Styxx (Dark-Hunter 22)

One Urian returned full force. "You ever heard of the Stygian Omada?"

"I'm Groesian. Of course I've heard of it. Who hasn't?"

Danger looked up from the frying bacon. "Well, I'm French and confused. What's the Stygian Armada-"

"Stygian O ... mada," Urian repeated.

"They were a legendary army that waged war against Atlantis," Alexion explained. "In all of Greek history, it was the only army that ever fought on Atlantean soil and won. They were practically on the main steps of the palace when they were called back to Greece for peace talks."

"Yeah." Urian jerked his chin in the direction of the temple where Styxx was staying. "And brother Styxx was their general the army was named for."

"Bullshit!" Alexion roared in denial.

"No. Real. I saw the battle scars on him myself. Ash has always said he was from Atlantis. He's never mentioned the Greek city-state he was born in so I didn't know.... But Styxx is Styxx of Didymos."

Alexion gaped. "You're shitting me."

Urian shook his head sarcastically.

"Again, French Revolution here. Les Mis, I get. This..." She wagged the spatula. "My extent of Greek history is Troy with Brad Pitt and," she looked over at Alexion, "Mr. Luscious in his armor."

Alexion went bug-eyed. "Please don't call me that in front of Urian."

Urian laughed then sobered and explained it to her. "Didymos was the Athens of its day, and Athens was not much more than a big village back then. The largest and strongest of the Greek city-states, Didymos was two border islands that buffered the rest of Greece from Atlantis. And Styxx was the greatest, most successful general in their long and prestigious military history. His battle tactics and the way he ran his army were studied extensively by the soldiers of my time. We all wanted to grow up and be him. In fact, the way he trained, and the principles his mentor taught him were the foundation of the Spartans and their military ethics. That's how good he was. But in all my readings about Didymos and Styxx, I never saw more than one prince mentioned.... Him. And nothing of a princess in anything, not that that was unusual." He held his hand up to Danger to stop her before she spoke. "And don't lecture me on ancient stupidity and their treatment of women.... I am not personally responsible for misogynistic ancient writers just because I happen to be male."

He looked back at Alexion and resumed their discussion. "Because of that, and the fact that he and Ash were babies when they died, I never made the connection that Acheron's brother Styxx was the leader of the famed Stygian League."

Alexion snorted. "That explains his arrogance."

"But he's not arrogant," Urian and Danger said simultaneously.

"Yeah," Urian said, grabbing a slice of bacon, "what she said."

She put more bacon on a plate for Urian. "He's sweet, Alexion. Really sweet."

Swallowing his bacon, Urian snorted. "I would not use that word myself for him. He's lethal and you can't miss it, but I'll be honest. I'd call Ash arrogant before I would Styxx."

Alexion sucked his breath in sharply. "Don't let Acheron hear you say that."

"I know. Believe me." Urian sighed heavily. "Man, I don't know what happened between them, but it's a damn shame. Can you imagine having Styxx of Didymos train you to fight?"

"Be like taking lessons from Achilles or Alexander the Great."

"That settles it then," Danger said as she put the uncooked bacon back in the refrigerator.

"What?" Urian asked.

"We've got to reconcile them."

Alexion burst out laughing. "That is a pipe dream, honey. I've known Acheron for over nine thousand years. And it will be freezing on the equator before Acheron forgives Styxx for what he did."

She shrugged. "Well, you know what they say-"

Urian passed a knowing stare to Alexion. "We who are about to die, salute you?"

She rolled her eyes. "No. Over, under, around, or through, there's always a way."

Urian scoffed at her optimism. "Unless the rock falls on you while you're trying to go under it. Then you're toast."

Alexion laughed. "Well, she is French."

November 2, 2008

Styxx lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. One of the neatest parts about Agriosa's temple was the way moonlight reflected in through the windows to cast shadows around the room. Or maybe he was so bored as to see images where there weren't any.

The one on the ceiling right now reminded him of his phoenix emblem.

Yeah, he was definitely imagining things.

Sighing, he reached over to the table and pulled the bath salts to him. He took a small amount and rubbed them across his face so that he could smell Bethany's scent and pretend for one moment that she was by his side. In his mind, he could see her in her white dance outfit as she twirled and danced for him with her veils.

She'd tried to tie one to his wrist once, and he'd panicked so badly that it had scared her. But if he could have that one afternoon back, he'd gladly let her chain him to her bed.

His breathing ragged, he was so hard and aching-so damn horny, he couldn't stand it. He pressed his hand to his swollen cock, wishing he could go back in time and change things.

He should have thrown her over his shoulder and run away with her like a caveman on the first day they met.

"I need you, Beth," he whispered. She had always been the better part of him.

No, the best part.

Holding on to an image of her, he slowly thrust himself against his hand. But as he tried to find release, other memories surged to replace the tender ones of Bethany.

Fucking Greek whore!

Piece of Ariclean shit!

Tell me how much of a hero do you feel like now that you're facedown with my cock in your ass, huh, prince?

Styxx bellowed in agony as he shot from the bed. Why couldn't the voices of the past leave him alone? Why?

Unable to stand it, he ran to the pool and threw himself into it, hoping to drown out the voices that haunted him. As fast and furious as he could, he swam laps until his body was exhausted. Only when he was on the verge of collapse did he find any kind of peace.

His arms trembling from overuse, he pulled himself out of the water and lay on the frigid marble floor. Breathing heavily, he looked up at the ceiling where he saw the image of an Atlantean soldier in armor standing next to a woman who held his hoplon. She had her hand on his arm as they gazed silently at each other.

As he stared at it, he remembered the story of Bathymaas and Aricles that he'd been told in Atlantis. Perhaps that was the curse of his family. Their entire house had been founded on pain. On a woman's broken heart.

Now that he thought about it, none of his paternal relatives had ever had a happy marriage. After birthing his father, uncle, and aunt, his grandmother had taken her daughter and returned to her native Athens to never set foot again in Didymos, or see her husband.

He didn't even want to contemplate the misery of his parents' marriage. The death of his father's first wife while in the middle of labor ...

It made him wonder why his ancestor had assumed his brother's name for their royal house. Surely he'd known the curse that name carried.

The House of Aricles had been founded on tragedy and they'd ended in tragedy. Condemned by the gods from beginning to end. But at least Bathymaas's father had been kind. He'd taken her memories and had allowed her to live without the knowledge of her loss.

Turning his head, Styxx stared at the scar on his right hand where the Thracian had speared it to the ground. He could still see the insane, inhuman hatred in the man's eyes. "For all the lives you've taken..."

Maybe Galen had been right when he talked about the death of his son, Philip. Styxx didn't deserve to be happy after all the men he'd killed in battle. He'd deprived them of their futures and families.

Just as he'd deprived Acheron of his place as firstborn.

Perhaps this was justice, after all.

November 2, 2008

Artemis gasped as Apollo appeared in her temple on Olympus. "What are you doing here?"

"What do you think?"