"And that's why he plots your murder, Father," Styxx spoke up finally. "Don't let a woman sway you from what needs to be done. Women are our greatest weakness. They prey on our guilt and our love of them. How many times have you told me that? You can't listen to them. They think with their hearts and not their minds."
Her father's face turned to stone. "I will not let him get away with it this time."
Tears flowed freely down her face at her father's blindness. "This time? When have you ever let Acheron get away with anything?"
She blinked away the tears in her eyes as she tried to make him see reason. "Beware the viper in your closet. Isn't that another thing you're always saying, Father?" She cut a meaningful glare at Styxx. "Ambition and jealousy are at the heart of all betrayals. Acheron's only ambition is to stay out of your sight and were he to have jealousy, it wouldn't be directed at you. But I do know of another who would gain immensely in his life were you gone."
Her father backhanded her. "How dare you implicate your brother."
"I told you, Father. She hates me. I wouldn't be surprised if she hasn't bedded the whore too."
Ryssa wiped the blood from her lips. "The only person in this family that I know of who sleeps with whores is you, Styxx. I wonder if Acheron was supposedly seen in your favorite stew . . ." With that she turned and headed out of the room and to the street.
"Leave us!"
Acheron could barely recognize the sound of his father's voice through the throbbing vicious pain. No part of him had been left unviolated or free of abuse. It even hurt to blink.
Once the room was empty, his father approached him where he lay on the stone slab.
To his complete shock, his father brought him a ladle of water to drink.
Acheron cringed, expecting the king to hurt him worse with it.
He didn't. His father actually lifted his head and helped him to drink from it. But for the fact it would kill Styxx, he'd think it poisoned.
"Where were you last night?"
Acheron felt a single tear slide from the corner of his eye at the question that had been asked over and over again. The salt from it, stung the open wounds on his cheek as he drew a ragged, agonized breath. "Just tell me what to say, akri. Tell me what will keep me from being hurt anymore."
His father slammed the ladle down on the stone by Acheron's face. "I want the names of the men you met with."
He didn't know the names of the senators. They'd seldom offered one before they'd screwed him.
Acheron shook his head. "I met with no one."
His father buried his hand in his hair and forced him to look at him. "Give me the truth. Damn you!"
Lost to the pain, Acheron struggled to think of some lie that his father would believe, but as with the interrogator, he came back to the one single truth. "I didn't do it. I wasn't there."
"Then where were you? Have you a single witness to your where-abouts?"
Yes, but she'd never come forward. Maybe if he were Styxx . . . But Artemis would never stand up for a worthless whore. "I have only my word."
His father roared in anger. He reached for him, but before he could make contact, he froze.
Acheron held his breath as he tried to understand what was happening. An instant later, Artemis appeared beside him.
Stunned, he couldn't do anything other than stare at her.
"Your sister told me what they'd accused you of. Don't worry, your father will have no memory of this. Nor will your brother."
Acheron swallowed as he tried to understand what she was saying. "You're protecting me?"
She nodded. An instant later, he was back in his room and healed. Acheron lay back on his bed, more grateful than words could express. But even so it didn't erase the pain of what he'd been through. Any more than it concealed the fact that Styxx was planning to overthrow his own father.
What was he going to do?
Artemis materialized beside him. Her expression was sorrowful as she brushed his hair back from his face.
"Will Ryssa remember us?" he asked her.
"No. From this moment forward she won't even remember that you and I know each other. I should have done it sooner perhaps. But she seemed to keep her mouth closed. Now I won't have to worry."
That was for the best.
He stared at Artemis amazed at what she'd done. No, she hadn't stood up for him, but she had saved him. It was a major breakthrough from the last time she'd left him to their "tender" care. "Thank you for coming for me."
She laid her hand to his cheek. "I wish I could take you away from here."
She was the one person who could. But her fear was too great. Maybe she was right. What good would it do for her to be ruined over him?
He wasn't worth it.
Acheron kissed her on the lips even though he was still cold inside. He had nowhere to go and he was tired of being here with people who hated him.
Styxx . . .
In the blink of an eye the simplest answer to his predicament came to him. Why had he never thought of it before?
Pulling back from Artemis, he held her hand. "You should go before someone stumbles in here."
"I'll see you tomorrow."
Not if he had his way. "Tomorrow."
Acheron watched as she faded and the second she was gone, he immediately made plans for what was to come.
His father refused to let him die so long as his life was tied to Styxx's and Styxx was plotting the death of his father.
The answer was so simple. If he killed Styxx, his father would be safe and he'd be free.
Peace. He would finally have peace.
