Styxx (Dark-Hunter 22) - Page 135

At first she didn't see him. It wasn't until she realized her balcony door was open that she knew where he'd gone.

She pushed the door farther ajar to see him sitting in a corner with his legs drawn up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them. Appearing more vulnerable than she'd ever seen him, he stared out across the valley and was so still he looked more like a statue than a fierce warrior prince.

"Styxx?"

He said nothing, but he glanced over to her. She walked slowly toward him.

Unmoving, he watched her warily.

"On your behalf, I've made a deal with Apollo for your release." She knelt by his side. "He wants you to beg him for it. On your knees. Can you do that?"

He scoffed bitterly as if he didn't believe her at all. "Sure. Why not? What does it matter now?"

She reached to brush his hair back.

He caught her hand in his and stopped her from touching him. The self-loathing and shame in his eyes burned her soul deep. "What fee do I owe you for your services, goddess? You want to fuck me, too? Publicly or privately? Or would you rather I pay you in blood? I would offer you my soul, but it's already damned."

None of that was what she wanted. What she missed. "What of your heart?"

He glanced down to the necklace wrapped around his wrist and winced. "I gave it away a long time ago and it was crushed and broken. I have nothing else to offer you."

"Would you give me your friendship?"

Styxx blinked slowly before he looked away. "I have no understanding of that word."

"None?"

He shook his head.

"Tell me of this woman who has your heart. Could you ever forgive her for hurting you?"

"It doesn't matter."

That was so not true. It mattered greatly to her. "Why?"

He withdrew back into himself.

Bethany wanted to touch him, but she knew he wouldn't welcome it. Not the way they'd all used him. "Will you not answer me?"

"What do you want me to say, akra?"

She flinched at the Atlantean term that meant "lady and master." It was a slave's term they used for their owners.

"I'm just a whore and a dog. I matter to no one and I have no feelings." His emotionless tone ripped out her heart.

You matter to me....

Her gaze fell to the scars that crisscrossed his entire body. To the brand marks that lined his left side from armpit to thigh. Then she glanced to the jagged one above his heart that she used to always make a point of kissing. The stab wound his mother had given him when he'd taken his gift to her.

How many times had she told him that she'd never hurt him and yet she had done as much damage or more than they had. She'd walked away and abandoned him when she knew he had no one else to love and comfort him.

I have no right to ask for your forgiveness.

She'd been too careless with a most precious gift. His heart.

A tear fell down her cheek as she remembered the first time he'd told her that he loved her.

Sitting by her stream, she'd been leaning against him in the circle of his arms. He'd taken her hand in his and drawn an Egyptian heart shape over the center of his chest.

"Hector, what are you doing?"

"I'm giving you my heart, my lady, but please be gentle with it. It's brand new and unused."

"You're so silly ... Precious, but silly."

"As long as I make you smile, I will always be a fool for the woman I love."

"You love me?"

"Like the full moon loves the night. I might always be around, but I only shine in your presence. And no matter where you go, I will follow you, even if I'm a million miles away." He'd held her hand to his chest for her to feel his heart beating. "And this part of me will never belong to anyone else. I don't give gifts lightly and I never take them back."

That day seemed like a century ago to her and she could only imagine how much worse it was for him.

"Is there anything I can get for you, Highness?"

He frowned as if he didn't understand the question.

"If I brought you food, would you eat it?"

Again no response. So she conjured him a bowl of apples and set them beside him. Bittersweet memories tugged at her heart as she remembered how often he'd bring apples when they met. He'd use his dagger to cut them into slices then gallantly feed them to her.

"Why do you like apples so?"

At first she didn't think he'd answer then he whispered, "Easy to carry."

"Is that the only reason?"

He swallowed, but still didn't meet her gaze. "When I was a child, my father would send me to bed without dinner whenever I disappointed him. Which was a lot. So my brother would sneak apples to me before he went to sleep. They remind me what it's like to have someone who loves me."

Those words wrung a sob from her. "But you never talk about your brother."

He laughed bitterly. "There's no need to. He hates me now."

"Why?"

"Acheron thinks that just because he has it bad, I have it good."

"Does your brother not see the truth?"

"People make their own reality, goddess. We hate and we love for reasons that are known only to us."

And this was what she'd missed most about him. His heart and his intelligence. They'd spent countless hours talking about ideas and human nature. Philosophy. He could speak to her in numerous languages and whenever there was a Greek word she struggled with, she could use the Egyptian or Atlantean and he'd translate it for her.

"You still haven't told me your price, goddess."

She conjured him a platter of meat, fruit, and bread with a kylix of wine. "Eat for me."

Even though she could hear how hungry he was, he hesitated. Dear gods, what had they done to his food that he was so afraid to take any?

A sad shadow of resignation darkened his eyes. He picked up a slice of venison and ate it. Once he was sure it was safe, he forgot all manners and dug in to the rest of the food. She winced at the sight of her refined, dignified prince eating like a rabid animal.

And he cleared the whole platter. There wasn't even a crumb left.

"Would you like more?"

He shook his head then licked his fingers.

"Are you sure?"

Suddenly aware of his lack of decorum, he reached for the napkin and wiped his hands and mouth. He looked so tired and defeated. She ached to hold him and soothe his pain.

When he yawned a second later, she frowned as she caught a strange light of something.... "What's that?"

He returned her scowl. "What?"

"Open your mouth again."

Tags: Sherrilyn Kenyon Dark-Hunter Romance
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