Acheron (Dark-Hunter #14)

Acheron (Dark-Hunter #14) Page 13

"Then I shall watch as it's measured again."

The vendor's face turned bright red as he poured the flour out and showed him that it was indeed short of the mark. Cursing under his breath, the vendor added more until it reached the correct weight. There was malice in his gaze for Merus once he had the sack resealed and shoved it toward the boy.

"Merus?" Acheron said, keeping his gaze locked on the vendor who couldn't see his face.

The boy looked up at him. "Yes, my lord?"

"Should you ever find your ya ya cheated again or should anyone here ever hurt you, I want you to go to the palace and ask for Princess Ryssa. Tell her Acheron sent you and she'll make sure that you're treated fairly and that anyone who hurts you is punished for it."

His eyes lit up even as the vendor's darkened. "Thank you, my lord."

His grandmother placed a gentle hand on Acheron's forearm. "May the gods bless you for your kindness, my lord. Truly, you are an asset to this world. Thank you."

Her words touched his heart and brought a lump to his throat. If only they were true. But they weren't and the old woman would recoil in horror if she knew what she was touching the arm of. "May the gods be with you," he breathed quietly before he started away from them.

He hadn't gone far before Merus came running up to him.

"My lord?"

It was so strange to have someone address him like that. "Yes?"

"I know we're beneath you, my lord, but my ya ya wanted me to ask you if you'd take bread with us so that she can thank you for your kindness. I know she's blind, but she's a wonderful cook. We bake bread for the baker who sells it to the king and his court."

Acheron looked back to where the old woman stood proudly even though she couldn't see any of the activity bustling around her. Beneath him . . . If the child only knew what he really was, he'd be shunning him like everyone else.

They both would.

Still, Acheron hesitated. He should go before they learned the truth of him, but he didn't want to insult them and make them feel as low as people made him feel.

So instead he nodded. "I should like that very much, Merus. Thank you for asking."

The boy smiled, then led him back to where his grandmother waited at the edge of the market.

"He's with me, Ya Ya."

The kind lines of her face crinkled as she smiled and spoke in the opposite direction from where he stood. "Thank you, my lord. It might not be as fancy as you're used to, but I promise you you've never tasted better."

"We're over here, Ya Ya."

Her cheeks pinkened. "Forgive me, my lord. I fear I'm a little directionally inept."

"I don't mind." He took the packages from Merus that the boy was holding. "I'll carry these if you wish to help your ya ya home." He was amazed at how heavy the load was for the child.

Beaming, Merus took his grandmother's hand and led her through the crowd.

"My name is Eleni, my lord."

"Please, just call me Acheron. I live at the palace, but I'm no one of any importance."

"He looks important, Ya Ya. He's got very nice clothes and shoes, and he's really, really tall."

She tsked at her grandson. "It's not nice to contradict people, Merus. Remember what I've told you. Looks can often deceive you. A poor man can don the robes of a prince and a prince can be shoeless in the street. We judge people by what their actions are, not by the clothes they wear." Her smile was one of complete serenity. "And by Lord Acheron's actions today, we know him to be noble and kind."

Acheron paused as her words touched him deeply. Never in his life had he felt like anything other than a whore, yet here, with two people who were dressed in rags, he felt like a king. It was such a foreign sensation that he actually lifted his chin a degree.

Merus opened the door to a small house that was nestled among a row of them. Acheron had to almost bend double to fit through the short doorway as he followed the two of them inside. The main room was small and crowded, but it felt like home. There was an energy to the place that let him know Merus and Eleni were very happy here together.

However, it made him appreciate how much space he needed in order to move. The rafters were so low, he'd almost given himself a concussion two seconds after he'd entered.

"Are you all right, Lord Acheron?" Merus asked.

Acheron nodded without moving his hand away from his forehead that throbbed from its collision with the wood.

"What happened?" Eleni asked in a panicked tone.

"As I said, Lord Acheron is extremely tall. He banged his head on the ceiling."

Eleni's eyes widened. She approached him with her hand waving in front of her.

Acheron took her hand in his and put it on his shoulder so that she could tell just how tall he was.

"Oh, my gracious," she breathed. "You are huge. Like one of the gods."

Yet another thing that made him a freak to normal people-it'd also made Estes and Catera a lot of money since those who were shorter liked the feeling of power they had over someone his size.

Moving with a grace that was unfathomable to him, Eleni crossed the floor as if she could see every item in it and pulled out a chair for him. "Best you sit, my lord. I can only imagine how stifling our tiny home must seem to you."

