Acheron held his breath as he tried to understand what was happening. An instant later, Artemis appeared beside him.
Stunned, he couldn’t do anything other than stare at her.
“Your sister told me what they’d accused you of. Don’t worry, your father will have no memory of this. Nor will your brother.”
Acheron swallowed as he tried to understand what she was saying. “You’re protecting me?”
She nodded. An instant later, he was returned to his room and healed. Acheron lay back on his bed, more grateful than words could express. But even so it didn’t erase the pain of what he’d been through. Any more than it concealed the fact that Styxx was planning to overthrow his own father. The father who loved him more than the air he breathed.
How selfish could Styxx be? Their father doted on him … gave him anything he wanted, and still it wasn’t enough.
Styxx wanted … no, he demanded everything.
What am I going to do?
Artemis materialized beside him. Her expression was sorrowful as she brushed the hair back from his face.
“Will Ryssa remember us?” he asked her.
“No. From this moment forward she won’t even remember that you and I know each other.”
That was for the best.
Acheron stared at Artemis, amazed at what she’d done. No, she hadn’t stood up for him, but she had saved him. It was a major breakthrough from the last time she’d left him to their “tender” care and he’d been gelded. “Thank you for coming for me.”
Artemis laid her hand to his cheek. “I wish I could take you away from here.”
She was the only person who could do it. But her fear of being caught with a worthless whore was too great. And maybe she was right. What good would it do for her to be ruined over him?
He wasn’t worth it.
Acheron kissed her on the lips even though he was still cold inside. He had nowhere to go and he was sick and tired of being here with people who hated him.
I want out. But every time he’d tried to kill himself, he’d been stopped.
Because of his idiot brother.
Acheron froze at the thought.
Styxx …
In the blink of an eye the simplest answer to his predicament came to him. Why had he never thought of it before? It wasn’t himself he needed to kill.
Pulling back from Artemis, he held her hand. “You should go before someone stumbles in here.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Not if he had his way. “Tomorrow.”
Acheron watched as she faded, and the second she was gone, he immediately made plans for what was to come.
His father refused to let him die so long as his life was tied to Styxx’s, and Styxx was plotting the death of his father.
The answer was so simple.
If he killed Styxx, his father would be safe and Acheron would be free.
Peace. He would finally have peace from this stygian existence.
February 19, 9527 BC
Styxx scowled as he readied himself for bed. Something had been off all day. He remembered leaving Bethany and then …
There was a significant gap in his memory. The kind he only experienced whenever his uncle had drugged him or one of the gods had done something with him they didn’t want him to remember—and that was what concerned him most. Why had someone tampered with his memory?
Who had tampered with it?
Most importantly, what had happened during those missing hours?
His jaw was sore as if it’d been punched, but he had nothing else to answer his questions. Frowning, he kept trying to piece the day together. How had he gotten from the palace steps to falling asleep in fresh clothes on the floor of his room? Had a servant not come to wake him for dinner, he might still be asleep there.
It didn’t make sense. No one else seemed to have noticed anything being off or odd. And because of his past, he couldn’t stand not knowing what had happened during those missing hours of his life.
There’s nothing you can do.
Still, it bothered him. Finishing off his wine, he went to bed, hoping that he slept through the night for once.
But he knew better.
The only time he had any kind of peaceful sleep was with Bethany.
He crawled into bed and sighed. Four more days until her return. Closing his eyes, he focused on her and did his best to shut out everything else.
* * *
Styxx woke up to a fierce, stinging pain. Gasping, he opened his eyes to see a shadow staggering away from his bed as something warm gushed from his chest.
Blood. Someone had stabbed him while he slept.… Rage consumed him. Fucking coward! No one kills me and lives!
Determined to mark his killer, Styxx jerked the dagger from his chest and shot across the bed after him. But the pain was so severe, he could barely breathe for it. Blood poured over him as he staggered from the bed. He went to throw the dagger, but his legs buckled.
He hit the floor hard. Over and over, he relived that moment when the Stygian Omada had returned from Atlantis, and had been ambushed by Thracians.…
I’m dying. He knew it. Which meant Acheron must be dying, too.
The wound had gone straight through his heart and ruptured an artery. It was the only explanation for this amount of rapid blood loss. Tears filled his eyes as he thought of his Bethany.
How cruel to lose her now.
He fought Thanatos as hard as he could. But in the end, against all effort, he expelled one final breath and everything went dark.
* * *
Styxx came awake with a sharp, painful groan. Completely disoriented, he scowled at the amount of blood on the floor and on his body. Grimacing, he touched the wound that was directly over his heart. Blood still seeped out, but it was light compared to earlier.
His assassin was going to be shocked when he learned he’d failed. The coward must have checked his pulse, since he was now on his back and he’d fallen on his stomach.
At least he knew Acheron wasn’t dead.
Unsure of how much time had passed since his attack, Styxx feared for the rest of his family. The attacker could have gone after his father, sister, or Apollodorus. He had to make sure they were protected.
