Styxx (DH #33) (34 page)

But how?

September 19, 9532 BC

Since the queen’s return, Estes hadn’t dared to keep Styxx as drugged as before. It was both a curse and a blessing. And right now, Styxx didn’t want to remember any of the past few horrific hours he’d spent while he occasionally heard his mother and Ryssa laughing together as he’d been kept against his will in Estes’s rooms, next to his sister’s.

With any luck, he’d never have to be so debased again.

Styxx finally got the rope free from his bruised, bleeding wrist. It’d taken him hours to work it through.

His hand burned from the strain of contorting it so that he could tug at the rough, thick strands. As quickly as he could, he untied his other one. Normally Estes chained him or tied his hands apart from each other. Tonight, for reasons he didn’t want to think about, Estes had tied them together and stretched them over Styxx’s head to secure him to the bed.

Then the bastard had passed out before he had a chance to part them.

Grimacing, Styxx snatched the gag from his mouth while Estes slept soundly by his side. With a deep sigh, Estes rolled over and threw his thigh over Styxx’s. His hand quested a part of Styxx’s body that revolted him. Careful, lest he wake his uncle, he disentangled himself enough so that he could free his ankles and slide off the bed.

His heart pounded as he considered his options. There was no way to get word to his father in time. Even if he did, he fully believed that Estes would be able to twist it so that his father would never believe him. His mother would be worthless. Ryssa was stupid to a supreme level.

If he tried to arrest Estes, everything would come out. And he had no doubt that his uncle would have him committed again and then taken to Atlantis to be bought and sold.

The only real option he had left him sick to his stomach.

But it was the only way to make all of this stop. The only way to protect his brother and sister.

Himself.

You’re a pathetic coward
. His own disdain rose up to silence the voices of the gods in his head.
A real man would have already done it.

Yet it wasn’t that easy. He’d never hurt anyone before. Not intentionally.

I have to do this
. His uncle had left him with no choice. If he didn’t, Ryssa would be raped, too.

If I let that happen, how would I ever be able to live with myself?

The same way he’d been living with his conscience and the humiliation Estes and the others had given him.

One heartbeat at a time.

But no matter what, he couldn’t let Ryssa be harmed. Not when he could stop it.

And Acheron would never leave Atlantis. Not so long as Estes lived …

With a trembling hand and abject horror in his heart, Styxx pulled his pillow across the bed. He held it to his chest, staring at his uncle’s naked body.

Gods forgive me for what I’m about to do
.

Before he could change his mind or run, Styxx forced himself to slam the pillow down over Estes’s face. Estes let out a muffled bellow as he grabbed Styxx and tried to fight him off. Styxx wrapped his body around Estes’s as he used every trick Galen had taught him to hold on and make sure that he didn’t loosen his grip until Estes went limp in his arms.

Even then, he waited, afraid it was a trick. If his uncle had even a single breath left, he’d kill Styxx for this.

His hands were colder than ice when he finally reached to feel for a pulse.

Nothing.

He’s dead
.

I killed him
.

Tears filled his eyes as bile rose in his throat. He’d taken a life. And not just any life. His uncle’s.

His father’s beloved younger brother.

Styxx pulled the pillow back to reveal Estes’s glazed, open eyes. Ironically, Styxx didn’t see the sadistic bastard who’d spent the last year molesting him … he saw the uncle who’d been kind to him when he was a boy. The one who’d brought him presents and who had tried to help him.

Unable to cope with what he’d done and what had happened to him, Styxx ran to the chamber pot and unloaded his stomach.

My father will kill me if he ever finds out.

He’d committed murder. Cold-blooded. Brutal. A capital offense.

You had no choice
.

But it didn’t seem like that now. Not with this kind of finality.
I killed my own uncle. My flesh and blood.

Horrified, Styxx fell against the wall and tried to fathom why his eyes were dry. He glanced back to the bed and gasped as he saw the ropes he’d untied. They would let others know that Estes hadn’t been alone in his bed.

