Styxx (DH #33) (25 page)

Styxx ground his teeth. Acheron truly had no memory of his being in Atlantis. At all. And unfortunately, this was not the time to argue about it. “We have to go.”

“Go where?”

“Anywhere. I can’t leave you to this. Not again.”

Acheron caught his hand then shoved him back before he could cut the tie. “Are you fucking stupid? Do you know what happens to boys our age on their own?”

Yes, but they weren’t drugged out of their minds now. While one of them alone was weak, the two of them could protect each other. “I can work as a mercenary. They make good money.”

“And I’m what? The camp whore?” Acheron asked incredulously. “What do you think they’d do to me while you’re out playing hero and warrior? Really?” He raked a brutal glare over Styxx’s body. “And don’t fool yourself,
Highness
.” He sneered the title. “You have the same unnatural lure I do that makes everyone who sees you want to fuck you, too. The only reason you’re left alone is because you’re a known prince. If you think you’re any better than me, I defy you to walk into a town where they don’t know you and watch how fast you’re thrown on the ground and butt-fucked until you can’t walk straight.”

Those words tore through him, especially the part that was truest. But still …

“You really want me to leave you here?”

Acheron’s glower sliced through him. “I want
all
of you to leave me alone. Forever. I’m done with you.”

He well understood that feeling and declaration.

Even so, Styxx couldn’t leave his brother defenseless. He pulled the dagger from his belt and buried it in the ground between them. “Do us both a favor. When you get back, drive that straight through Estes’s dead heart.”

Acheron raked him with another sneer. “You’re the soldier. Why don’t
you
?”

Wanting to soothe his brother and make him see reason, Styxx reached for him. “Acheron—”

He knocked his hand away. “You’re dead to me. You’ve been dead to me since the day you let them take me from my home.”

Styxx was aghast that he’d throw
that
in his face. “I was seven.”

“
So was I
.”

Rage darkened Styxx’s gaze. For
this
selfish asshole, who held something against him he couldn’t have even begun to fight, he’d been whored? Beaten?

Branded?

“Fuck you, Acheron!”

“Why not? You’re the only one who hasn’t.”

Styxx scoffed. “Not according to Estes.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Unable to even contemplate
that
nightmare, Styxx held his hands up in surrender. “You have a weapon. Use it, if you’re man enough. I’m done with you,
brother
. I will never again jeopardize my ass for yours.
Ever
.”

Rising, Styxx glared down at his twin then he turned and walked away.

You can’t save those who don’t want to be saved.

Like Ryssa, Acheron made no sense to him. If he were Acheron and he had any chance to stay away from Atlantis, he’d take it.

But what the Hades …

His deadline was almost up. Now Estes would have his pet back. Styxx wouldn’t have to go to Atlantis in his brother’s stead. He should be happy.

Yet he wasn’t. How could he be happy that his brother was so terrified and beaten down that he wouldn’t even try to fight anymore?

In this, no one won. Least of all Acheron.

Styxx swung himself up on his horse and took the reins of the one he’d brought for his brother. Against his will, he looked back to see Acheron lying down on the ground by the campfire as if he was completely content to go back to Estes’s home.

Part of him still wanted to charge into camp and force his brother to leave. But Acheron and Estes had already shown him what that would get him in the end.

Fucked.

When someone is drowning and you try to save them, they’re more likely to drown you before you pull them out.

Acheron had done enough damage to him. He would not allow him to do any more, no matter how much pity Styxx held for him in his heart.

“Good luck, brother. May you find peace someday.”

June 23, 9532 BC

“Happy birthday, you little prick!”

His head throbbing in agony, Styxx barely had time to duck before Ryssa lobbed her gift at him. It struck the wall beside his face. “What is your problem?”

“You! Every day I have to look at you, knowing what Acheron is going through, is one I hate you more.”

Styxx bent over and fished his “gift” from the floor. He held it up for her to see. “Thank you, dearest sister. I shall treasure it always, and especially the manner in which it was received.”

