Styxx (Dark-Hunter 22)

The maid let out a small squeak as she jumped from the table and covered herself.

Styxx sighed as he saw Ryssa's angry form in the doorway, glaring daggers at him ... thank the gods she didn't have one in her hand or it'd probably be buried in his chest by now. "Nothing, sweet sister."

She curled her lips in disgust as she faced her wayward maid. "You were supposed to be fetching me something to drink, Eirene."

"Forgive me, my lady."

Now the maid was meek and bashful? Really?

"Get upstairs!"

"Yes, my lady." She went down on the floor to retrieve her brooch, giving him a prime view of her shapely ass as she did so.

With one last regal snarl, Ryssa turned and left them. The instant his sister was gone, Eirene looked up from the floor and smiled at him.

"Should you need me, Your Highness, I'm not far away." Rising up, she pressed her fingers to his lips playfully so that he could smell and taste her.

Completely disinterested in the stench of a whore, Styxx wiped it away as she left him. People, and especially women, never ceased to amaze him.

You should have taken her up on her offer.

But he had no interest in a communal quim that welcomed any handy cock. His father had probably even tupped her. And that thought immediately softened him. He had no desire to tie himself to a spiteful, crazy bitch like his mother or Ryssa because he was hard for her charms.

He'd sooner take care of his own needs.

Or fuck a goat.

Shaking his head to clear it, he retrieved his cup from the floor and set it on the table. Then he headed for bed. Alone.

As he reached the top of the stairs, he found Ryssa waiting there for him.

"You are to stay away from my maids, do you hear me?"

"Then you should tell your maids to stay away from your brother."

She slapped him. "They're servants. They can't say no to you and you know it. It's sickening to have you prey on them the minute my back's turned."

Styxx wiped at the blood on his lips as his buzz gave way to anger. "What do you want from me, Ryssa?"

I want you dead.

Her unspoken response slapped him harder than her hand had. Her palm had only made his lips bleed. Those furious words cut his heart to the quick and he hated her for making him care about the fact his own sister despised him.

"I want you to stay away from me and my maids. They are good and decent women. Not your own private harem."

Why can't you be like Acheron? He would never prey on someone else.

He clenched his teeth. What would she say if she knew how many lovers her precious Acheron had taken while Styxx was still as virgin as the day he'd entered this world? And that was even with a god chasing after his virginity, along with every female unrelated to him.

She wouldn't believe it. For whatever reason, she wanted to hate him and went out of her way to find reasons to fuel her resentment and fury.

All I ever did was try to please you and Mother. But those days were over. There were some people who couldn't be pleased no matter how hard he tried and there was nothing he could do about it. He was tired of banging his head against that wall.

His head hurt badly enough. He didn't need a concussion to go with it.

"Good night, sweet sister. May Morpheus cradle you kindly to his bosom." Turning, he walked to his room and locked the door lest another of her maids get lost on her way to the kitchen.

His head throbbing, he went to his bed and threw himself across it.

Was there anything more treacherous in this world than a woman, especially when the bitch was conniving?

May 10, 9533 BC

Pacing the floor of his personal temple, Archon cursed as another anniversary passed without their having located his wife Apollymi's missing brat.

Time was growing critically short....

If they didn't find Apostolos and kill him, his "beloved" wife was going to free the little bastard's powers and the two of them would join together to destroy every single member of his pantheon.

Starting with him.

He glared at his sister, Epithymia. The Atlantean goddess of desire had promised him that Apostolos would die. She had been there at his birth and touched him so that anyone who saw him would covet his body. The humans were supposed to have ripped the child apart.

And yet another year had passed and he still lived.

"You have to tell us where he is," Archon snarled at her.

"It won't matter. He's not there."

"What do you mean?"

"After a few years, I went back and the brat was gone."

Archon cursed. "How can he hide from all of our collective powers?"

She gave him a droll stare. "You had to marry a primal god.... Remember? None of us can touch Apollymi's powers. The bitch is potent, which is why you're so afraid of her."

And once her son came into his majority, it would be the end of everything.

"Your best bet is to keep hammering him with voices and pain. Sooner or later, it's bound to drive him to suicide."

"And if he doesn't?" Archon asked.

"I suggest you learn to swim." She flashed out of his study.

Archon cursed. They would have to step up their plans. There was no choice. Even if he had to tear the human world apart, he needed that boy's head on a platter. Sooner rather than later.

August 18, 9533 BC

Styxx stood by his father's side with his spine ramrod stiff as he did his best to ignore the voices that fought each other for time inside his skull. The loudest was the strident shrew tone he knew best.

Ryssa.

You're such a spoiled little brat. You repulse me. Standing there like you're already king. You're nothing but a worthless bully. I'm surprised you haven't ordered someone else to take your place to welcome Uncle for his visits.

He slid his gaze to her. She gave him a cold, mocking smile. Whatever. He'd never forgiven her for her reaction to him years ago, anyway.