Panicking even more, he got up and quickly gathered them and any evidence that betrayed his presence here tonight. The second kylix. His gag. The “toys” his uncle had used on him. Then he closed Estes’s eyes and put the bed in order.

Terrified and queasy, he snuck from his uncle’s room and went to his, where he burned all the things he’d gathered until there was nothing left to betray him.

He set the kylix on his table and forced himself to lie in a bed that made his skin crawl. Guilt and fear, shame and horror mixed inside him, overriding any grief he might have known. And all he could do was wait for someone to discover Estes’s body.

And accuse him of a crime that would surely cost him his head.

*   *   *

I
t was midmorning
before one of Estes’s entourage found him in his bed. Listening to the commotion outside, Styxx clung to his pillow as fear wrapped him tight and threatened to suffocate him the way he’d killed his uncle.

“Styxx!” his mother shouted as she threw his door wide. “Come! Your uncle’s dead.”

For a full minute, he couldn’t move as he tried to think of how to react. What would be acceptable.

And what wouldn’t get him convicted.

Before he could decide, his mother snatched the covers and pillow off him. “Did you hear me?”

Feigning sleep even though he had yet to close his eyes, he frowned at her. “What?”

“Estes is dead. He appears to have died in his sleep. Get up and dress, you worthless dog! We need you.”

He drew a ragged breath and got up to bathe and dress.

By the time he joined his family, his mother was kneeling on the floor next to Estes’s side, wailing with a grief he knew she didn’t feel. His gaze went to Ryssa, who knelt beside their mother. She had tears in her eyes, but he knew they weren’t for Estes. It was Acheron on her mind.

Xan narrowed a suspicious glare at him that told him the Atlantean prince knew what he’d done, but didn’t dare make the allegation without proof.

“Where have you been?” Phanes, his father’s oldest advisor, demanded.

Before Styxx could answer, he felt the air leave the room as all eyes went to the door behind him.

Turning, Styxx saw his father there with a stern glower as he took in the sight of everyone standing over his brother’s cold, naked body. Without a word, his father rushed to the bed and touched Estes’s shoulder. He winced in pain.

“Leave us!” his father roared.

Ryssa helped their mother to her feet and they made a hasty retreat.

As Styxx moved to follow them, his father stopped him.

“Not you, boy. I want you to stay.”

Fear pierced his heart as he closed the door behind the others then returned to his father’s side.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know, Father. I just found out about it myself.”

Tears flowed down the king’s face as he reached for Styxx and jerked him into his arms to hold him. Violent sobs shook his father’s entire body. Stunned, Styxx couldn’t move while his father wept against his chest. Never in his life had his father shown so much emotion over anything.

But what cut deepest were his father’s thoughts of the childhood he’d shared with his beloved brother. How much he’d loved the man the son he held had killed.

Styxx stiffened. Anger welled up inside him, demanding he shove his father away and tell him what his brother was really like. What Estes had done to him and to Acheron, and what he’d planned to do to Ryssa. But he knew his father would never believe him. Just as Ryssa would never believe Styxx was capable of any good deed, his father would never believe Estes was capable of a bad one.

And he would
never
forgive Styxx for killing him.

After a few minutes, his father pulled himself together and straightened. He wiped his tears and cleared his throat. “We shall give him a state funeral. Then we’ll have to see to his affairs in Atlantis.”

Styxx inclined his head to him. “What of the pending war?”

His father glanced back at his uncle and hung his head. “You’re right, boy. We’ll need to hurry this. We’ll have Estes buried tonight in our crypt and leave for Atlantis first thing. Have your sister and mother oversee the body preparations.”

Styxx hesitated before he complied. “I’m sorry, Father.”

The king pulled Styxx’s head down and kissed his brow. “Pack lightly.”

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t want to travel alone to Atlantis. I need you to go with me to do this. You will be my strength.”

His fear and remorse turned to cold rage. For his father’s benefit, Didymos could be left without a king on her throne.

But when
he’d
needed to go with his father …

There had been no way in Hades it could happen.