"Not at all," he said honestly. Though he was fearful of colliding with more objects, he rather liked her peaceful home.

"Fetch us some milk, Merus."

The boy ran out the door.

Acheron watched as she went to her stove and stoked the fire there effortlessly. He was amazed at how she knew where everything was. There were no missteps or burns.

"My lord?" she asked as she pulled a knife from its holder. "May I ask you a prying question?"

"If you wish."

"Why are you so sad?"

He started to deny it, but why? She didn't know him and he didn't know her. Honestly, he was stunned that she could pick up on his mood without any visual clues. "How can you tell?"

"The sound of your voice when you speak. I hear the weight of sadness in it and a strong lilt of Atlantean."

She was unerringly astute as she cut, then placed bread on a stone trencher to warm. "Is it the loss of a person who saddens you?"

His gut knotted at the thought of Artemis. "A friend."

"Then I weep with you," she said, her tone comforting. "I've lost many friends over the years, and my children. Loss is always hard. But I have Merus and I take so much pride in his growth. He's such a fine boy. You've no idea how much a son means to his parents. I'm sure yours must smile every time they look upon you."

Unable to bear the wounds she opened, Acheron stood. "I should probably be going."

She looked stricken. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No." He didn't want her to feel bad when her intent had been to comfort him. It wasn't her fault that the only person who loved him was his sister and that his parents had both cursed him since the moment of his birth. "I was headed toward the stadium for a play when I stopped in the market. I should go before I miss anymore of it."

She took his hand in hers, then froze as her fingers touched his slave's brand. Her grip tightened. "You're a slave?"

He felt his face heat as humiliation washed over him. He wanted to curse at her accidental discovery. "I was. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come here."

But she didn't release him. She covered his hand with her other one and offered him a smile of friendship. "Take your cloak off and sit, Acheron. You've done nothing to apologize for. I admire you all the more for stopping to help us. It's nothing for a nobleman to do so, yet they seldom bother to help those less fortunate. For a freedman to speak up in defense of another takes great courage and character. What you did is all the more noble and kind, and I would be honored to have you sit at my table with us."

Acheron couldn't breathe as emotions gathered to tighten his throat. He wasn't used to anyone complimenting him outside of a bed. "Thank you."

Smiling, she patted his hand before she let him go. "You know, my father used to tell me all the time when I was a child that when we first meet someone we never recall later what was said or what they wore. What we remember most is how that person made us feel. You made my grandson feel important by defending him and you've made me eternally grateful for that selfless act. Thank you, child."

And the two of them had given him dignity. She was right. He'd remember that always.

Merus returned with a clay jug, breathless. "I've plenty of milk, Ya Ya. Is the bread ready?"

"Almost, dearest." She took the milk from him and poured it into cups for them.

Merus brought a cup for Acheron and set it before him. "Have you fought many battles, my lord?"

He lowered his cowl to smile at the innocent question. "No, Merus. None, and please, just call me Acheron."

"It's all right, akribos," Eleni said gently. "Acheron doesn't like titles."

Merus got his own cup and then ran back to the table with it. He climbed up on the chair next to Acheron. "Can you fight with a sword?"

"Not at all."

"Oh . . ." he looked disappointed by that. "So what do you do?"

"Merus," his grandmother chided. "We don't interrogate our guests." She shook her head. "Forgive him, Acheron. He's only seven and still learning."

"He doesn't bother me. I'm nineteen and still learning."

Merus squealed with laughter.

Eleni brought the bread to the table and set it before Acheron along with a jar of honey and butter. "You have a most generous spirit. That is rare in this day and age."

Merus scratched his ear as if he was confused by his grand-mother's words. "But what if he's not what he seems? You always tell me that people sometimes put on masks and we don't know what's inside them."

Eleni ruffled his hair. "You're right, scamp. We can never really see into the hearts of others. When I wasn't much older than you, my father used to charge my brothers for their room and board. Everyone thought he was mean to do such a thing to his own children. My brothers hated him for it."

"For being poor?" Acheron asked.

She shook her head. "No. My family actually had quite a bit of money because my father was a miser with every coin. People hated him for that too, yet what they didn't understand was that as a boy, he and his family been thrown out of their home for lack of coin. His baby sister, the one he loved more than anything, became ill from homelessness. She died of starvation in his arms and he swore then that no one he loved would ever die because of poverty again."

Acheron felt for the poor man. Having known such poverty himself, he could understand the man's reasoning. There was nothing worse than starving. Nothing worse than living on the street with no protection from the elements . . . or other people.