February 19, 9527 BC
Acheron waited until the palace was completely silent. In less than an hour the sun would rise . . .
And both he and Styxx would be dead. The mere thought of it brought more joy to him than anything else he could imagine.
More than eager for it, he held the dagger tight in his hand as he snuck past the guards and crept through the door of Styxx's room. He shut it with only a whisper of a noise. Like a shadow, he made his way across the floor to the large feather-stuffed bed where his brother slept. Heavy curtains hung to shield the heir from a stray breeze.
But they couldn't shield him from Acheron.
His gaze dark, Acheron pulled the curtains back. Naked except for his royal emblem necklace, Styxx was sleeping on his side, completely vulnerable.
All the years of abuse, of Styxx mocking him, went through his mind, as well as the memory of the way his brother had been willing to see him punished for the treason Styxx had committed.
Acheron lifted the dagger. One slash . . . one cut . . .
Peace.
Do it!
He started the downward motion, then stopped before he made contact with the prince's throat.
Silently, he cursed as he realized a horrible truth about himself. He couldn't do this. Not in cold blood. Not this mercilessly.
Disgusted, he stepped back as he realized he was a coward.
No, not a coward. No matter what had happened in their past, they were brothers. Twins. He couldn't kill his own brother. Even if the bastard deserved it.
Your pain won't stop until you do this.
He wouldn't show such mercy to you.
It was true. He'd been willing to see him beaten, gelded and even killed if his father had been able to do it.
Styxx had no mercy for him, no pity or even compassion and if he allowed the man to live, Acheron's abuse would continue. It would most likely worsen once Styxx killed their father. And once their father was gone, Styxx would hurt Ryssa.
He'd already made those threats. Repeatedly.
She Styxx could kill with impunity. Acheron's blood ran cold with the reality of it. If not for himself, he had to protect his sister and her child.
Styxx had to die.
"Forgive me, brother," he whispered an instant before he stabbed Styxx straight through the heart.
Styxx gasped as his eyes flew open. Acheron staggered back, into the shadows while his brother tried to crawl out of bed. Falling onto the floor, Styxx collapsed as blood ran from the wound and pooled onto the stone.
His breathing ragged, Acheron waited for death to claim him too.
It didn't and with every continued heartbeat, panic began to set in.
He felt the same as ever. How could that be?
Maybe Styxx wasn't dead. Terrified he'd only wounded his brother, he went to him and pressed his hand to his neck. There was no pulse at all. No movement or any other sign of life. Rolling Styxx over, he saw that his skin and lips were already turning blue, his eyes were open and glazed.
Styxx was dead.
Yet Acheron lived.
Horrified, he ran for the door and then past the dozing guards, down the hall back to his own room. No! The word echoed through his mind over and over as he tried to make sense of this. If he died, Styxx died. If Styxx died . . .
Nothing happened to him. How could this be?
Why would the gods have done that? It didn't make any sense.
You've killed your own brother. Your twin.
Acheron leaned against his closed door as absolute horror filled him. They would kill him if they ever found out the truth. His father wouldn't forgive this. They would tear him apart . . .
Suddenly an alarm sounded through the palace as guards shouted to each other and clamored through the hallway.
They've already discovered his body. Gods help me!
Someone knocked on his door.
"Acheron?"
It was Ryssa. Acheron opened the door to see her there, her face pale and hair mussed. She wore a red wrap around her blue gown. "I wanted to make sure that you were all right. Someone tried to kill Styxx tonight."
Tried? No, he'd fucking succeeded. "What do you mean?"
Before she could answer, he saw Styxx behind Ryssa, his face flushed with anger as he led the guards through a search of the rooms. "Find my attacker! I want him now. Do you hear me? Search every corner until we have him!"
Acheron blinked in disbelief.
Styxx was alive? He was completely unprepared for what this meant. Styxx had been resurrected.
Why?
Ryssa shook her head. "Have you seen anyone?"
"I was in my room," he lied.
As if sensing him, Styxx froze then turned to face him. Though he was covered in blood there was no sign of the wound that had killed him. "Guards!" he roared.
Acheron stepped back in fear.
Styxx pointed to him. "Guard him. My attacker might realize that to kill me all he has to do is kill him first. I want someone guarding his back at all times."
If only his brother knew the truth . . . Thank the gods that he didn't.
"What a horrible night," Ryssa said. "I'd best go to Apollodorus. I know all this commotion will have him scared."
Acheron didn't move as she left him. Through the crack in the door, he watched the guards swarming the hallway and searching rooms. His brother was alive. He couldn't get past that one fact.
