Styxx (Dark-Hunter 22)

November 20, 9529 BC

Styxx felt the venom of his sister's glare like a sword slicing down his spine. Glancing away from Galen as they trained, he saw Ryssa in the stands with their father, who'd come in earlier to watch them spar and make complaints about the fact that Styxx wasn't training hard enough.

"How can you be a war hero against Atlantis? What? Did they send only their young daughters out to fight you? I swear, I've seen peasants fighting in the street who showed more energy and vigor than you do.

"If you're going to hit like a woman, we should put a peplos on you. At least then, your pretty face and body might stop them from killing you.... Or perhaps we should have you join the Sacred Band of Boeotia and have them assign you a boyfriend who'll be willing to protect your effeminate ass in battle.

"I'm embarrassed I sent you to war after seeing this pathetic display. I should have your armor dismantled or given over to someone who actually knows how to use it and not cause it shame!"

His complaints had been so fierce and foul, Galen had finally gone over to remind his father that barely three weeks ago Styxx had almost died, and that he'd only been out of his bed for a handful of days. The purpose of the exercise was to keep him from losing flexibility and rebuild his damaged muscles. Not prepare for war.

Only then had his father stopped insulting him and allowed them to train in peace.

Styxx frowned as he watched Ryssa screaming. He couldn't hear their rapid-fire conversation, but given the angry way she gestured toward him, he was sure it was about him and Acheron.

Galen lowered his sword as he realized Styxx was distracted. "For once, I'm glad I'm not king."

Styxx laughed. "You've no idea. I've been on the receiving end of her tongue-lashings enough to know it's highly unpleasant. I think he's the one who could use armor."

"Are you the cause of her vexation?"

"Who knows. Could be the wrong material was delivered to her for a dress."

Galen chuckled then jerked his chin back toward them. "Your father must have placated her. She seems pleased enough now."

"It won't last. It never does." He took the wineskin from Galen's hand and slaked his thirst.

"Styxx!"

He winced at his father's bellow. What had the bitch blamed him for now? Returning the wineskin to Galen, he headed over.

"Father?"

"Take my advice ... should you ever have a daughter, marry her off the day she's born."

"I take it Ryssa's visit wasn't pleasant."

"The bastard's being freed and moved to his own room. Just thought you'd want to know."

The bastard. Acheron. Every time his father referred to his brother like that, it was a slap in his face, too, and betrayed what his father truly thought of them both.

Styxx was glad that Ryssa had succeeded where he'd failed, but he knew better than to let his father know his real thoughts.

"I don't see how that affects me."

"It shouldn't, but I wanted you to know about it." And with that, his father left him.

At least his brother would finally have his place again in their home. There was a time when he would have rejoiced over that news.

Now ...

All Styxx felt was sadness. Not because Acheron would have his own room, but because he no longer had a brother. He just had another person in the palace who wished him dead and burned.

No, he thought bitterly. Acheron wished him raped first.

December 5, 9529 BC

Bethany smiled at the sensation of Hector curled against her back as he slept with his arms wrapped around her body. Her head rested on his hard biceps, while his face was buried so deep in her hair that she could feel his breath against her neck. He'd made love to her for so many hours that she still wasn't sure if she'd be able to move later.

Not that she ever wanted to leave this bed, or him again.

In all her life, nothing had made her happier than her mortal. And while the war with the Greeks had ended before they'd been able to spear Prince Styxx's head to the wall, she honestly didn't mind. She wouldn't take anything, even the prince's throat, in exchange for the last few months of having Hector with her in peace.

Nothing compared to these lazy afternoons of being cocooned by his long, hard body. Of tasting his lips that drove away all thoughts except how much she adored him. How much she wanted to have his child....

Don't go there.

She couldn't help it. The more she was with Hector, the more she wanted to have him permanently in her life. Worse, she'd even started dreaming of a future with just the three of them as a family.

How stupid was that? She was a goddess, not some farmer's daughter.

And still those dreams tortured her.

Dynatos started whining and scratching at the door. He'd been so quiet for the last few hours that she'd forgotten he was in the room with them.

The instant she moved to tend him, Hector came awake with a start.

"Beth?" He breathed her name like a beloved prayer.

"Dyna wants out."

He made a disagreeable noise in her hair before he pulled back. "I'll put him outside. You stay in the bed where it's warm."

She smiled at his consideration. "You sure?"

He grumbled under his breath as he rolled away from her. "Yes."