Merus cocked his head. "But why did he charge your brothers if he had plenty of money?"

Her features softened as she cupped his chubby face. "He was putting all that money aside for when my brothers were ready to wed."

"Why, Ya Ya?"

She still didn't lose patience with him. "Because you can't marry until you can afford a bride price and you must have a home to take your wife to. When my brothers found those wives, my father pulled out all the money they'd paid him over the years. He'd put it aside for them as savings so that each of my brothers had a small fortune to set up a household when they were old enough. In the end, he wasn't the mean person everyone thought him to be. What he did was for their benefit since it was money they would have squandered on foolishness. And it goes to show that we never know what's in the heart of people when we judge them. Actions that sometimes seem mean aren't. Rather they are done by the ones we love in order to protect us without our knowing it."

Merus held the plate of bread out to Acheron. "Ya Ya says that company gets first choice."

Acheron smiled before he took a piece and buttered it. "Thank you, Merus."

The boy served himself and then his grandmother. The normality of it all slammed into Acheron. Here he sat, with his head uncovered and neither of them reacted to him at all. There were no furtive, lustful glances that they were trying to conceal. No nervous movements.

He was just another person to them. Gods, how much that meant to him.

"You're right," he said after he swallowed his bread. "This is the best I've ever eaten."

Eleni lifted her chin in pride. "Thank you. I learned the art of it from my mother. She was the most skilled baker in all of Greece."

Acheron smiled. "Surely in all the world. I can't imagine anything better than this."

"Her pastries," Merus said around a mouthful of food. "They'll make you weep."

Acheron laughed. "I imagine a man would look rather strange weeping over food."

Merus smacked his lips. "Trust me, it's worth the humiliation."

Eleni ruffled his hair. "Eat up, child. You need to grow strong and tall, like Acheron."

Acheron didn't speak as he finished the bread. He delayed as long as he could, but all too soon he was done and it was time to leave.

"Thank you again," he said to them.

Eleni stood up with him. "Our pleasure, Acheron. Feel free to return anytime you'd like to try some of my pastries."

Merus grinned at him. "I'll have a hankie ready."

"I'm sure you will." Lifting his cowl, Acheron made sure to cover himself completely. "Good day to you."

"May the gods be with you."

If she only knew. Acheron carefully ducked out of the door and made his way back toward the hill where the palace was set. Strange, he'd set out to escape into the world of fantasy through the plot of a play and instead had his spirits lifted even higher by an unexpected encounter with real people. Eleni and Merus had given him more than an escape.

They'd given him normality. If only for a short while. And it meant everything to him. He felt better than he had in a long time.

At least until he returned home.

He hesitated in the foyer as he saw the large gathering of nobles and senate members who were accompanied by their families. Not that it should be that much of a surprise, but no one had told him there was to be a party.

Had he known, he'd have stayed locked in his room. His experience with such events had never gone well. Of course, in the past, he'd been the main attraction/fascination for all the guests. A chill swept over him as he remembered the times he'd been paraded around and pawed at before someone in the group threw him to the ground . . .

Pulling his cowl lower, he kept to the shadows as he made his way to the stairs. With any luck no one would approach him.

Yet as he drew even to the ballroom, his father's voice stopped him dead.

"Thank you all for coming to celebrate with me. It's not every day that a king is so blessed."

Acheron crept closer to the doors to see his father on a dais. Ryssa stood to his left with Apollo by her side. The god's arm was wrapped possessively around her shoulders. Styxx was to his father's right. He held hands with a tall, beautiful dark-haired woman.

"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."

A bitter jealousy tore through him as he listened. It stung so deep in his heart that it was all he could do not to lower his cowl and call out to his father that he did indeed have another son. But to what purpose?

His father would only deny him and then have him beaten for the affront and embarrassment.

Anger overrode the jealousy as his father proudly 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 everyone except Acheron who couldn't breathe from the weight of agony and rejection.

I am the eldest . . .

"You are a deformed whore and a slave." Estes's voice echoed from his past. "You don't speak unless you're addressed. You are never to look anyone in the face. You should be grateful I even tolerate you in my house. Now get on your knees and please me."

Acheron wanted to die as shame filled him. His father was right. There was nothing about him worth loving and definitely nothing that warranted any kind of pride. Hanging his head, he made his way up the stairs and to his bedroom.

His heart heavy, he lowered the cowl, grateful there was no mirror here to remind him of why he deserved nothing save the scorn of decent people.

