Styxx (DH #33) (61 page)

Someone coughed in the hallway.

He shot away from the bucket, back into the cell’s corner, where he crouched, ready to fight.

Bethany manifested a loaf of bread. Holding it out for him, she approached him slowly. This time she got close enough to see the ragged scratches and cuts on his face. The blood and dirt matted in his beard. The deep and ugly healing wounds from weapons, fangs and claws on his arms, legs, chest, abdomen and back.

As badly as his body had been scarred before, it was nothing compared to what she saw now. Did they not allow him any armor in the arena?

From the look of his body, he must fight against his opponents completely naked …

“I won’t hurt you,” she said gently. She tore a piece of bread for him. “Here.”

The suspicion in his gaze shredded her conscience. Even though she heard his stomach rumbling from hunger, he refused to take her bread.

When she was almost close enough to touch him and he’d reached the limit of his chains, his eyes flared with anger.

“It’s all right.” She got rid of the bread and held her necklace up for him to see it. “Do you want it back?”

The moment his gaze focused on it, a single tear slid down his filthy, swollen cheek.

And that succeeded in wringing a sob from her. “Give me your arm and I’ll return it to you.”

Styxx hesitated before he obeyed and scooted close enough for her to reach only his wrist. He held out his scarred right hand that he still couldn’t open all the way from when the Thracians had attacked him and pinned it to the ground with a dagger.

Ignoring the scars, scabs, and bruises on his forearm, she wound it about his wrist and secured it.

He crawled back to his corner and sat in a tight ball, clutching his good hand over her necklace as if it was a priceless treasure.

This time when she approached him, he didn’t move. He sat rigid, his breathing ragged as he continued to rub her necklace with his ravaged fingers.

“What have they done to you?” she breathed, reaching to brush his hair back from his battered face. Given his condition, the more appropriate question was probably what had they
not
done to him.

He closed his eyes and held his arms over his head as if he expected her to slap or claw him. And he kept his good hand locked over her necklace to protect it.

And that broke her heart even more. Wanting to comfort him, she traced the line of his jaw.

“Don’t.” His ragged whisper surprised her.

“Don’t what?”

His eyes filled with tears, but none fell as he glanced away.

Her fury mounted. She wasn’t about to leave him here to be treated like this. Rising to her feet, she blasted away the chains that held him. Instead of being relieved, he scrambled away to try and find something to protect himself with. His eyes wild, he searched the room with his gaze.

That only made her madder. As bad as Apollo had behaved, her own pantheon had traumatized him worse than anything imaginable.

Damn them all!

She held her hand out toward Styxx. “I won’t hurt you. Bethany sent me.”

For a moment he calmed then he shook his head as agony refilled his gaze. “You’re lying.”

“I swear, I’m not. Take my hand and I’ll get you out of here.”

Styxx knew better. He was only allowed outside for deplorable things. Better to be tortured and raped in private than out in the arena for everyone to see and cheer. Nothing good ever happened outside of this place. ’Course nothing good ever happened
inside
either.

But at least in here, he was sometimes left alone.

She reached for him.

He recoiled and glanced to the door he knew was locked. Or worse, it wasn’t, and if he went into the hall they’d throw him down and cage him then haul him into the arena to fight until they beat him down and punished him again.

“Take my hand. I promise I’ll take you away from this.”

But he wasn’t stupid or naive—they’d beat that out of him a long time ago. “And go where?”

“Where I can heal you before I send you home.”

Bullshit. He was never going home again, and at this point, he no longer wanted to. If his father ever found out about this …

No. He just wanted them to kill him. Yet even that was asking for a mercy no god was willing to extend.

Bethany’s eyes teared up at the suspicion in those celestial blue eyes.
How could I have allowed them to do this to you? How could I say I loved you and not have bothered to check on you, at all?

Guilt tore through her. “You can trust me.”

He scoffed at her words as if they were bitter to him. But with no real choice, he finally placed his hand in hers.