So their lives weren't truly bound together. At least not in a traditional sense. If he died, Styxx died. If Styxx died . . . there was no effect on him.
His father was right. He was unnatural.
Why would the gods protect him and not Styxx? It didn't make any sense.
Withdrawing into his room he decided to wait out the search until the house was again quiet. Once he was sure he could leave and not be seen, he wrapped his cloak around himself and headed out into the dark streets.
He remained hidden as he wended his way through the alleys to Apollo's temple. Once there, he knocked on the door.
"We're closed."
"I'm from the royal house," Acheron said forcefully. "It's imperative that I see the oracle."
The door opened a partial degree until the old wizened priest caught sight of his face. His demeanor immediately changed to one of subservience. "Prince Styxx, forgive me. I-I didn't realize it was you."
Acheron didn't bother to correct him. For once, he was grateful they were twins. "Take me to the oracle."
Without further hesitation, the priest led him through the columned walkway to the back where small rooms were set aside for the priests and attendants. The oracle's room was slightly larger than the others. It was bare and stark with only a small drapery-lined bed.
"Mistress?" the priest called as he headed for the bed. "The prince wishes a word with you."
A blond woman who couldn't have been much older than fifteen sat up on the bed and with the priest's help she stood, then walked toward him. By the way she moved, Acheron knew she was drugged. Heavily.
The priest led her to a tall chair that was set over a bowl with vapors. By the scent of it, he'd guess it contained Morpheus Root mixed with Risi Opsi, a compound that created fantastic hallucinations. It was something he'd only taken once after Euclid sang its praises, but that had been enough. It'd left him delirious with nightmares for two days.
"Leave us," she snapped at the priest. "You know the law."
He withdrew instantly.
The girl pulled the cloak up on her head as she added water to the boiling herbs to make them smoke more. "You're not the prince."
He frowned at her. "How do you know?"
"I know all," she said snidely. "I'm the oracle and you're the cursed firstborn son whom the king denies."
That last bit wasn't common knowledge and it made him believe in her abilities. "Then tell me why I'm here."
She breathed in the vapors and writhed on the stool as if she heard the same voices that haunted him. When she opened her eyes, her gaze pierced him like a lance. "You can't kill him. It is forbidden for you to die."
"Why?"
She inhaled again. Her eyes turned a glowing shade of gold. "In the mark of the sun lies a slash of silver. Not once, not twice, but thrice. The mark of the father to the right, the mother to the left and in the center is the one who unites the two. Three lives intertwined. You are what you were though you don't know it yet. You will. The day draws near when your destiny will manifest. Walk with courage and listen. Yours is a birth of pain, but one of necessity. Akri di diyum. "
The Lord and Master will rule . . .
She reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Your will will make the laws of the universe."
"What are you saying?"
"He who fights destiny loses. Embrace your fate, Acheron. The harder you fight the more painful your birth." She collapsed.
Acheron barely caught her before she hit the floor. Scooping her up in his arms, he took her to her bed and laid her down. She continued to mumble nonsensical words of birds and demons coming for him.
Even more confused than he'd been before, he left her to the care of the priests and made his way back to the palace.
Her prophecy was gibberish.
It had to be. Why would the gods pick a whore to move through? Why would his will be the will of the universe?
She's drugged . . .
Of all men, he knew how disconcerting that was. It was nothing more than the hallucinations he'd had himself. He was nothing.
Yet in the back of his mind two words whispered over and over again.
What if?
March 3, 9527 BC
Acheron sat in the nursery, spooning strained meat to Apollodorus. The two of them had been alone most of the morning while Ryssa lay with a vicious headache. He didn't know why his nephew appeared to adore him, but the boy would follow him anywhere.
It was the only good thing in his life.
Apollodorus let out a long burp, then giggled.
Acheron lifted his eyebrows. "I think you're done, my lord."
The baby fell over and laughed. Acheron scooped him up and propped him against his shoulder.
He'd just set Apollodorus down for a nap when the doors to the nursery opened. For an instant, he feared it might be his father or Apollo, but luckily it was Ryssa entering with a tiny blond young woman.
It took a moment before he realized who she was.
Maia.
"Acheron! Look who came for a visit with her mother."
Joy filled his entire being as he rose to greet her. "It's so good to see you again." He held her close.
She pulled back to look up at him with a smile. "Acheron . . . it's been far too long. You haven't changed a bit."
But she had. And when she ran her hand down his arm in a disturbing caress, he went cold with dread. Especially when that familiar light came into her eyes. It was as if she couldn't control herself. Damn, his curse.