Twisting her face up, she silently mocked his words. “You think you’re so clever. You’re nothing but a fatuous, spoiled brat.”

“One wrapped so tight in familial love that it suffocates me,” he said sarcastically.

“You absolutely disgust me. How can you stand here in your comfort while your twin suffers so?”

It wasn’t easy, but Acheron had given him no choice whatsoever.

Styxx curled his lips at her. “What do you know of it?”

“I know that Estes sells him!”

Styxx froze as he saw his father nearing them. If he heard one word of this …

There was no telling what the king might do to her.

He dropped his tone so that only Ryssa could hear him. “And you’d best listen to me, dear sister. For your own good. Estes would never do such a thing. It’s another of your lies designed to make us free Acheron. Do you understand?”

She slapped him so hard his ears rang from the blow. “You’re a selfish, worthless coward! I burn for the day when I stand over your corpse. Better yet, I would gladly pay any cost to see you whored one day the way Acheron is.”

Styxx glared at her as those words pricked memories he tried to keep buried. “And you should be grateful I’m not king yet. I’d have you whipped for such treachery.” Wiping the blood from his lips, he left her and headed for his room.

“Styxx?”

He hesitated at his father’s call from downstairs. Given how badly his face burned, he knew his sister’s handprint would be plainly evident.

Shit …

“Yes, Father,” he said without moving.

“Could you come here, please?”

Double shit.

Sighing, Styxx turned and closed the distance between them.

His father’s eyes widened as he saw the mark. “What happened to you?”

Styxx rubbed his hand over his stinging cheek. “Said something to a woman I shouldn’t have.”

“What woman? Name her and I’ll have her whipped for the audacity.”

Sure you would.…
But honestly, he didn’t want to chance it. “It’s fine, Father. Some might say I deserved it.”

That didn’t placate the king at all. “You are the prince and must be respected as such!”

Did that include his uncle molesting him, or his twin? He had to bite back that hostility before it got him a lot worse than a bitch-slap. “Did you need something, Father?”

“I wanted to go over the banquet tonight with you.”

Styxx glanced up to see Ryssa standing beside his mother on the stair ledge. Both were staring a hole through him. He was so tired of it all. The lies, the deceit.

The shame.

But worse was the knowledge that if the truth ever came out, Ryssa would gloat. His mother, too. The two of them would probably pay Estes for a front row seat to watch his uncle plow him open.

Unaware that Styxx was distracted, the king continued on. “Would you mind seeing Senator Nileas about the proposal he said he’d have to me yesterday? He should be in the forum this time of day.”

“I shall see it done, Father.” Ignoring his mother and sister, Styxx left the palace then headed for the forum in the center of town.

His face had finally stopped burning by the time he reached the building where many of the noblemen gathered to drink and philosophize away from their wives. Since he could hear their thoughts and knew the majority of them despised him with a venom that made Ryssa look like a devoted fan, he tended to avoid this place whenever he could.

Ironically, the thing they criticized and held against him most was the fact that he’d refused to pick one of them as his “mentor.” Rather he’d designated Galen instead of a nobleman because he knew Galen wouldn’t expect him to bend over when they were alone together. Nor would Galen expect political favors from him later.

And the old war dog held at least a modicum of regard for him. While his choice was extremely unconventional, it gave him one less nightmare to endure.

“Where’s Nileas?” Styxx asked the first senator he found in the complex.

“In the back, Highness. With Patrokles.”

Styxx paused to turn toward the two guards who trailed him. The nobles didn’t like “commoners” spying on them while they spoke freely. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Reluctantly, they obeyed.

Styxx made his way through the building until he heard two voices that locked his legs.

“I’m telling you right now, it’s true. I had both the prince and a boy who looks just like him, except for his eyes, in Atlantis, in my bed at the same time.”

“You’re lying!”

“Ask Melus if you doubt me. He was there, too, and took a turn with both of them.”