Had you once considered my needs, you bastard, your brother would still be alive
. Styxx glanced to the bed where he’d been tied and wanted to tell his father the truth. He wanted to see his father’s face when he learned his own brother had turned both of his sons into whores.

Don’t
. The truth would not go well for him. His father had never loved him the way he loved Estes, and he never would.

Styxx glanced down at the scar on his forearm and accepted a reality he couldn’t change. Bowing, he left his father and went to tell the others about the burial, and then to pack.

When he reached his rooms, Xan was inside, waiting for him.

The giant Atlantean stood with his legs wide and arms folded across his chest. Anger bled from every cell of his body. “You killed him, didn’t you?”

With all the training he’d received since birth, Styxx arched a regal brow. “What are you talking about?”

A good seven inches taller, Xan moved to tower over Styxx and did his best to intimidate him with his massive size. “I fucked your tight little ass with Estes last night. When I left, you were out of it and tied to the bed.” Xan snatched Styxx’s hand and held his bruised, scabbed wrist for Styxx to see. “Estes wouldn’t have freed you until he got up this morning and yet you weren’t there when I went in to fuck you again.”

“I awoke in the middle of the night and found him dead by my side. I panicked.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Should we take the matter to my father and let him decide the truth? But you’ll have to confess to him how it is you know for a fact that I couldn’t get free.”

Xan curled his lip. “You think you’ve gotten away with this. But the gods know what you’ve done. You killed him in cold blood. I’ve heard the Furies in your pantheon have a special wrath they visit on the heads of those who murder their own family.”

“Then I welcome them with open arms.” Styxx glared at him. “And I’m not the one who killed my uncle. You did the moment you decided to hunger for my sister.”

Xan slammed him back against the wall so hard, it knocked the breath from him. “I shall miss Estes. He was a good friend. But most of all, I shall miss watching you and your brother suck my cock until I come in your pretty little mouths, and seeing you swallow every last drop of me.”

Styxx moved to attack, but the bastard kneed him in the groin and left him to his misery. Both physical and mental.

*   *   *

B
ethany sighed as
she packed up her basket. Again. It’d been over a solid month since she’d last seen Hector. Faithless bastard that he was, she seethed mentally.
Give men what they want and they can’t leave fast enough.

How she hated them all.

Trying not to think about how she’d let a mere mortal hurt her, she was just about to teleport home when she heard a rustling nearby.

“Beth?”

At first she thought it might be wishful thinking on her part.

Until she heard him call out again. “Hector?”

All of a sudden, he was by her side, pulling her gently against him. He held her so tight that she could barely breathe as he buried his face into the crook of her neck. His entire body was shaking so much that it frightened her.

“Is something wrong?”

“Not now that I’m finally with you again.” He tightened his arms around her. “I’m so sorry I haven’t been here. Believe me, I tried to come. I’ve thought of absolutely nothing else except being with you. Night and day.”

Those words and the truth in his desperate tone brought tears to her eyes. “I thought you’d forgotten all about me.”

“How could I forget the air I breathe? You alone sustain me.”

He was a great deal leaner than he’d been and there were cuts and swelling on his body she didn’t understand.

“Have you been ill?”

“You’ve no idea how much I cherish the concern in your sweet voice.” He held her hand against his cheek and kissed her palm. “How have you been?”

“Missing you and mad at myself for it.”

“Really?”

She cocked her brow at him. “You delight at the fact that I’ve been angry at myself?”

“No. Never. You should never be cross with yourself. Did you really miss me?”

“Of course.”

He kissed her hand again. “A pittance compared to how much I’ve ached for you, I promise.”

“Doubtful.”

“Truth.”

And still he was shaking uncontrollably. “Why do you tremble so?”

“Your beauty. It always leaves me quaking in its mighty presence.”

She scoffed, even though his flattery warmed her. “You are ever a silver-tongued master.”

“No. I am helpless before you, my lady. Always.” He knelt in front of her and placed his head to her stomach.