Not Maia . . .
Stepping back, he put distance between them. "What brings you here?"
"I came here with my mother."
Ryssa gave him a wan smile that let him know her head was still paining her. "They'll be staying for a week."
That news should have made him glad, instead he dreaded it. "Really?"
Maia approached him slowly, like a stalking lioness who was hungry to take a bite of him. "You and I should get reacquainted."
Before he could respond, a maid called for Ryssa.
Ryssa grimaced in pain and pressed her hand to her temple, then glanced to them. "I'll be right back."
Maia took another step closer. "I had forgotten how beautiful you were . . ."
He put his hands on her shoulders to keep her back. "I was told you have a husband now."
"He's not with me." She leaned toward him invitingly.
"No," he said firmly. "I won't do this with you."
She licked her lips as she glanced up at him from beneath her lashes. "I'm not a child anymore, Acheron. I'm a woman full grown with a babe of my own."
"And I have no interest in you that way."
She reached for his groin.
Acheron grabbed her hand before she made contact. "Maia, I tended you when you were a child."
"And now I'd have you tend to me as a woman."
"Please, stop this."
"Why? You're younger than my husband is." She tried to pull her hand away from his grip. "Don't you find me attractive?"
Ryssa returned.
Acheron released her and quickly moved away. "I have to go now."
"Is something wrong?" Ryssa asked.
More than he could ever tell her. "No. I'm fine. I just need to go." He practically ran from the room and didn't stop until he was safely locked inside his own chambers.
Leaning his head back against the door, he cursed over what had happened. What was so wrong with him that everyone past the age of puberty wanted to fuck him?
He was so tired of everyone grabbing at him, winking and looking suggestively. It wasn't normal and now with Maia he realized something terrible.
He would never be able to have a normal relationship with anyone.
Father, sister, even childhood friend.
The moment someone went through puberty, it was over for him. Sick with the thought, he slid down the door and hated whatever curse the gods had given him.
June 22, 9527 BC
Tomorrow Acheron would reach his majority. One and twenty. He should be thrilled and yet the oracle's words haunted him. More than that was the look on Maia's face as she'd attempted to grab him.
"Something has to change," he said with a heavy sigh. His brother was still plotting his father's murder and here he sat doing nothing except trying to stay out of everyone's way, hoping they wouldn't even see him.
"Acheron?"
He leaned his head back to find Ryssa joining him on the balcony. She narrowed her eyes at him. "You're taking that stuff again, aren't you?"
"Only for today and tomorrow," he admitted quietly.
"Why?"
Because Artemis had cut out his heart and he didn't have the stamina to make it through the next two days without it.
It was their old fight. He'd asked the goddess to acknowledge him or at the very least come to him on the anniversary of his birth and she'd laughed in his face. More than that he was tired of watching all the special celebrations that were planned for the anniversary of Styxx's birthday. Celebrations planned by a man whose life would soon be ended by the very son he coveted so zealously. Ironic, yes. But it didn't stop it from hurting.
"Acheron." Ryssa gripped his chin and forced him to look at her. "Can you hear me?"
"Not really."
He saw the frustration in her eyes. "What am I going to do with you?"
"Beat me like everyone else."
She glared at him. "You're not funny."
He wasn't trying to be. It was a simple fact of his life that he moved everyone around him to extreme acts of violence.
She shook her head before she stepped back. "You know I won't let Apollodorus near you when you're like this."
That was the one drawback. "I know. It wouldn't be very motherly of you. Not that I personally would know how mothers behave with their young. I think I saw it once in a play, only then the mother fed her baby to a lion. Too bad my own mother wasn't so merciful, huh?"
She pulled his head against her shoulder and kissed him just behind the ear, then gently ruffled his hair. "Your hair is lighter than before. I think I like it this length. Did you get it cut?"
He shook his head. "Whoever cuts my hair wants to sleep with me afterward. I thought I'd let it grow until it either touches my toes or Father gets angry enough to shear it again. Maybe I ought to go make another offering to the gods. I hear Athena has a feast day coming up."
She let out an agitated breath. "You are in a mood today."
It was the drugs combined with his frustration. He'd always hated being like this in Atlantis. His sarcastic brashness had never been rewarded well. And it'd always killed him that they fed him the drugs, then punished him for the effects the drugs had on his mind and body.
Artemis had a strange loving hatred for this mood. At times she liked it and at others she'd punish him for it, too. Problem was, he could never tell how she'd receive it until it was too late.
Ryssa withdrew from him reluctantly. His pain was tangible and there was nothing she could do to alleviate it. She wanted to cry from the weight of her helplessness where he was concerned.