"Acheron?"

He froze at the whisper behind him. "What do you want, Artemis?"

"I want my friend back."

Acheron closed his eyes against the tears that he hid inside himself. He wanted so desperately to have value to someone. Anyone. Not for what he earned for them, but because they cared for him.

Artemis moved to stand just behind him. So close he could feel her presence as if they were touching. "I've missed you."

He wanted to rail at her. To scream out how much he hated what she'd done to him.

To beg her not to ever hurt him again.

But what was the use? All humans were the playthings of the gods. He was only a little closer to one than the others.

"Am I forgiven then?" he asked, hating himself for the subservient question.

"Yes." She pressed herself to his back and wrapped her arms around him.

Grinding his teeth, he forced himself not to stiffen or shove her away. "Thank you."

Artemis wanted to weep at the joy she felt. She had her Acheron back . . . She couldn't believe how much she'd missed him. How afraid she'd been of his rejection.

Most of all, she wanted him to know how glad she was to have his friendship returned. "I promise, I will never hurt you again."

Acheron didn't believe that for one instant. She'd shattered his trust the moment she'd taken him by the hair, knowing how much he despised it. Knowing how demeaning that action was for him.

He'd have rather she just tossed coins in his face and walked out.

She pulled him against her and kissed him like a lover. He returned the kiss with all the passion of someone who'd been paid for it. How sad that she couldn't tell the difference between a kiss he felt and one that was born of obligation. Then again, he was the best whore money could buy.

When she moved back, he saw the joy in her gaze. How he wished he felt it too.

"You'll never again doubt my affection," she breathed against his lips.

Acheron didn't respond as she dropped to her knees in front of him. He frowned in confusion until she ran her hand down his cock before she guided the tip of it into her mouth. Gasping in shock and pleasure, he almost staggered back. No one had ever done this to him before.

His job was to please. It wasn't to have others, especially not a goddess, pleasure him. All the anger inside him evaporated under the assault of her tongue on his body. He'd never felt like this before . . . never dreamed of just how good this would be. Her hand stroked and cupped his sac while her warm breath scorched him. The love for her that he'd buried and denied came back with a fury so intense it sent him into an immediate orgasm.

Artemis pulled back, sputtering as she quickly covered him with the skirt of his chiton. "That is so disgusting. How can anyone enjoy that?"

Acheron couldn't answer as he clutched himself while his body continued to finish what she'd started.

She looked up at him with a hesitant smile as she licked her lips. "You enjoyed that, didn't you?"

"Yes," he said, his voice ragged.

"Am I forgiven?"

Acheron ran his thumb over her lower lip where a trace of his seed was left. Her gaze unwavering, she flicked her tongue over the pad of his finger to taste it. The sight of her doing that . . . the sensation of her hot tongue on his skin was the most incredible thing he'd ever experienced.

Drained and sated, all he could do was nod.

Her smiled widened as she stood up and pulled him in for another kiss. The next thing he knew, they were in her temple bedroom and he was completely naked. She nipped his lips, brushing her hands over his chest. "Make love to me, Acheron."

Her words sent a wash of frigid cold through him. "I don't want to be beaten today, Artie. I've suffered enough shame this afternoon."

Laughing, she pulled his head down so that she could kiss him roughly, nipping his skin until he feared he'd be bruised. "I won't beat you. Promise." She took his hand and led him to her bed. She rolled onto her back and jerked him over her naked body.

Still Acheron was uncertain.

Artemis rolled him over onto his back. She was relentless in her demands and his body did exactly what it'd been trained to do . . . it hardened for her.

Closing his eyes, he wished he'd been neutered as a child. His life would have been infinitely easier.

As she slid herself onto him, he wondered how it could be that a goddess couldn't tell what was inside him. That she had no idea how little he wanted this from her right now. Reserved and terrified of what abuse she'd deliver once she was finished, he pleased her as best he could.

By the time she was fully sated, his body was sore. Sliding off him, she sighed contentedly. She reached up toward his face and he turned his head quickly in expectation of a slap.

"What's wrong?"

He swallowed as she pulled a pillow over him and then tucked it under her head. "Nothing."

She propped herself up so that she could trace the lines of his face with her fingertips. "I think I shall keep you with me tonight."

Before he could answer a golden cuff surrounded his ankle. A chain at the end of it entwined itself around her bedpost. "What's that for?"

"To make sure you don't wander about while I sleep."