Ignoring the pain in his chest, he pushed himself up and grabbed the red cloak Gaius and his men had given him. He took his sword then headed for his father’s bedroom.
He bypassed the snoozing guards in the hallway and threw open the doors. “Father?”
Groggy, the king pushed himself away from the naked young slave woman in his bed and glared at him. “What is the meaning of this?”
Styxx pulled the cloak aside to show him the blood. “Someone tried to kill me while I was sleeping. I wanted to make sure they hadn’t come for you.”
His father paled at the sight. “You live?”
Obviously.
Somehow he managed to bite back that sarcasm before he responded. “Yes.”
Styxx stepped away from the bed and turned on the guards who’d finally awakened and joined him in the king’s bedchambers. “You,” he said to the one on the right, “stand fast and protect your king. You, rouse the others for a search. Lock down the palace until we’ve looked everywhere for my attacker.”
As they went to follow his commands, Styxx headed straight for Ryssa’s rooms.
He checked Apollodorus first. The babe was asleep with his nurse. Styxx left two guards with them as an alarm was sounded for the others then he entered Ryssa’s bedroom. She lay so still and pale that panic gripped him. Was she dead?
Gently, he touched her arm.
She came awake with a fierce screech.
Styxx breathed in relief, until she slapped him twice for waking her so rudely.
“What are you doing here at this hour? How dare you barge into my room uninvited! Who do you think you are? Are you trying to scare me to death?”
He ground his teeth as his cheek stung. “No, sweet sister. I w
asn’t trying to kill you. I was stabbed in my sleep and wanted to verify that you weren’t attacked, too.”
Her eyes widened as she saw the blood on him.
“Acheron!” She bolted from the bed and grabbed a red wrap. She was so worried about Acheron that she didn’t even bother to close the door.
“Follow the princess,” Styxx ordered the guard nearest him. “Don’t let her out of your sight.”
She didn’t even ask if I was all right.
Even though he was covered in blood. Nor did she apologize for slapping him when all he’d done was come to ensure her safety.…
The pain of that stung deep as he quickly searched her room to make sure it was clear. He left a guard posted in it then moved to check his brother. He was rather certain Acheron was unharmed, since Styxx felt no pain and lived.
“What do you mean?”
Styxx paused as he heard Acheron’s question. He glanced at his two siblings, and the concern on Ryssa’s face for his brother while his own cheeks stung from her slaps cut him deeply. There was no telling how red they were. Not that she cared. She’d never given him a single kind thought.
Acheron met his gaze over the top of Ryssa’s head. The panic in those silver eyes felt like a kick to his groin. He probably fears that I’ll blame him for this. But Styxx wasn’t Ryssa. Having been on the receiving end of many false allegations, he tried not to jump to conclusions without hard evidence.
But as the defender of Didymos, it was his responsibility to keep his family safe.
“Find my attacker,” he ordered the new group of guards, rushing toward them. “I want him now. Do you hear me? Search every corner until we have him.”
“Have you seen anyone?” Ryssa asked Acheron.
He shook his head. “I was in my room.”
Styxx started away then paused as a new threat went through him. He tended to forget that Acheron wasn’t battle trained. Anyone could kill his brother.
“Guards!” he called out to another group that entered the hallway. He gestured to his brother who stepped back in fear as if he thought Styxx might arrest him without cause … like their father had.
That fear made his heart clench. I would never willingly hurt you, Acheron. Damn you, Ryssa, for the lies you tell against me.
Heartsick, he pointed to Acheron. “Guard him. I want someone at his back at all times.”
Knowing his siblings didn’t want him disturbing them, Styxx went to help search the rest of the palace.
As soon as he reached the stairs, he saw Galen bursting through the main doors as if Cerberus was on his heels. Relief spread across his grizzled features the minute he saw Styxx on the landing. Galen took the steps two at a time until he was in front of him.
Placing his hands on Styxx’s shoulders, he scanned his body with a stern frown. “Good gods, son! You shouldn’t be up. Where were you struck? Where is the physician for you?”
Tears choked him at Galen’s concern. Out of a palace full of people, only Galen had bothered to ask after his welfare. He lowered the neck of his cloak to show the wound. “I’ve had worse.”
Galen snorted. “Yes and no. That needs stitching.” He grabbed a young guard who was coming up the stairs. “Fetch the physician and send him to Prince Styxx’s room. Fast, damn you, fast!” Then he took Styxx’s arm and pulled him back down the hallway.
“I was searching for my assailant.”
“Did you see him?” Galen asked.
“No. Not really.”
“Then you’re no good in a search, are you?”
“Yes, but—”
“No buts.” Galen forced him into his room. “Your Bethany would have both our arses if she saw you searching with a wound like that. And you’re covered in blood. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Styxx had no choice as Galen hauled him to the bathing pool and helped him to wash the wound.
“Where’s your father?”
“I left him in his rooms with his guards.”
Galen glanced about the empty chamber. “Who’s guarding you?”
Styxx held his sword up from where it rested on the floor beside Galen. “Me.”
