"Very well. I'll be right back with food."
His stomach knotted with dread and hunger, he glanced around, waiting for it to be another trick. Somehow it had to be ...
But that steaming water looked so inviting. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a real bath and not buckets of ice-cold water dumped on top of him. He started away from it, but the temptation to get some of the filth off his body was too great.
Either way, they're going to fuck me. At least let him have a little comfort before the next violent round began. Slowly and with great trepidation, he made his way to the stairs that led down into the warm, steamy salt water.
He tested the step, expecting it to give way or for something to come out of the water and attack him. But nothing happened. Taking a deep breath, he dropped the formesta and tentatively entered the pool.
He'd barely begun to relax when the woman returned.
Styxx made his way to the far end of the pool, and backed up so that he could keep her in his line of sight and his spine and hand against the tile. Just in case.
Bethany blinked away tears as she saw the way he continued to watch her as if expecting an attack. She set the tray of food down not far from him then she went to get bathing implements.
When she returned with them, she noticed that the only thing he'd taken to eat was an apple. One he scrubbed and inspected very carefully. He put it in his teeth to hold it while he kept one hand on the edge of the pool and the other free.
She uncovered the canisters to show him the soaps, oils, and lotions. Then she picked up the razor and mirror and left them for him. She backed away to sit on her white chaise.
Only then did he continue to eat his apple. All the while his gaze would only leave her so that he could randomly search the shadows from time to time.
When he finished with his single apple, he placed the core on the tray and took the razor.
Fascinated, she watched him shave without using a mirror. She'd never seen a man do that before. But as he cleaned himself, he uncovered evidence of what had been done to him. Fresh scars and bruises and injuries in places that made her want to hunt down those who'd hurt him and make them pay for it.
She conjured him a towel and fresh clothes.
When she started for him, he shot to the opposite side of the pool.
"It's just a towel, pants, and a formesta." She set them down and backed away again.
Only then did he leave the pool.
While he dressed, Bethany averted her gaze from his back, which was a bleeding, bruised mess of injuries and fresh scars. Those bastards. How could they have tortured him like this?
When she returned her gaze to him, he had a deep frown on his face as he studied her emblem on the back of the formesta. "What's wrong?"
"Is this you?" he asked through clenched teeth.
"Yes."
Anger and panic darkened his eyes as he dropped the formesta and looked for an escape.
"It's all right."
His breathing intensified. "You hate me. You've tried to kill me repeatedly. You set a bounty for my head."
"No ... I mean, I did. But I don't."
That only confused him more.
"It's the same emblem on your necklace that Bethany gave you. Look at it."
He did and his scowl returned.
"I'm her patron goddess. I didn't know you were her Hector. Had I known, I would never have tried to hurt you. I swear it to you, Styxx."
Tears filled his eyes as he caressed her necklace. "Do you know how she fares? Is she well?"
"She is."
Swallowing hard, he let go of the necklace and picked up the formesta. His movements were so slow and pain-filled that it wrung her heart. This wasn't the graceful warrior and lover she'd known. This was someone who'd been beaten to the brink of death and kept as an animal for far too long.
"Would you like something else to eat?"
His hungry gaze made her own stomach cramp in sympathetic pain. But he shook his head.
Then she realized why. "It's not drugged." Getting up, she went and took a bite of the food herself. Next she poured the wine and tasted it for him.
Even so, he didn't take it.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"I've already fallen for that trick. You'll have to think of a new one." It was only then she realized he still had the razor tucked into his hand as he watched her warily as if waiting for her to turn on him. "Are you going to rape me, too?"
She winced at his question. "No."
His eyes accused her of treachery and lies. But the worst was the agony and exhaustion she saw in the depths of his crystal gaze as he continued to search out every shadow. "I'm not stupid. I know you didn't bring me here and clean me up to be nice. Where are the others?"
"There are no others."
"Don't lie to me," he snarled. "You only clean me up when you're going to pass me around. I'd rather you get on with it than pretend to be kind." His gaze returned to the shadows. "Is Archon or Asteros watching? Ydor?"
She winced at the confirmation that her family was every bit as depraved as the Greeks. "There's no trickery or treachery, Styxx. I swear."
But he wasn't about to believe her, and honestly, she couldn't blame him. He'd been abandoned by his family. His gods.
And her.
Right now he needed to rest. Yet she knew he wouldn't relax after what they'd done to him. How could he? They had put him through horrors that no one should suffer.
And she couldn't send him home until she found out what Apollo was doing in Didymos. How he was keeping Styxx's imprisonment a secret from his ever-neglectful family.
So she used her powers to lull him until he was drugged.
"Put the razor down, Styxx."
He hesitated before he obeyed.
"Take my hand."
Again, he tried to fight it, but couldn't. In the end, he placed his hand into hers and she pulled him to her bedroom. Even though he couldn't resist or fight her wishes, she felt his panic as he feared her intent. She pulled the formesta off his shoulders and tucked him into her bed.
She leaned over him and kissed his bruised cheek. "Sleep in peace, prince. No one is going to harm you."
His breathing ragged, he fought it, but in the end, his eyes fluttered closed and he finally relaxed. While he slept, she heard his stomach rumbling in hunger.
Silent tears fell as she ran her hand over the new scars on his chest and arms. Over handprints, cuts, and bruises, both fresh and healing, that attested to the nightmare he'd been through.