Acheron jerked his foot making the links jingle. It was all he could do to bury his anger and not shout in frustration. "I don't like this, Artemis. I'm not a dog to be chained outside your house because you're afraid I'll piss on your rug."

She tsked at him. "Don't be so contrary. It's for your own safety."

Brutally force feeding him had been for his own good too. He couldn't stand being chained down. More than anything else, it made him feel like a whore again. "Please don't do this to me. I promise I won't leave your bed while you sleep."

Artemis hesitated. She couldn't tell if he was still angry enough to strike back at her or not. For all she knew, he might march up to the hall of the gods just for spite.

Humans were treacherous that way.

But in the end, she decided to trust him. The chain fell away. "If you betray me, Acheron-"

"You'll make me suffer through all eternity. I know. I was listening to the threat the first time you uttered it."

"Good. Now be a good man and give me your neck."

He dutifully brushed his hair back, exposing the beauty of his tawny skin and the delectable curve of his throat.

Her mouth watering, she dipped her head down to taste him and this time she didn't withhold the pleasure of the bite. She let him feel it fully. Cradling her head against him, he came in her arms as she drank from him.

Satisfied, Artemis watched as his eyes fluttered closed. "You will be mine, Acheron, for as long as your beauty holds. I will share you with no one else. Ever."

She would sooner see him dead.

April 3, 9528 BC

Acheron was slowly learning to trust in Artemis again. Either that or he was just becoming a more obedient pet. There were times when he wasn't sure which category he fell into.

She came to him when she was bored or hungry and ignored him when she had other obligations.

But at least she'd kept her word not to hit him anymore. In fact he hadn't been hurt in weeks now since Artemis kept him out of his father's way, too.

He currently sat in her temple, on the white chaise that was set in the middle of her receiving room. One of her maids had called her away and she'd sealed him inside before she left. Bored out of his mind, he cast his gaze around the room until he spied a golden kithara lying on a cushion on the floor in a corner.

Mesmerized by it, he retrieved the instrument and held it reverently in his hands. He hadn't played music since he'd left Atlantis. Music had been one of many things he'd been taught and he'd had a natural aptitude.

The thing he'd always loved most had been the way the music made him feel. Like plays, he could lose himself to the song and notes.

He strummed the strings and cringed at how badly out of tune it was. But after a minute, he had it back to perfection. Content for once, he started playing.

Artemis paused before she materialized back into her temple. At first she thought it was her niece Satara playing the kithara that she used to entertain Artemis and her koris. Until she heard the deep and beautiful male voice singing in a low perfect pitch. The song, so tender and heartfelt, brought tears to her eyes.

She'd never suspected that Acheron possessed such talent. Not even the muses could compete.

Solidifying in the room, she listened while he kept his back to her. "You're amazing," she breathed, moving to sit behind him.

He stopped instantly.

As he started to set it aside, she stopped him. "Please keep playing."

"I only like to play when I'm alone."

"Why?"

"Because it makes people want to fuck me."

She tsked at his contrariness. "You shouldn't use words like that around me, Acheron. I'm a goddess. You need to show me more respect."

"Forgive me, akra."

Artemis sat back with a sigh at his subservience. She hated whenever he took that tone. It was the fire and defiance in him that she craved. Whenever he relaxed, that was the side he showed her. But the moment she corrected him, he immediately fell into this role he wore right now.

And she despised it.

She pushed the instrument toward him. "Would you play for me? There's only the two of us and I should like to hear your voice."

He returned the kithara to his lap and idly strummed it.

She leaned against his back and held him while he played. "What other talents do you have that you've hidden from me?"

"I'm accomplished at anything that entertains others."

"Such as?"

"Musical instruments, song, strega, massage, dance and fucking."

"Acheron!" She hid her smile behind his shoulder. So he wasn't quite subservient after all.

"I was only answering your question."

Sure he was . . . Her Acheron could be quite a handful and in more ways than one. "Can you dance as well as you play?"

"Better."

She found that impossible to believe. "Show me."

"There will be no music if I stop playing to dance."

She pulled the kithara from his hands. "There will be." She used her powers to continue the song. "Now show me what you can do."

He stood up and turned to face her. Holding his hand out, he waited for her to take it before he pulled her to her feet. True to his words, he was an elegant dancer. He moved with a graceful beauty that was almost godlike.

The more they danced, the more she ached for a taste of him. Her body on fire, she jerked him into her arms, intent on stripping him naked.

"Artemis!" Apollo's call shook her.