“When?”

“Last fall.”

“You’re such a liar.”

“Liar, am I? Next time you’re around Styxx, drop something and look up his chiton. His entire left side and buttocks are horribly scarred. He even has a brand mark on his ass and left nipple.”

Styxx couldn’t breathe as those details racked him and verified the truth of the boast. When Estes had told him he’d sold him, Styxx had assumed all the men had been Atlantean.

Not …

“You’ve no idea how distracting it is to see him now when all I can think about is how much I’d love to have him on his knees in front of me again. You can’t tell it by looking at him, but he has the most amazing tongue. I don’t know who trained the prince, but kudos to a most apt pupil.”

Unable to deal with it or face the men who were talking about him like that, Styxx spun about and left. By the time he returned to the palace, it was all he could do not to scream in horror. Panic took full possession of him.

What do I do?

That bullshit would eventually reach his father. And there was no telling what he’d do to Styxx for it. The only thing he knew for certain was that his father would find some reason to blame him for the whole ordeal.

Everyone
would know he was a whore. That he was a branded tsoulus …

How many other Greeks and Didymosians had bought him?

Had Estes lied about the number?

They know I’m a whore.…

My father will brutally execute me for this.

Terrified, he walked furious circles in his room as he tried to decide what to do.

And he had a banquet tonight where they’d all be in attendance … laughing and reminiscing. Possibly dropping things to verify his scars.

I’ll be able to hear their thoughts
.

If he got around anyone who’d slept with him, he’d know it. Their thoughts would override his.

I can’t do this
.

Even if his father beat him. He could not go to that banquet. How could he walk out there with his head held high while “whore” was branded on his body and there were men in the crowd who’d bought and screwed him?

His hands shaking, Styxx grabbed the wine from his table and drank it.

No, he needed his herbs.

He went to the chest and pulled out the last batch his uncle had brought him. After taking out three times the normal amount, he used his finger to stir it into the wine then he downed it in two gulps.

Please, gods, please let me die.…

He laid down on the floor and closed his eyes, hoping and praying he never opened them again.

June 24, 9532 BC

“You disgust me!”

Why am I not dead?
Styxx groaned as his father continued to shout at him through the pounding agony of his head.

“I’ve never been more embarrassed in my entire life!”

Then you should try waking up naked, chained to a bed by your uncle who sold you to men you’re forced to see repeatedly.

“How could you do this to me?” his father continued to rail.

Oh yeah, I really
screwed
you, old man.… I’m not the one who sent you into the woods to be raped, and then laughed with your rapists for two days.

The one who left you to be tortured for your own good by your beloved priests.

He’d laugh if it wasn’t so damn pathetic. Licking his dry lips, Styxx cracked his eyes open to see his father standing over him. “What did I do?”

“You laid up here drunk while we held a banquet in
your
honor. Do you know how that looks?”

Like I’m the spoiled, happy prince everyone stupidly thinks I am?

“It was so disrespectful to me and to the senators and their families. Is this the kind of king you want to be? Is it?”

I don’t want to be king at all, especially not to senators who paid my uncle to screw me.

“Get up!” His father kicked him.

Styxx grimaced before he sat up. His eyes widened instantly as his stomach heaved. Scrambling, he barely made it to the chamber pot before his stomach lost all its contents.

“Look at you. You’re pathetic. I have never in my life seen a sorrier sight.”

You should get out more.
He vomited again.

His father raked him with a merciless glower. “As soon as you finish with your self-absorbed, self-inflicted illness, you’re to be caned for it.”

Styxx wiped at his mouth. “You said I was too old for that.”

“You’re too old to act like a petulant, out-of-control child. If you’re going to behave as one, I’m going to treat you as one.”

He started to protest then his stomach churned again.

“And I intend to watch every stroke you’re given.”

Styxx closed his eyes, grateful beyond measure for that mercy even if it meant more strokes for him. Thank the gods. He could almost smile at the relief he felt.