Styxx (Dark-Hunter 22)

Chapter Six

"Are you mad? He has the same blond hair and blue eyes. The same broad shoulders."

"His features-"

"Are his own. Granted. Still, most men would kill to have a boy so handsome. If you doubt it, offer him up at market and see how rich you'll be."

"I'm not going to sell my son!" Xerxes growled.

"Then you admit he's yours?"

Xerxes snorted at his brother's trickery. Estes had always been able to outmaneuver him. It was what made his brother such a brilliant military commander. He could always think nine steps ahead of anyone else and he knew how to manipulate people to get them to do exactly what he wanted.

Even so, Xerxes couldn't get past the feeling in his gut that told him Styxx had a father other than him. That Styxx was more Acheron's brother than Xerxes's son.

Estes rubbed at his beard. "Brother, have you seen the scars Styxx carries?"

Xerxes scowled. "What scars?"

"He's your son. How have you missed them? They cover the poor child. Down his back, across his groin and ribs ... Not to mention his own mother tried to kill him and his older sister berates him every time he speaks and many times when he doesn't, and all the while you laugh at her attacks and think her disrespect is cute. Given all that, I should think he's entitled to being a little strange from time to time. He's been through more tragedies and challenges in his short life than most men experience in a lifetime."

That might be part of what he sensed.

But there were times when he felt absolute hatred for him radiating from the boy. Times when he felt like Styxx was plotting and conniving against him. "He keeps things from me."

"Should I remind you of the secrets we hid from Father? Starting with that red-haired slave girl we shared when we were at our Uncle Arel's?"

He laughed at the memory of two of the best weeks of his life. "She was a sweet treat."

"Indeed."

Maybe Estes was right, after all.... "I suppose I am overreacting. I just worry about him and our kingdom."

"That is what kings and fathers do."

Xerxes laughed. "Then I am great at both."

"Of course you are."

Xerxes smiled at the brother he loved more than anything. "I miss you so when you're gone. I hate that I only get to see you once a year, and always too short a stay."

"Perhaps I could remain longer on my next visit. Maybe take Styxx hunting for a week without you? He might confide in me if he's away from here and his responsibilities. Then I could observe him and see if he's normal or not, and report back to you what I find."

"Wonderful idea. And I think he'd like that. He's been rather sad and withdrawn for quite some time now."

Estes smiled. "I shall look forward to my time alone with Styxx. His hair should be back to its normal length by then, and his body more developed."

"What has that to do with anything?"

"He should have more confidence in himself. Feel more like a man and less like a frightened boy."

Xerxes scoffed. "I doubt he could have any less. 'Tis another matter that irritates me where he's concerned. He skulks about like a terrified peasant and not a prince." And that, too, made him doubt Styxx's paternity. Surely, he wouldn't father such a scared little mouse.

Estes crossed the room and clapped him on the shoulder. "Put it out of your mind, brother. I will take care of my nephew and his needs. I promise you. One week with me and he will be an entirely different person. Trust me. I know just how to make a man of him."

May 9, 9533 BC

Styxx sat alone in the dining room, drinking wine as he sought to silence the screaming gods in his head. He didn't know why on this day and his birthday they were so much worse than normal, but they were. It was as if they sought to drive him to true madness.

Leave me alone!

Still, they raged.

He added another round of wine and water to his cup and wondered how much more he'd have to consume before he passed out from it. Surely he was almost there. He'd been at this for hours now and had downed almost three full jugs.

As he sat back in his chair, he felt a presence in the room with him. At this hour of the night, no one should be awake except for the soldiers patrolling outside. Even his personal guard was now snoozing out in the hallway.

I need to replace them with two who don't snore so loudly.

Turning his head, he found one of his sister's maids standing in the doorway, watching him.

"What do you want?" he growled.

"I saw the candle burning and thought it'd been left alight by accident."

Sure she did. 'Cause candles were always being left unattended like that....

Liar. Just once, he'd like to find a woman who honestly admitted that she spied on him because she wanted to fuck him. Instead, they played their games as if he was too stupid to know the truth.

"As you can see now, it isn't." He took a deep quaff of his wine.

Instead of leaving, the pretty blond came closer. Licking her lips suggestively, she leaned against the table next to him. "Would you care for some company, Highness?"

"Not particularly."

"Truly?" She dragged her hand over her right breast, causing the nipple to harden and protrude through the thin white linen.

Fascinated, he couldn't take his eyes off it as his mouth watered for something sweeter than wine.

She slid closer so that she could straddle his knees. His own body hardened at the sight of her like that. The sides of her peplos parted, showing him the entire length of her luscious flesh. "Have you ever touched a woman's breast, my lord?"

Too drunk to think straight, he couldn't speak.

So she reached up and removed the fibula from her peplos. The material fell to her waist, exposing her upper body to his hungry gaze. His throat went dry. Though her alabaster breasts weren't very large, they were nicely formed and would easily fill his palm.

Licking her lips, she slid her hips on top of the table in front of him then lifted the hem of her gown up to her thighs and flashed him an image of the curly blond hair at the juncture of her thighs. "Would you like to touch me?"

The cup fell from his numbed fingers as an incessant need to be inside her consumed him. She leaned back onto the table and bent her knees so that he had a perfect view of her. Then she reached between her legs and ran her fingers down her wet cleft. He watched in silent awe as she gently opened herself for him.

"Well?" she asked, her voice thick with needful hunger as she pressed her fingers deep inside her body and slowly masturbated for him. Moaning, she thrust her hips against her hand, and rode her fingers until they were slick and dewy.

His breathing labored, he arched a brow at her actions. Well, you don't look like you need me....

"What is going on?"