Chapter Fifteen
I should let you be gang-raped, bitch, and throw it in your face. See then how you'd take being bridled and ridden like a horse.
Ryssa headed for the stairs.
Styxx pulled her to a stop. "We need to talk."
She jerked her arm out of his grasp. "In spite of what you think, you're not king yet. You do not command me."
"Ryssa-"
"Go back to your whore and wine, brother. Or better yet, for the sake of the gods, get some sleep and sober up before your father sees you and learns what a pathetic waste stands to inherit his throne."
Unlike their mother, Ryssa ignored Estes and continued on into the palace.
Laughing, Estes moved to clap Styxx on the back. "That was certainly rude of them, wasn't it?" He leaned in to whisper to Styxx. "So tell me, nephew. Are you ready to pay me to watch your sister be violated and put in her place?"
A part of him wanted to see it so badly that it frightened him. He was so tired of Ryssa's and his mother's criticisms when he'd done nothing to deserve them.
It would serve Ryssa right to taste the degradation he knew so intimately. But as his gaze fell to Xan and he saw the giant size of the Atlantean, he knew that bastard would tear his sister apart. Just as he'd done Styxx.
No matter how much he hated her, he couldn't allow that to happen. He had to stop this.
But how?
September 19, 9532 BC
Since the queen's return, Estes hadn't dared to keep Styxx as drugged as before. It was both a curse and a blessing. And right now, Styxx didn't want to remember any of the past few horrific hours he'd spent while he occasionally heard his mother and Ryssa laughing together as he'd been kept against his will in Estes's rooms, next to his sister's.
With any luck, he'd never have to be so debased again.
Styxx finally got the rope free from his bruised, bleeding wrist. It'd taken him hours to work it through.
His hand burned from the strain of contorting it so that he could tug at the rough, thick strands. As quickly as he could, he untied his other one. Normally Estes chained him or tied his hands apart from each other. Tonight, for reasons he didn't want to think about, Estes had tied them together and stretched them over Styxx's head to secure him to the bed.
Then the bastard had passed out before he had a chance to part them.
Grimacing, Styxx snatched the gag from his mouth while Estes slept soundly by his side. With a deep sigh, Estes rolled over and threw his thigh over Styxx's. His hand quested a part of Styxx's body that revolted him. Careful, lest he wake his uncle, he disentangled himself enough so that he could free his ankles and slide off the bed.
His heart pounded as he considered his options. There was no way to get word to his father in time. Even if he did, he fully believed that Estes would be able to twist it so that his father would never believe him. His mother would be worthless. Ryssa was stupid to a supreme level.
If he tried to arrest Estes, everything would come out. And he had no doubt that his uncle would have him committed again and then taken to Atlantis to be bought and sold.
The only real option he had left him sick to his stomach.
But it was the only way to make all of this stop. The only way to protect his brother and sister.
Himself.
You're a pathetic coward. His own disdain rose up to silence the voices of the gods in his head. A real man would have already done it.
Yet it wasn't that easy. He'd never hurt anyone before. Not intentionally.
I have to do this. His uncle had left him with no choice. If he didn't, Ryssa would be raped, too.
If I let that happen, how would I ever be able to live with myself?
The same way he'd been living with his conscience and the humiliation Estes and the others had given him.
One heartbeat at a time.
But no matter what, he couldn't let Ryssa be harmed. Not when he could stop it.
And Acheron would never leave Atlantis. Not so long as Estes lived ...
With a trembling hand and abject horror in his heart, Styxx pulled his pillow across the bed. He held it to his chest, staring at his uncle's naked body.
Gods forgive me for what I'm about to do.
Before he could change his mind or run, Styxx forced himself to slam the pillow down over Estes's face. Estes let out a muffled bellow as he grabbed Styxx and tried to fight him off. Styxx wrapped his body around Estes's as he used every trick Galen had taught him to hold on and make sure that he didn't loosen his grip until Estes went limp in his arms.
Even then, he waited, afraid it was a trick. If his uncle had even a single breath left, he'd kill Styxx for this.
His hands were colder than ice when he finally reached to feel for a pulse.
Nothing.
He's dead.
I killed him.
Tears filled his eyes as bile rose in his throat. He'd taken a life. And not just any life. His uncle's.
His father's beloved younger brother.
Styxx pulled the pillow back to reveal Estes's glazed, open eyes. Ironically, Styxx didn't see the sadistic bastard who'd spent the last year molesting him ... he saw the uncle who'd been kind to him when he was a boy. The one who'd brought him presents and who had tried to help him.
Unable to cope with what he'd done and what had happened to him, Styxx ran to the chamber pot and unloaded his stomach.
My father will kill me if he ever finds out.
He'd committed murder. Cold-blooded. Brutal. A capital offense.
You had no choice.
But it didn't seem like that now. Not with this kind of finality. I killed my own uncle. My flesh and blood.
Horrified, Styxx fell against the wall and tried to fathom why his eyes were dry. He glanced back to the bed and gasped as he saw the ropes he'd untied. They would let others know that Estes hadn't been alone in his bed.
Panicking even more, he got up and quickly gathered them and any evidence that betrayed his presence here tonight. The second kylix. His gag. The "toys" his uncle had used on him. Then he closed Estes's eyes and put the bed in order.
Terrified and queasy, he snuck from his uncle's room and went to his, where he burned all the things he'd gathered until there was nothing left to betray him.
He set the kylix on his table and forced himself to lie in a bed that made his skin crawl. Guilt and fear, shame and horror mixed inside him, overriding any grief he might have known. And all he could do was wait for someone to discover Estes's body.
And accuse him of a crime that would surely cost him his head.
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