Styxx (DH #33) (56 page)

What have I done
?

But then she knew. She’d callously played with a human life without taking into account what it would mean for the pawn. All the while not knowing, or even considering for one moment, that the pawn she used was her heart.

She winced as memories burned through her. How many times had she taken aim for Styxx’s head in battle? No wonder she hadn’t been able to kill him. Her own amulet had deflected her blows. Those primal powers she’d felt had been her father’s … the very powers she’d called on to keep Styxx/Hector safe.

He froze and cocked his head. “Bethany?”

The familiar sound of her name on his lips tore through her.

Styxx raked his hand through his hair. “I swear I’m going insane. I feel her even when I know she’s not with me.”

I’m here, love.

She held her hand out to touch his shoulder, but the sight of Apollo’s sun emblem slapped her hard.

War.

Over a meager human …

How could she do that to her people for a human male who would be dead in a few short years? One life wasn’t worth thousands of others.

Not even his.

She’d known when she started this game that it couldn’t last. That eventually she’d have to walk away and leave him to his mortal life.

Now was the time to end it. Before either of them went further into a relationship that was doomed and damned.

Besides, their time for finding Apollymi’s son was drawing critically short. She had to focus on that and help the others while Apollo prepared to replace the Greek pantheon.

Her eyes teared as she took her last look at him. This time, she would leave and not look back.

“Farewell, Hector,” she breathed then she returned to Katateros where she belonged.

December 13, 9529 BC

Styxx sat on the throne beside his father, wanting to beat the man senseless. For the last two days his back had throbbed unmercifully and all because Acheron had dared walk Ryssa to Apollo’s temple at her behest for her binding ceremony. She was always so concerned about her precious Acheron, and yet she continually put the fool in harm’s way.

And she dared to call
him
selfish.

Stupid
kuna
. She was the one who didn’t care about anyone except herself.

Grinding his teeth, Styxx grimaced as more pain cut through him and he wiped at the clammy sweat on his forehead. He was just about to piss his father off by asking to be excused when the doors opened, and guards dragged Acheron into the room with them.

Styxx bit back a curse as they forced Acheron to his knees in front of their father’s throne.

What have you done now?

Got caught picking your nose?

“As per your instructions, he hasn’t left his room, Sire,” the guard on the left of Acheron said firmly. “We’ve made sure of it.”

Acheron cast a murderous glare at Styxx as if he was to blame for his sudden appearance here.

Don’t cut those silver eyes at me. Brother, I’d set you free in a heartbeat if I could.

The king curled his lip at Acheron. “You weren’t in the square earlier,
teritos
?”

Styxx’s jaw ticced at the insult that meant “slug.”

To his brother’s credit, Acheron gave his father a fearless, malevolent glare. It was a look he knew well as one he’d been known to give their father whenever he felt particularly suicidal.

No wonder Father backhands me
.

It took everything he had not to applaud Acheron.

“Why would I have been in the square, Father?” Acheron asked boldly.

Styxx cringed at what he knew would follow such a comment. It was the same sentence he always received for his own verbal stupidity.

“Thirty-six lashes for his insolence then return him to his room.”

Khalash!
The king was nothing if not consistent.

Acheron closed his eyes as the guards grabbed him by the hair and hauled him through a set of double doors that opened out into a small courtyard.

Thanks, brother
. Styxx almost gasped out loud as the first lash went down Acheron’s back. More sweat beaded on his forehead and he forced himself to hold still and not react.

Think of Bethany. Think of …

Another vicious lash tore through him.

Styxx gripped the arms of his throne until his knuckles protruded. His stomach heaved.

“Are you all right, Highness?”

He glared at the advisor who’d spoken.
Damn you, Xoran, for noticing
. He inclined his head to him. “It’s a war wound acting up.”

For once, his father actually looked concerned. “Do you need a moment?”

I need you to stop beating the hell out of my twin, you idiot.