Bethany took him to her temple on Katateros. Summoning a formesta, she wrapped it around his battered and bruised body.

Styxx held his breath as the goddess gently urged him to follow her to an indoor atrium that had a huge pool in the center of it.

“Would you like me to help you bathe?”

He shook his head. He didn’t want anyone to touch him.

“Very well. I’ll be right back with food.”

His stomach knotted with dread and hunger, he glanced around, waiting for it to be another trick. Somehow it had to be …

But that steaming water looked so inviting. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a real bath and not buckets of ice-cold water dumped on top of him. He started away from it, but the temptation to get some of the filth off his body was too great.

Either way, they’re going to fuck me
. At least let him have a little comfort before the next violent round began. Slowly and with great trepidation, he made his way to the stairs that led down into the warm, steamy salt water.

He tested the step, expecting it to give way or for something to come out of the water and attack him. But nothing happened. Taking a deep breath, he dropped the formesta and tentatively entered the pool.

He’d barely begun to relax when the woman returned.

Styxx made his way to the far end of the pool, and backed up so that he could keep her in his line of sight and his spine and hand against the tile. Just in case.

Bethany blinked away tears as she saw the way he continued to watch her as if expecting an attack. She set the tray of food down not far from him then she went to get bathing implements.

When she returned with them, she noticed that the only thing he’d taken to eat was an apple. One he scrubbed and inspected very carefully. He put it in his teeth to hold it while he kept one hand on the edge of the pool and the other free.

She uncovered the canisters to show him the soaps, oils, and lotions. Then she picked up the razor and mirror and left them for him. She backed away to sit on her white chaise.

Only then did he continue to eat his apple. All the while his gaze would only leave her so that he could randomly search the shadows from time to time.

When he finished with his single apple, he placed the core on the tray and took the razor.

Fascinated, she watched him shave without using a mirror. She’d never seen a man do that before. But as he cleaned himself, he uncovered evidence of what had been done to him. Fresh scars and bruises and injuries in places that made her want to hunt down those who’d hurt him and make them pay for it.

She conjured him a towel and fresh clothes.

When she started for him, he shot to the opposite side of the pool.

“It’s just a towel, pants, and a formesta.” She set them down and backed away again.

Only then did he leave the pool.

While he dressed, Bethany averted her gaze from his back, which was a bleeding, bruised mess of injuries and fresh scars. Those bastards. How could they have tortured him like this?

When she returned her gaze to him, he had a deep frown on his face as he studied her emblem on the back of the formesta. “What’s wrong?”

“Is this you?” he asked through clenched teeth.

“Yes.”

Anger and panic darkened his eyes as he dropped the formesta and looked for an escape.

“It’s all right.”

His breathing intensified. “You hate me. You’ve tried to kill me repeatedly. You set a bounty for my head.”

“No … I mean, I did. But I don’t.”

That only confused him more.

“It’s the same emblem on your necklace that Bethany gave you. Look at it.”

He did and his scowl returned.

“I’m her patron goddess. I didn’t know you were her Hector. Had I known, I would never have tried to hurt you. I swear it to you, Styxx.”

Tears filled his eyes as he caressed her necklace. “Do you know how she fares? Is she well?”

“She is.”

Swallowing hard, he let go of the necklace and picked up the formesta. His movements were so slow and pain-filled that it wrung her heart. This wasn’t the graceful warrior and lover she’d known. This was someone who’d been beaten to the brink of death and kept as an animal for far too long.

“Would you like something else to eat?”

His hungry gaze made her own stomach cramp in sympathetic pain. But he shook his head.

Then she realized why. “It’s not drugged.” Getting up, she went and took a bite of the food herself. Next she poured the wine and tasted it for him.

Even so, he didn’t take it.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I’ve already fallen for that trick. You’ll have to think of a new one.” It was only then she realized he still had the razor tucked into his hand as he watched her warily as if waiting for her to turn on him. “Are you going to rape me, too?”

