mistaking the spell she’d put on it. While it was extremely weakened for some reason, she could still feel some of her father’s protection powers remaining. “Where did you get this?”

  Teros crossed his arms over his chest. “You answer us first.”

  She moved into his personal space and glared at them in turn. “Where did you get this!” Not a question. It was a demand.

  His dark eyes widening, Phanen took a step back from her. “Calm down, cuz. It’s a souvenir we took.”

  “From?”

  “A prisoner of war,” Teros answered for him.

  “Prisoner, my ass.” Phanen snorted at his brother’s explanation. “He was a gift from Apollo to Atlantis. A tribute, as it were.”

  She grabbed Teros by the throat and held him in a grip that let him know exactly how serious and angry she was. “Start at the beginning and tell me about the man you took this from.”

  “Why—”

  She cut him off with a lethal stare. “The next words off your tongue better answer my question or they will be your last. And we both know I have the powers to do it.”

  He swallowed hard before he finally answered without hedging. “Styxx of Didymos. As an act of good faith on his part to all of us, Apollo handed him over to Archon about a year ago.”

  Her head swam with his news. It couldn’t be …

  She knew better. If Styxx was in their realm here or in Atlantis, she’d know it.

  Wouldn’t she?

  “Styxx is in Didymos,” she insisted.

 
; “No … one of Apollo’s servant spirits is in Didymos, masquerading as the prince. The real Styxx was brought here last year when you were in Egypt with your father and aunt. There was a huge celebration over it. He was trussed like a festival goose and dropped butt-ass naked into the center of the hall, at Archon’s feet.”

  Bethany stepped back from them as horror and pain for Styxx invaded every part of her. Please be lying … please. She looked back at the gloating brothers who were now on her last nerve as they laughed about something she didn’t find amusing at all. “How did you get my necklace?”

  Teros slapped Phanen on the chest. “Told you it was hers.”

  Phanen ignored him. “We took it from Styxx two nights ago right before they led him down to the arena for another exhibition match. He struggled like a demon to keep it though. Damn near had to take his arm off to get it. You could say thank you to us for returning it, you know.” He jerked his chin toward her amulet. “How’d he get it, anyway? Steal it from one of our troops during the war?”

  She ignored his question as she tried to make sense of what he was saying. “Arena?”

  Teros scowled. “Is that all she got out of that?”

  Bethany grabbed him by his formesta and jerked him closer. “What fucking arena!”

  The brothers exchanged a gape over her language before Teros spoke again. “Atlantean main amphitheater. Three times a week they trot him out for public games and fights. Sometimes they just torture him for sport.”

  Sick to her stomach, Bethany flashed herself from Katateros to the main arena in the capital city. She took a moment to disguise herself as an Apollite servant before she entered the holding area below the main arena stage. Animals and props for shows were kept here. As were prisoners who were held for public executions or games where they could sometimes win their freedom.

  “So did you get your pound of flesh?”

  She paused at the sight of two huge fighters heading toward her.

  “No, but I got to pound his little Greek ass. I can’t believe that piece of shit ever led an army.”

  “As I recall, he led that army right over yours and burned it to the ground.”

  “Shut up.”

 

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