Styxx’s breathing came in short gasps as he struggled for composure. Last thing he needed was any more pain added to what he already had. “I would deeply appreciate one. But it’s not necessary.”

His father lifted his hand to signal for the next case then paused. “Let’s continue this after lunch.”

Thank the gods.

Wiping at his forehead, Styxx narrowed his gaze on his father. So the bastard
could
have mercy. That was a first.

“Thank you, Father.” Styxx didn’t move until the king and his advisors and guards had vacated the room.

Biting back another groan, he could hear them beating his brother from outside. He buried his head in his hands, wishing he knew something he could do to help them both.

Kill your father.

He winced as that unbidden thought cut him. How could he? The guilt of killing Estes, who had truly deserved his death and more, still plagued him. While his father was a complete and utter bastard, he mostly did what he thought was best. Right or wrong. And Styxx knew that for a fact since he could hear the moron’s thoughts.

No, as angry as the man made him, he could never kill him.

There had to be some other way to stop this shit and he needed to find it.

Fast.

December 26, 9529 BC

“Beth?” Styxx called out as he searched the cottage property. She should have returned by now. But there was no sign of her.

The welcome back necklace he’d bought for her was still in its case on the table. Untouched. As was her pole and everything else.

Heartbroken, he wheeled Troian around and went to the stream, where they’d first started meeting.

She wasn’t there either. There was nothing waiting for him in the tree. It was as if she’d never existed.

Where could she be?

“Bethany!” he shouted even louder as tears choked him. Why hadn’t he insisted she name her father?

You wouldn’t approve of him, Hector.

Because he’d been so reluctant to tell her more about his family, he had honored her privacy. And now …

He had no way of finding her.

Where are you?
Could something have happened? Was she ill? Did she need him?

Agonized grief overwhelmed him as tears flowed down his cheeks. She’d promised to meet him today and she never broke her word. Not to him. Not ever.

Maybe she was delayed. Maybe he was panicking for no reason. It was only early afternoon …

She could still show.

Forcing himself to calm down, he went back to the cottage to make a fire and wait. She would be here. She would.

And yet as the hours passed and the sky darkened, more fear filled him. Even though he knew it was useless, he spent the night in their cottage, waiting for her. But by midday when there was still no sign of her, he knew something was wrong.

He just didn’t know what.

December 28, 9529 BC

Sick to his stomach and heartbroken, Styxx entered the palace and ignored his father’s look of disdain as the king saw his unkempt state. He hadn’t eaten or shaved in two days. Not while he’d waited for Bethany to come to their cottage.

“Are you ill?”

Yes, but his father would never understand. “I’m fine, Father.”

“You look shameful.”

Styxx didn’t even react. He didn’t care. The only thing he loved was gone and he had no way of finding her.

Tears pricked the back of his eyes as he pushed open his bedroom door and saw Apollo in his receiving room. Ah, beautiful. Could his day be any better?

Apollo raked him with a sneer. “Where have you been?”

Styxx sighed. “I didn’t know you were looking for me.”

The god materialized at his back and grabbed his jaw in one powerful fist. He snatched Styxx’s head back until he could see Apollo’s angry glare. “Are you breaching our agreement?”

Hopeless despair filled him. What difference did anything make now? He felt as if his entire life force had been ripped out of his body. He was nothing more than an empty shell. “No.”

Apollo nuzzled his neck, scraping his skin with his fangs. Then he punched Styxx in the back with his fist, knocking him forward. “Bathe yourself and return to me. I’ve had my fill of your mewling sister and her whiny voice. And don’t be long. If I have to come get you, you won’t be happy about it.”

As if any of this made him happy?

Styxx resisted the urge to pass an obscene gesture at the god. The last thing he wanted to do was have the bastard think it was an invitation.

Without a word, he went to bathe and tried his best not to think about what would happen once he finished.