Acheron saw the doors to Artemis's temple opening. The next thing he knew, he was falling onto the floor of his own bedroom. The stone slammed painfully into his body as he landed flat on his back. His breath rushed out of him in a loud oof.

"You could have put me on my feet or in the bed," he said from between clenched teeth.

A bright light flashed in the room an instant before the kithara landed on top of his stomach. Acheron cursed in pain. It'd been a nice thought of hers, but damn . . . for a goddess renowned for her aim in hunting, her aim in this left much to be desired.

He'd barely risen to his feet before his own doors swung open to show Ryssa.

"Where have you been?" she demanded in a tone he'd seldom heard her direct at him. It was anger mixed with worry.

He set the kithara on his bed before he answered. "I don't know what you mean."

"I've been looking for you. You were gone for hours."

It was strange how time on Olympus passed very differently from time here. To him, it seemed as if only minutes had passed. "I was nowhere important."

She narrowed her gaze on him as she drew near. It was a probing gaze as if she were trying to unravel a mystery. "There's something different about you."

"There's nothing different."

"Yes, there is. You don't cower as you used to. You look at me when I speak to you. There's a confidence and peace that wasn't there before. What has caused this change?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Ryssa stepped closer to him, then froze. Her gaze fastened on his neck and before he could stop her, she reached out and brushed his hair back from his shoulder. She gasped. "You've been with Artemis."

Terror filled him, but he kept it from showing as he silently cursed. "I've been with no one."

"I'm not a fool, Acheron. I know the marks left by the gods." She looked at the kithara. "I know their gifts."

Damn it. He should have thought of that. But it was too late. All he could do was lie to her and hope she'd believe him. "I have been with no one."

"Why don't you tell Father?" She turned to leave.

Acheron grabbed her arm. "Listen to me, Ryssa. I've been with no one. I know nothing of what you speak. If you love me even a little, you'll forget this moment and pretend you've seen nothing . . . please."

She placed a tender hand to his cheek. "I love you, little brother. I would never betray you. If you don't want me to tell him, then I won't."

He moved her hand to his lips so that he could kiss it in gratitude. "Now what had you seeking me this day?"

"I wanted to go to the market, but didn't want to go with a servant. I thought you'd enjoy the excursion."

"Why didn't you ask me?"

Acheron looked past her to see Styxx standing outside the door with a livid expression.

Ryssa turned to frown at him. "I didn't think you'd like to go. It's rather common for you, isn't it?"

Styxx curled his lip. "You'd rather be with an abomination than me?"

"Acheron isn't an abomination."

There was no missing the hurt in Styxx's eyes and it stunned Acheron that his brother would feel that way given all the people who loved, respected and admired Styxx.

"Why do you always defend him?" Styxx asked her, his voice laden with pain and anger. "Every time we turn around, you've crawled off to be with him."

Ryssa was aghast. "Surely to the gods you're not jealous?"

"Of that maggot? Never!"

But he was. Even Acheron could see it plainly.

Styxx spun on his heel and stalked off. Ryssa ran after him and pulled him to a stop in the center of the hallway. Acheron went to the door to watch them.

"Styxx . . . what is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong? The fact that my sister parades herself around with a whore and degrades herself by begging for his comfort when she won't even acknowledge the brother who loves her."

"You've never wanted to be with me. All you've ever done is deride me and my actions as you are now."

He shook his head. "You remember nothing, do you?"

"Remember what?"

"Anytime Acheron and I were ever crossed you ran to him to cuddle him while you ignored me. Every time I ever reached for you, you couldn't be bothered with me. Acheron is all that's ever mattered to you."

Ryssa shook her head with the same disbelief that Acheron shared. "You cannot possibly be jealous of Acheron."

"Don't you dare laugh at me." His eyes narrowed dangerously. "I am prince and heir. I can have you killed, sister or not."

Acheron saw the tears in her eyes over that threat and fury took him. He left the door to defend his sister. "Don't you dare talk to her like that."

Styxx backhanded him so hard, his lip and nose exploded with blood. "Don't you ever address me again, you filthy whore. I wish to the gods that you knew the humiliation you've caused me. Whenever I walk into a room, I see the snide glares, hear the whispered comments and jeers about my twin and his unrivaled skills. Because of you, I never knew my mother. I barely know my sister. I hate you with a passion so fervent that I can imagine no greater pleasure than killing you. If only the gods would grant me that one desire."

"Styxx!" Ryssa snapped. "How dare you!"

He curled his lip at her. "Don't you dare chastise me. In the end you're both nothing but whores. You're beneath me." He stormed off.