The Dark-Hunters (540 page)

Acheron cried out as the lashes cut ever deeper.

The crowd cheered his beating. Repressed memories tore through him even sharper than the lashes. He was again in Estes’s home, surrounded by people, pulling at him, grabbing him, calling for his submission and humiliation. How many times had he been jeered at? Laughed at and mocked?

“Beg me for mercy, whore…”
His uncle’s voice was loud and clear.

Acheron locked gaze with Artemis. How could she do this to him? How?

Artemis inwardly flinched at the torment and pain in those swirling silver eyes. They accused her as if she were in the wrong. She’d warned him what would happen if he told anyone. Did he think for one minute that she’d been joking?

“I gave you everything,” she growled at him, making sure that only Acheron could see or hear her. “Everything!”

He lowered his head before he whispered in the lowest of tones. “I loved you.”

Artemis shrieked in outrage that he’d dare say that to her after what he’d done this day. If anyone found out that she’d allowed him to touch her, she’d be ruined. Did he think his paltry love would ease her humiliation? Her ruination? Was it love to drag her down to be ridiculed alongside him?

“Hit harder!” she urged the guard. “I want his blood covering the floor of my temple.”

That would teach him!

“You are nothing to me, human,” she sneered in his ear. “Nothing.”

Acheron let his tears flow as Artemis abandoned him. There was no need to beg for her forgiveness or mercy when it was obvious she had none where he was concerned. More than that, he felt her rip away his ability to fight. She took everything from him.

Unable to bear the pain, he surrendered himself to unconsciousness. But it was short-lived as they revived him to beat him more.

On his third session, he opened his eyes to find his father and Styxx standing in front of him. “Where’s your goddess, maggot?”

He looked to Ryssa whose face was pale and drawn. He saw the guilt in her gaze as tears streamed down her cheeks.

“I have no goddess.” He had no one and he knew it. “Just geld me and get it over with.”

But they didn’t. Instead they beat him until he lost count of the lashes. Drifting in and out of consciousness, he wasn’t sure when the beating finally stopped. He could feel nothing but the searing pain on his back.

Still there was no mercy for him. They left him tied before the altar where the crowd could add their own blows to him in defense of their beloved goddess.

For three days, Acheron hung there with no food or comfort. The closest he had was to see Merus approach him.

The boy stopped before him with a frown. “I thought you were a nobleman. You lied to us.” His eyes angry, he picked up a rock from the floor and threw it at Acheron. It caught him on the chest.

Leaning his head back, Acheron stared up at the gilded ceiling. “Why!” he shouted at the gods. Why had they done this to him? Why was this his fate?

He’d been born a prince. He should be honored as such and instead, he was nothing. Surely he must be cursed. There was no other reason for this life. No reason for his suffering. And in that instant he hated everything on this planet. Everyone.

With a battle cry born of desperation and torment, he fought against his chains. But there was no one to care and no way to break free. All he succeeded in doing was reopening the wounds on his back and making new ones on his wrists. In the end, it only hurt him more.

So he stayed until the evening of the third day. The guards returned to free him, but before they did, his head was shaved and Artemis’s double bow symbol was branded into his skull.

Acheron laughed at the irony. Her name had been branded into his heart before this and now he publicly wore the symbol of a goddess who would never again acknowledge him. The cruelty of it was unbearable.

Once they were finished, he was taken out to the street where a horse waited. His hands were tied in front of him so that the horse could drag him all the back to the palace. By the time he reached it, there was little to no skin left on his body.

Barely conscious, he was taken to his room and thrown inside it. Acheron took one step and fell to his knees. Too weak to move, he sprawled across the floor. But at least the stone was cool against his wounds, even though it made them throb.

There would be no Artemis to help him this time. No goddess to offer him succor or refuge.

“You are nothing to me, human.”
Those words would be forever etched in his heart.

So be it.

Closing his eyes, he had no hope for the future. No will to ever recover or move forward. His sister and his lover had shattered him for the last time. There were some betrayals no amount of apology could rectify and this time, Acheron had hit his limit.