Styxx paused in his bathing pool as he heard Acheron and Ryssa laughing together in her room. The two of them had always done that. When he’d been a boy, he used to try and join them, but Ryssa had never allowed it.

You have other people to play with. Leave us alone, you little brat
.

But his tutors had never allowed him to play and other children had been too afraid. So he’d wander off to make up friends.

He dunked his head under the water and tried his best to ignore his siblings. Yet their laughter and conversation continued to stab his heart. He understood his father doubting his blood relationship, but Ryssa knew he was as related to her as Acheron was.

And with Acheron …

They were full-blooded brothers.

And still they ignored him at best, rebuffed him at worst. All he’d ever wanted in his life was to feel like he belonged somewhere.

That he belonged to someone.

No one would have him. Except for the brief time when he’d found happiness with Bethany. Tears filled his eyes as he looked down at her necklace on his wrist.
Please don’t leave me here alone, Beth. I can’t survive this without you.

What if she really was gone from him?

Forever?

“Styxx!” Apollo’s snarl cut through his thoughts as he made the mark on Styxx’s back burn.

With a ragged breath, Styxx wiped away the tears with the heels of his hands and left the water to do what he did best.

Endure hell.

January 27, 9528 BC

“What is wrong with you?” Styxx snarled as he found Acheron drunk and naked on the floor of Acheron’s room.

Sneering at him, Acheron grabbed the wineskin he’d been cradling under his body and drank from it. “Go away, you quim! I hate you! I wish we were dead.…” His voice broke off into sobs.

Acheron’s pain reached out to him, making him feel bad that he’d yelled at him.

Styxx knelt beside his twin and took the wineskin away. “Acheron … listen to me. I know you haven’t eaten in at least two days.” Their shared hunger pangs attested to it. He took the bread that Hestia had left earlier for his brother and held it out to Acheron. “You have to take some. Do you understand?”

“Fuck you … you worthless whore!”

Flinching at the insult that cut to his bones, Styxx tried to put a piece of bread in Acheron’s mouth, but he bit him so hard, he bled.

Styxx cursed and snatched his hand away. He glared at his twin, wanting to kill him. “Father is going to have you beaten or restrained and force-fed again. Is that what you want?”

Tears welled in Acheron’s swirling silver eyes. “No. My want has abandoned me. Slapped me.” He glared at Styxx. “Beat me. Because I’m not
you
! If I were a prince and not a whore … But you’re both. You are. I know you are. You aren’t that, but you are. I saw it. They saw … you. It…”

Acheron was so drunk, he was incoherent. Even his thoughts made no sense whatsoever.

Styxx pressed the heel of his hand to his eye as he tried to sort through Acheron’s mad ramblings. They were so fast and nonsensical, they set his brain to aching.

Sobbing hard, Acheron curled into a ball on the floor.

Styxx’s throat tightened at the sight of his brother’s agony, and at his own need to join him there. Like him, his brother was in absolute misery over something that had happened. But what?

He knew he was the last person Acheron wanted to confide in. He’d go get Ryssa for him, but she was with Apollo.

I’m all he has
.

Gods help us both.

“
Adelphos,
” he whispered, placing his hand on Acheron’s arm. “Please, I’m trying to help you.”

Acheron punched at him. “Get off me!”

Break the whore in for the rest of us.…

Pass him this way.…

Styxx cringed as those phrases shouted at him from Acheron’s scrambled mind. No wonder his brother was so upset. He had the same flashbacks and nightmares that haunted him, too. Worse, Acheron’s memories were similar to what Xan had said to Estes after they’d raped Styxx the first time. No matter what he did, the jeers of those who’d violated him and then laughed and gloated about it would return to torture him.

He laid his head down on Acheron’s shoulder and tried to comfort him. “Shh, brother. I know your pain.”

“You know nothing of my pain! When has anyone ever spurned you,
Highness
?”

You and Ryssa both have
.
Constantly.

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.