Styxx (DH #33) (60 page)

“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.”

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.

*   *   *

H
ours 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.”

Bethany’s stomach churned over their cruelty as she headed down the hallway they’d come from. She knew who they’d been talking about and it sliced her like a thousand knives.
How could I have left him to this?

Alone and unprotected.

All around her prisoners cried and begged for mercy or food as a guard ladled water into misshapen or broken bowls and then shoved them through small cutouts at the bottom of the locked doors.

“Where’s Styxx of Didymos?”

The guard quirked a brow at her. He spat on the ground by his feet then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he gave her a speculative glare. “There’s a fee for that information, and the fee depends on what it is you want to do to him.”

“Talk to him.”

He laughed. “No one
talks
to him, girl. I’m not stupid. And I can’t let you bleed him. He has a fight today and I have money bet on it.”

She rose up in her god form to tower over the little weasel. “Where is he?” she snarled.

He shrank back in fear. “Forgive me, goddess. I didn’t realize it was one of you wanting him again. He’s there.” He gestured to a door on the right.

Grabbing the water bucket from him, she went to the door and opened it. But what she found inside froze her to the spot as it drove horror straight into her heart.

Completely naked and filthy to an inhuman level, Styxx was chained like an animal. He had a thick iron collar around his neck that had a huge chain connected to it. A chain that ran to iron cuffs on his wrists and ankles. The chains went from him to a system of pulleys by the door that determined how much freedom he was allowed in the room. She winced as she remembered how badly he hated to be bound by anything.

Even a frail, light scarf.

Blood, dirt, cuts, and bruises covered his entire body. Tears choked her. His beautiful blond hair was greasy and filthy and matted with blood and dirt.

Styxx wrapped his hand in the chains that held him as he saw his latest “visitor” entering his dark cell. Still raw and bleeding from the last two, he only wanted a few minutes to lie in the darkness and try to forget what they’d done to him.

But the greedy bastards wouldn’t allow him even a moment’s peace.

At least this one was a petite blond woman who appeared unarmed. Because Atlantean women lacked the strength and stamina of their men, he much preferred their torture. Usually they were content to slap or scratch, or spit on him. They were only really dangerous when they were armed.

As the door closed behind her, he sprang into a feral crouch so that he could watch her and see what foul game she wanted to play. His head spun from pain and hunger. Shaking his head, he forced himself to stay focused and sharp.

He had to.

Bethany wanted to weep as those beautiful blue eyes locked with hers. For a moment, she thought she’d vomit as she saw the insanity inside him. They had reduced him to a rabid animal. And worse was the knowledge that Epithymia had kissed him, and as such, had given him a truly unearthly allure now. Even filthy, he made her heart quicken and desire tear through her. Not that she wouldn’t have felt it anyway. But she knew her cousin’s sick touch.

“Styxx?”

He growled at her, backing away, deeper into the shadows.

Moving slow and easy, she held the water bucket out toward him. Still, he retreated from her.

Bethany placed it within his reach and then stepped to the door.

Only then did he approach it … on all fours like a beaten dog. He was so wary and skittish, it broke her heart. He kept his gaze on her as if waiting for her to hurt him as he inched his way to the bucket. He sniffed it carefully then dipped his fingers into the water so that he could taste a few drops. Satisfied it was untainted, he expelled an elongated breath. Those blue eyes didn’t waver from her as he cupped his hand and took a drink as if he hadn’t had any water for days. There was no refinement to him at all as he drank fast and furiously.