There was nothing more they could do to hurt him. Soul sick, he crawled deep inside himself and swore that he’d never again open himself up to anyone.

SEPTEMBER
2, 9528
BC

Artemis sat alone on her chaise, wanting to weep. Apollo had told every god on Olympus about Acheron and his claim to be her consort.

They’d all been laughing at her ever since.

“You should gut him on the floor of your temple,” Zeus had said to her last night while she was visiting his hall.

Apollo had scoffed. “Can’t. His life is tied to his twin brother and they both die, which would ruin my fun for a while. But it’s hysterical what lies these humans tell.”

Aphrodite had rolled her eyes. “I can’t imagine a whore thinking he could claim a relationship with Artemis of all the gods. Has anyone checked his mental state?”

“He’s definitely insane,” Apollo had said. “I knew it the first time I saw him.”

After that, Artemis hadn’t gone near any of the others. But even worse than their laughter was the sick lump in her stomach over the pain she knew Acheron was in.

He deserves it.

It was true. His betrayal deserved a painful death and yet all she wanted to do was hold him. She missed the way he made her feel. The taste of his lips …

When he was with her, she smiled all the time. There was something about him that made her happy. Nothing else really mattered except the two of them.

He betrayed you.

That was something she couldn’t forgive. He’d made her a laughingstock. The only saving grace was the fact that none of the others believed his claims.

Yet even so, all she wanted was to go to him …

*   *   *

“Artemis, I summon you to human form.” Ryssa held her breath inside Artemis’s temple, afraid the goddess would ignore her. She glanced about, making sure again that she was all alone. “Goddess, please hear my call and come to me. I need to see you.”

A shimmery haze appeared to the right of the altar. Ryssa smiled as the mist thickened to form an incredibly beautiful redhead. Artemis’s features were very similar to Apollo’s, except the goddess’s face was more finely boned.

“What do you want, human?”

“I’m here on behalf of Acheron.”

Artemis’s eyes flamed with anger. “I know no one by that name.” She began to fade.

“No please … It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t tell anyone. I did.”

Artemis rematerialized as those words ripped through her. She glared at the petite blond beauty who carried her brother’s child. “What?”

Ryssa took a step forward, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Acheron has never once breathed a word about you to anyone, not even me. I saw the bite wound on his neck and I knew it had to be you. Please, if I was wrong, then forgive me. But if I’m right, I didn’t want you to be angry at him for something he didn’t do.”

Artemis glared at her swollen stomach. “You better be glad you carry my brother’s son. It’s the only reason you’re still alive. You ever link my name to Acheron’s again and by the River Styx I will have your hide mounted on my temple wall.”

Artemis flashed herself away, but she stopped herself before she returned to Olympus. In truth, her heart was singing over the fact that he hadn’t betrayed her. Her Acheron had been true …

Relieved, she went to see him.

Naked, he was lying on the floor of his room in front of his bed. She frowned at the sight of his bald head and the savage wounds that were still carved all over his body. But the one that appeared most painful was her own symbol that was still raw on the back of his skull.

“Acheron?”

He opened his eyes, but didn’t speak.

She reached to heal him. Before she could touch him, he caught her wrist in his hand. His grip surprised her. She wouldn’t have thought he’d have such strength in this condition. “I want nothing from you.”

“I thought you’d betrayed me.”

“I don’t break my word, Artemis. Ever.”

“How was I to know?”

He laughed bitterly. “What? You think a few lashes are enough to break me? You’re a goddess. How can you know so little?”

“You have no idea how hard it is to be a god. The sniveling voices that are always crying out for help for the smallest things. ‘I want a new pair of shoes. I want more grain at harvest.’ You learn to turn it off.”

“Those things may be petty to you, but to some humans even something as innocuous as one moment of peace can make all the difference in a life. One smile. One tiny act of kindness. That’s all it takes for us.”

“Well, I’m here with my kindness.”

