Styxx (Dark-Hunter 22)

Chapter Forty-Two

To his shock and delight, he actually made it across the river. Bracing himself for the worst, he jumped into the water and pulled the raft onto the shore, out of the reach of the tide. He stored his pole then wiped the sweat from his brow. There was a huge mountain in front of him. It was Karnus, the mountain where the majority of the Atlantean gods had placed their temples.

Damn, that was a long climb.

Yeah, well, at least it's something to do that won't cut your hands. He laughed bitterly at that single truth then commenced his journey.

He didn't reach the top until well after nightfall. All the temples were dark except for the main hall where Apollo had first dumped him in front of Archon's throne.

Completely naked, Styxx had been bound in gold chains and gagged.

Archon had frowned at Apollo. "What is this?"

"My present to you. Styxx of Didymos. I was told by Athena to remove him from Olympus, and as I was doing so, I remembered you telling me during your war with Greece that you'd give anything to have him bound and tied at your feet for five minutes."

A slow, sickening smile had spread across Archon's face. "What reward do you want for this service?"

"Only the right to come and take possession of him whenever it suits me. The rest of the time, he's yours to do with as you please so long as you don't kill him."

Archon inclined his head to Apollo. "Your rights are granted."

Apollo had pulled Styxx up from the floor by his hair and forced him to kneel in submission to Archon. "In that case, have fun. Oh, you should be warned that he bites unless drugged. And if you fill him with Eycharistisi first, you'll see why he's branded as a tsoulus. He's remarkably talented when he has no control of himself." Then he'd leaned over to smell Styxx's hair.

Styxx had jerked away and glared at him.

Laughing, Apollo had sobered then licked his lips. "Don't worry, precious. I'll be back for my turn with you later." After one last grope, the god had vanished and left Styxx to the tender custody of the gods who had relished his total degradation and torture.

In that moment, Styxx truly hated Artemis and Acheron for having removed his own memories and replaced them with Acheron's while he'd been in Tartarus. If he'd been in possession of his own mind, he'd have never chosen to live here.

For Acheron, Katateros was a haven.

For him it was utter hell.

Had his thoughts not been wrapped up in Acheron's selfishness, he would have remembered how bad it'd been for him here.

How much he hated it.

But Acheron had no idea that Styxx had ever lived in this cursed place. That he knew Acheron's family much better than Acheron did.

Ready to confront his brother, Styxx started for the main doors, but the sound of laughter pulled him to the side of the building where lights shined with the brilliance of a sun. It took him a few minutes to climb up so that he could look inside and see his brother's steward, Alexion, and his wife Danger along with the Charonte demons Simi and Xirena. The four of them sat on cushions that lined the floor in front of a large-screen television, watching some show he couldn't name.

Acheron entered the room and moved to sit next to Simi while he and Alexion bantered. They looked so happy together. There had never been a time in Styxx's life when he'd been like that with his family. So relaxed and open. Laughing unrestrained.

In that moment, he remembered all the times he'd listened to Ryssa and Acheron laughing through the walls of his room while he'd been left alone.

Or worse, while he'd been forced to "entertain" Apollo to the sounds of their friendly reverie.

Climbing down, he leaned back against the stone building and tried to calm his ragged breaths. A part of him wanted to go in just to disturb their happiness. One look at him and they'd all stop laughing.

But he didn't want to intrude.

He didn't belong there. He wasn't part of Acheron's family.

Bending his knees, Styxx braced his arm across them so that he could see Bethany and Galen's names in the moonlight. How he missed sitting with her while she told him stories about her own family and how much they loved her. How her father would take her hunting, and how her mother lived for their girl-time excursions.

Styxx closed his eyes and let the agony of her loss keep him company for a little while as their laughter continued to reach his ears. He brushed his fingers against his cheek and pretended it was Bethany's delicate, beautiful hand that touched him. But his hands were coarse, cut, and swollen. Callused. They weren't the refined, soft hands of his gentle wife.

Tears filled his eyes as he missed her with every part of his being.

Trying to distract himself from something he couldn't change, Styxx glanced about the dark temples until he saw the one that had belonged to the goddess of wrath and misery. He still didn't know what all she'd done to him while he'd been there with her. Those memories had never returned.

But she had been nicer to him than the rest of her pantheon. Unlike the other buildings around him, that one held no horrible reminders of his time here.

Before he realized what he was doing, he headed for it. Though it was dark, the full moon cast enough light that he could see a great deal. Like the hall Acheron had dumped him in, it was pristine. It appeared as if she'd return any moment to reclaim it.

He went straight to the back, where the bathing pool was. The room was just as he remembered. He glanced to the white chaise where she had sat, watching him. As he headed toward it, he saw the tray of salts and lotions she'd place by the side of the pool for his use.

Kneeling down, he lifted the lids and froze as he caught a whiff of Bethany's eucalyptus and lilies. But then this had been her patron goddess. It made sense that she'd use fragrances sacred to Agriosa.

He started to put it back, but he couldn't. He wanted to keep it with him for a little while.

His gaze went to the room where the goddess had taken him to sleep. Cradling the small urn that smelled like Bethany, he headed for it and pushed the door open to see the same huge bed with red curtains that she'd tucked him into. Her symbol-a woman holding a bow-hung on the wall above it.

Against his will, he crossed the room and set the urn on the small table by the bed. He wondered if Agriosa had died at the same time Bethany had. Or if Apollymi had killed the blond goddess of wrath before then.

Not that it mattered. Both were gone and neither had deserved what Apollymi had done to them.

Styxx pulled the covers back and slid into the soft bed ... it'd been years since he last slept on a mattress. He buried his face into the pillow that smelled so much like Bethany that it made his eyes water all over again. I would give anything to wake up in your arms.

To feel her hand in his hair.

A sad smile curved his lips as he remembered her irritation when he'd all but shaved his head after Apollo and his father had used his hair to savage him one time too many. If not for her, he'd have never grown it out again.

But as much as he hated his hair, she'd loved to play in it and would spend hours at night twirling the strands around her fingers. Even when she slept, she reached out for it.

"Why do you enjoy my hair so?"

"It fascinates me. You're so hard everywhere else, but your lips and hair are like the down of a duckling. And I love the waves in it, and how good it smells. Grow it to your knees and I'll knit a sweater from it. Then I could have it with me all the time."

"If I did that, Beth, you'd have no use for me. I might never see you again."

She'd let out a heavy sigh. "Damn, you're on to me. Guess I'll never get that sweater now. I shall be stuck with you forever. Oh, the absolute horror of it all."

He'd laughed at her teasing.

Styxx clutched at the pillow as a sob choked him. It ever seemed his fate to lose the ones he loved, and then be stuck with something unsubstantial to hold on to that reminded him of them. Closing his eyes, he let the agony of it all wash over him. All he'd ever wanted was what Acheron had always taken for granted.

A single family member who loved him.

One.

As a boy, Acheron had held Styxx's love and loyalty, as well as Ryssa's. Acheron had always had Ryssa's heart, for that matter. While Styxx had been left with her wrath and rancor.

Over the centuries while Styxx had languished alone, Acheron had raised his Charonte daughter and been protected by Savitar, and Acheron's army of Dark-Hunters who loved and adored him. For almost eight thousand years, Acheron had Alexion here as his steward and brother.

It was so unfair.

"Listen to me, boy. Fair has no place in this world. Only infants whine about fairness. Men have more important battles to fight ... And life, like war, is neither right nor wrong. It just is. And rather than worry over a philosophy you can't change, you should just try to live through it as best you can."

Galen was right and he knew it. But it didn't make it easier to bear.

"I can't keep living like this."