Galen scoffed as he glared at the wound and took the sword from Styxx’s scarred hand. “And you’re doing a mighty fine job of it, I must say. Why wasn’t there a guard at your door?”
Styxx hissed as the warm water burned the injury. “You know I don’t like people around me.”
Galen arched a brow at that. “And yet you tolerate my sorry ass.”
“You’re entertaining.”
“Keep insulting me and I’ll stitch your wound myself. I know how much you enjoy that.”
Styxx snorted as he remembered all the times he’d cursed Galen as the old man stitched his wounds after battle. “What can I say? Your delicate touch stings me.”
Galen’s gruff smile melted into a stern glower as he helped Styxx out of the water and to bed. “I don’t want you to sleep again without at least two men on your door. I will be doing random checks and if I find your door unguarded again, I’m going to start standing at the foot of your bed at night. All night long.”
Apollo would love that. Which was part of the reason Styxx hadn’t wanted anyone at his door. That and he could hear their thoughts.
But Galen was right. After this, he couldn’t afford to be stupid.
“Yes, sir.”
Galen growled as he looked about the room and especially at the huge bloodstain on his sheets and the floor next to the bed. “Where’s that damned physician? You could have bled to death by now.” Then his frown deepened as he realized that they were in the room alone. Where’s your father? What kind of man doesn’t bother to check on his own son when he’s damn near murdered in his sleep? No wonder he didn’t care about killing my boy. He couldn’t care less about his own.
Stupid bastard.
When he glanced back, Styxx took care to keep his expression blank. “Can I get you anything?” Galen asked.
“I’m fine.”
The physician came in. Galen stayed while Styxx was stitched then afterward Galen went to help search.
* * *
Hours later after Styxx, against Galen’s dire threats, had rejoined the search for his attacker, it was obvious the culprit had escaped. Damn. It’d happened so fast and unexpectedly that he hadn’t seen even the smallest detail as to who it’d been.
On his way back to his chambers, Styxx paused as he saw Acheron returning to his own room. Alone. Fully dressed and wearing a cloak and shoes, Acheron had obviously been outside the palace.
“Where have you been?”
Acheron glared at him. “You don’t own me. I owe you nothing.” Bastard.
Styxx held his temper in check. “No, you don’t. But you should be careful. My attacker might come for you.”
Thank the gods you didn’t see me.
That unexpected thought slapped him harder than Ryssa had.
“I’ll take care it doesn’t happen to me,” Acheron mumbled as he headed for the stairs.
“Acheron?”
He paused to look back at him.
Styxx wasn’t sure what to say. He wanted to ask if Acheron had killed him. If his brother had discovered the truth Styxx had learned that afternoon when he’d first met Bethany. That he couldn’t die unless Acheron did.
If Acheron knew, he gave nothing away while he waited for Styxx to speak.
“Sleep well.”
Acheron scowled at him before he turned and continued on his way without responding.
February 23, 9527 BC
Bethany wanted nothing more than to see her prince. She’d had enough of Archon and the others raging over the fact that no one could find Apostolos, and that they only had a few more weeks until Apollymi came out of her jail, wanting their collective throats. If they kept this up, she was going to move to Egypt and be done with the lot of them.
She pushed open the cottage door. Dynatos ran ahead, barking happily. “Styxx?”
; “Right here, sweet.” He pulled her gently against him and held her close.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t lie to me. I can feel it in the way you touch me. What’s wrong?”
Styxx ground his teeth then smiled. He could never hide his feelings from her. She had an uncanny way of seeing his every emotion as if she could read his thoughts as well as he read everyone’s but hers. “I think my brother tried to kill me while I slept.”
“What?!”
“Don’t breathe a word of it to anyone, please. I have no proof, and the last thing I want is to see him hurt over a suspicion that could be false.”
Trembling for him, she ran her hands over his body, seeking an injury. “Were you hurt?”
“Stabbed.”
“Where?”
He took her hand and led it to the stitches.
She sucked her breath in sharply at the location. “Your heart?”
“No. My heart is here.” He placed her hand over her own chest.
“You’re not amusing.”
He pulled her back into his arms and laid his head on her shoulder. “Just hold me for a little while. Please.”
His humble, heartfelt request brought tears to her eyes. She sank her hands into his hair that was slowly growing longer and held him close. He’d needed her and yet again she hadn’t been here for him because she’d been off with the others. It nauseated her that she’d let him down again. Yet he said nothing about it.
And as minutes went by and he didn’t withdraw from her, she realized just how hurt he really was. Not physically, but emotionally. Who could blame him? If he was right, his own family had attempted to slaughter him while he slept. No wonder the man had so much trouble sleeping.
“Did you tell Galen your suspicion?”
“No. I was afraid to. As I said, I have no real proof and didn’t really catch a look at my attacker.”
Which meant he’d talked to no one about it, but rather had lived in silent torment. “When did this happen?”
“Four days ago.”
She ground her teeth in anger that he’d been so long alone. “I’m sorry, Styxx.”
“There’s nothing for you to be sorry over. You didn’t stab me, did you?”
Styxx (DH #33) Page 55