Acheron scoffed. “I’m tired of being your pet, Artemis. I’ve nothing left inside to give you.”

His anger ignited her own. “You are a human. You don’t order me about.”

Acheron sighed. She was right. Who was he, a worthless maggot, to say anything to her? Besides, he was in no condition to argue with anyone. “Forgive me, akra. I forgot my place.”

She smiled and brushed a hand over his bald head. “That’s the Acheron I know.”

No, it wasn’t. This was the Acheron who was bought and sold. The hollowed-out shell who performed for the amusement of others, but who felt nothing inside. How pathetic that his heart meant so little to anyone, that she couldn’t even recognize the fact that it was missing.

Releasing her hand, he lay still as she healed him. For once he tolerated the pain.

Once done, she sat back to look at her handiwork and then grimaced. “Oh, this baldness has to go. I like your hair too much.”

It grew in perfectly and still Acheron didn’t move.

In a tiff, Artemis folded her arms over her chest. “Can you not at least say thank you to me for healing you?”

Given the fact that she was the reason he was beaten so badly, the mere thought of thanking her stuck in his throat. But then he was used to such things as this. “Thank you, akra.”

Like a child who was unaware she’d broken her favorite toy, she smiled in satisfaction. “We should hunt today.”

Acheron didn’t speak as she took him to her private forest and dressed him in red as if he was her doll and not a flesh-and-blood man. Her face was bright as she handed him a bow and quiver. He slung the quiver over his back without comment and followed her as she headed off in search of deer.

She chattered away about nothing in particular while he did as she asked, and tried his damnedest not to feel anything at all.

“You’re being awfully quiet,” she said once she realized he wasn’t participating in her conversation.

“Forgive me, akra. What would you like me to say?”

“Whatever’s on your mind.”

“There’s nothing on my mind.”

She huffed at him. “Nothing? You have no thoughts whatsoever?”

He shook his head.

“How can this be?” She stuck her bottom lip out petulantly. “You’re trying to punish me, aren’t you?”

He kept all emotion out of his voice, especially the anger he bore her. “I would never seek to punish you, Goddess. It’s not my place.”

She grabbed him by his hair, making him grimace before she forced him to meet her gaze. “What is wrong with you?”

Acheron took a deep breath as he braced himself for what was to come. One thing he’d learned while living with his uncle, lust overrode anger. She might still beat him later, but if he pleased her enough the punishment wouldn’t be as severe.

Stepping closer, he kissed her.

Sure enough, she loosened the grip in his hair and melted in his arms. Strange, he felt more like a whore in this moment than he’d ever felt before and he didn’t understand why.

Perhaps because he shouldn’t have to use his body to bargain with someone he’d given his heart to. Yet here he was, using his touch to lighten her anger … as always.

Disgusted with himself, he offered her his neck and died the death of a coward as she took it.

But what else could he do? It was either fuck or be beaten. Though to be honest, he could no longer tell which of the two was the most painful for him. One left scars on his body.

The other scarred his soul.

SEPTEMBER
14, 9528
BC

Acheron sat on the railing of his balcony, drinking. He was mystified at how Artemis had managed to make him feel so unclean and yet as the days passed by he felt more and more like what his uncle had made him.

“Brother?”

He leaned his head back to see Ryssa approaching him. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m in so much pain from the baby. Could you please do that thing you do that makes me feel better?”

He snorted at words that could so easily be misconstrued. Thank the gods his father hadn’t heard it. “It’s called a massage.”

“Can you do it?”

“Sure.” Like everything else, he’d been well schooled in every muscle of the human body and taught how to loosen and please it. Sliding off the railing, he had her sit down on the floor and lean forward so that he could ease the tension in her back.

“Mmm,” she breathed. “That is the most magical thing you do.”

Not really. He was just glad to be able to use it on someone who wasn’t going to turn around and start humping him over it. “You’re really tense.”

“I can’t get comfortable. I’m aching all over.”

“Just breathe then. I’ll get the knots out and you’ll feel a lot better.” He went down to the pressure point and dug his nail in.