She winced at his question. “No.”

His eyes accused her of treachery and lies. But the worst was the agony and exhaustion she saw in the depths of his crystal gaze as he continued to search out every shadow. “I’m not stupid. I know you didn’t bring me here and clean me up to be nice. Where are the others?”

“There are no others.”

“Don’t lie to me,” he snarled. “You only clean me up when you’re going to pass me around. I’d rather you get on with it than pretend to be kind.” His gaze returned to the shadows. “Is Archon or Asteros watching? Ydor?”

She winced at the confirmation that her family was every bit as depraved as the Greeks. “There’s no trickery or treachery, Styxx. I swear.”

But he wasn’t about to believe her, and honestly, she couldn’t blame him. He’d been abandoned by his family. His gods.

And her
.

Right now he needed to rest. Yet she knew he wouldn’t relax after what they’d done to him. How could he? They had put him through horrors that no one should suffer.

And she couldn’t send him home until she found out what Apollo was doing in Didymos. How he was keeping Styxx’s imprisonment a secret from his ever-neglectful family.

So she used her powers to lull him until he
was
drugged.

“Put the razor down, Styxx.”

He hesitated before he obeyed.

“Take my hand.”

Again, he tried to fight it, but couldn’t. In the end, he placed his hand into hers and she pulled him to her bedroom. Even though he couldn’t resist or fight her wishes, she felt his panic as he feared her intent. She pulled the formesta off his shoulders and tucked him into her bed.

She leaned over him and kissed his bruised cheek. “Sleep in peace, prince. No one is going to harm you.”

His breathing ragged, he fought it, but in the end, his eyes fluttered closed and he finally relaxed. While he slept, she heard his stomach rumbling in hunger.

Silent tears fell as she ran her hand over the new scars on his chest and arms. Over handprints, cuts, and bruises, both fresh and healing, that attested to the nightmare he’d been through.

Alone.

For Apollo to hand him over to his enemies, who wanted vengeance not only against him, but against his people …

What had made the rotten bastard do something so cold?

In the end, she blamed herself for all of this. She’d walked away from him and gone on with her life.

That wasn’t entirely true. She’d missed him every minute of every day, which was why she hadn’t checked on him. She’d been too afraid to see him again. Because in her heart, she’d known that if she saw him, she wouldn’t be able to leave him alone.

And she’d been right.

This had been the hardest year of her life. Every day she’d gotten up thinking it would be easier and instead, it’d been harder. Knowing he was out there and she couldn’t go to him …

It’d been pure hell.

Against her common sense, she tucked herself into bed and snuggled up to the only man she’d ever loved. And with every glimpse of his injuries, she hated herself for allowing this to happen to him.

He would never have willingly left her to such a fate. Never willingly have walked out of her life for any reason …

She was a goddess. She’d known how alone he was, and what had she done?

Left him unprotected in a world that hated him.

“I am so sorry, Styxx.” But that changed nothing about the horrors he’d endured and survived because of her heartless neglect. “I will make this right for you. Whatever it takes.” She had no idea how, though. Apollo would be furious when he found out that she’d taken possession of Styxx. Technically, he still owned him.

And knowing that her own pantheon had participated in Styxx’s abuse …

That they had allowed him to be held here and tortured for entertainment.

It was enough to make her side with Apollymi.
Damn you all for this!
How could they be so incredibly callous?

One thing was certain, she had no intention of helping them hunt down Apostolos. They could all burn for what she cared.

They deserved it for what they’d done to a decent man whose only crime had been fighting for his own people in a war hers had started.

Bethany wrapped her arms around him, wishing she could erase everything from his memory. But she didn’t have those powers.

And for the first time in a year, she was finally happy again as his spicy, masculine scent and the warmth of his long, hard body lulled her. All she wanted was to hear him say what he used to say whenever they had a long separation,
“I missed you with every beat of my heart.”