The worst part, something had happened between him and Maia, but he refused to tell her what. Her guess was that Maia had succumbed to the same pull everyone else felt. It must be something to do with puberty. Before sexual maturity, children couldn't discern it. But afterward . . .
Her poor Acheron.
If only there was someone else who could control themselves around him.
I'm the only one.
She didn't consider herself special by any means. But it didn't change the fact that Acheron was alone. He'd always be alone. Their father would never allow him to marry and after the near assassination of Styxx, guards had once again been posted outside Acheron's doors. What little freedom he'd known was now gone.
How she wished she could make it better for him.
After nightfall, Acheron watched the activity below. The moment that caught his attention most was the large procession that heralded the Princess of Thebes. Styxx's new bride. They were to marry two weeks from tomorrow.
This time he planned to keep far away from his brother's woman. As if they understood the danger, his balls ached suddenly at the thought of being cut on again.
Flinching, Acheron damned his brother for the castration. Styxx had known the truth about what his betrothed had done, but the bastard hadn't cared.
So what? What was his humiliation anyway? The only thing that mattered was precious Styxx and his dignity.
Sighing, he thought back to the oracle. Akri di diyum.
What could that possibly mean?
The Lord and Master would rule. He already ruled the bedroom, what else was left?
It's just a drugged oracle, Acheron, forget it. They were always speaking in nonsensical riddles. And no wonder. The bitch had been higher then than he was now. Maybe he ought to start telling prophecies himself.
Oh wait, he already knew one . . .
Artemis wouldn't come near him today or tomorrow, but on the third day she'd jump on top of him until he was limping.
See . . . prophet. He knew the future even better than the oracle did.
Laughing bitterly, he rolled off the banister and headed to his bed.
The next thing he knew, he was in Artemis's temple, lying on the floor at her feet. "A little warning would be nice, Artemis."
Laughing, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and nuzzled his neck. "I was feeling peckish."
He should have known. "You told me you wouldn't be able to see me until the day after tomorrow."
She stroked his neck with her nails, causing chills to run up and down his body. "There was a lull so I made space for you. A little gratitude could serve you well."
He leaned his head back to give her a droll stare. "Can't you see the gratitude oozing out of me?"
She nipped at the tip of his nose. "Sarcasm doesn't become you."
"Yet it makes you crave me whenever I am."
She smiled. "How do you manage to read me so well?"
It wasn't hard. She adored the fact he wasn't in awe of her. The fact that her eyes dilated and her breathing increased were clues hard to miss.
She nibbled his lips. "I've missed you."
A sharp gasp intruded on their play.
Acheron froze at the sound that brought Artemis off her chaise in a roar of anger. There in front of them was a tall, slender woman with strawberry blond hair. Her dark eyes were round in terror.
"What are you doing here, Satara?"
"I just . . . I-I-I saw nothing, Aunt Artemis. Forgive me."
Artemis caught her by the hair and jerked her close. "Look at me." Her fangs were out and her eyes were red and tinged by orange. "You speak a word to any being about what you've just seen and there is no power that will save your life or your soul. Do you understand?"
Satara nodded vigorously.
Artemis shoved her away. "Go and don't you dare return until you're summoned."
She vanished instantly.
Artemis then turned on him with a vengeance. "This is all your fault!"
Of course it was. "You're the one who brought me here."
"Silence!" She backhanded him.
Acheron growled at the taste of blood in his mouth. He wanted to strike her back, but he knew the repercussions. He was mortal and she wasn't. Yet it was more than that. As much as that slap hurt him mentally, he wouldn't deal it to her. No one should have to bleed for kindness.
They damn sure shouldn't have to bleed for love.
"Are you through?" he asked.
She set on him then with her fangs.
Acheron hissed as she took her anger at Satara out on him. He felt two tendrils of blood fall from her lips, down the front of his chest. Pain seared him as she fed with no regard for him at all.
When she was finished, she shoved him back.
Weak from the blood loss, he fell to his knees.
She grabbed him by the hair and jerked him back against her. A knife appeared in her hand as she hovered it over his heart.
Acheron met her gaze and waited. "Kill me, Artie. End it."
Her eyes darkened to the point he was sure she'd finish him, but just as the dagger came at his heart, she reversed the direction and flung it against the wall. She wrapped her arms around him and held him close as she wept.
"Why do you make me want you?"
Acheron laughed bitterly. "I'm not the one doing this. Believe me." If he had his way, no one would ever crave him again.
She pushed him out of her arms. "Just go."