Acheron (Dark-Hunter #15)(30)
Author: Sherrilyn Kenyon

"Acheron!" She hid her smile behind his shoulder. So he wasn’t quite subservient after all.

"I was only answering your question."

Sure he was . . . Her Acheron could be quite a handful and in more ways than one. "Can you dance as well as you play?"

"Better."

She found that impossible to believe. "Show me."

"There will be no music if I stop playing to dance."

She pulled the kithara from his hands. "There will be." She used her powers to continue the song. "Now show me what you can do."

He stood up and turned to face her. Holding his hand out, he waited for her to take it before he pulled her to her feet. True to his words, he was an elegant dancer. He moved with a graceful beauty that was almost godlike.

The more they danced, the more she ached for a taste of him. Her body on fire, she jerked him into her arms, intent on stripping him nak*d.

"Artemis!" Apollo’s call shook her.

Acheron saw the doors to Artemis’s temple opening. The next thing he knew, he was falling onto the floor of his own bedroom. The stone slammed painfully into his body as he landed flat on his back. His breath rushed out of him in a loud oof.

"You could have put me on my feet or in the bed," he said from between clenched teeth.

A bright light flashed in the room an instant before the kithara landed on top of his stomach. Acheron cursed in pain. It’d been a nice thought of hers, but damn . . . for a goddess renowned for her aim in hunting, her aim in this left much to be desired.

He’d barely risen to his feet before his own doors swung open to show Ryssa.

"Where have you been?" she demanded in a tone he’d seldom heard her direct at him. It was anger mixed with worry.

He set the kithara on his bed before he answered. "I don’t know what you mean."

"I’ve been looking for you. You were gone for hours."

It was strange how time on Olympus passed very differently from time here. To him, it seemed as if only minutes had passed. "I was nowhere important."

She narrowed her gaze on him as she drew near. It was a probing gaze as if she were trying to unravel a mystery. "There’s something different about you."

"There’s nothing different."

"Yes, there is. You don’t cower as you used to. You look at me when I speak to you. There’s a confidence and peace that wasn’t there before. What has caused this change?"

"I have no idea what you’re talking about."

Ryssa stepped closer to him, then froze. Her gaze fastened on his neck and before he could stop her, she reached out and brushed his hair back from his shoulder. She gasped. "You’ve been with Artemis."

Terror filled him, but he kept it from showing as he silently cursed. "I’ve been with no one."

"I’m not a fool, Acheron. I know the marks left by the gods." She looked at the kithara. "I know their gifts."

Damn it. He should have thought of that. But it was too late. All he could do was lie to her and hope she’d believe him. "I have been with no one."

"Why don’t you tell Father?" She turned to leave.

Acheron grabbed her arm. "Listen to me, Ryssa. I’ve been with no one. I know nothing of what you speak. If you love me even a little, you’ll forget this moment and pretend you’ve seen nothing . . . please."

She placed a tender hand to his cheek. "I love you, little brother. I would never betray you. If you don’t want me to tell him, then I won’t."

He moved her hand to his lips so that he could kiss it in gratitude. "Now what had you seeking me this day?"

"I wanted to go to the market, but didn’t want to go with a servant. I thought you’d enjoy the excursion."

"Why didn’t you ask me?"

Acheron looked past her to see Styxx standing outside the door with a livid expression.

Ryssa turned to frown at him. "I didn’t think you’d like to go. It’s rather common for you, isn’t it?"

Styxx curled his lip. "You’d rather be with an abomination than me?"

"Acheron isn’t an abomination."

There was no missing the hurt in Styxx’s eyes and it stunned Acheron that his brother would feel that way given all the people who loved, respected and admired Styxx.

"Why do you always defend him?" Styxx asked her, his voice laden with pain and anger. "Every time we turn around, you’ve crawled off to be with him."

Ryssa was aghast. "Surely to the gods you’re not jealous?"

"Of that maggot? Never!"

But he was. Even Acheron could see it plainly.

Styxx spun on his heel and stalked off. Ryssa ran after him and pulled him to a stop in the center of the hallway. Acheron went to the door to watch them.

"Styxx . . . what is wrong with you?"

"What’s wrong? The fact that my sister parades herself around with a whore and degrades herself by begging for his comfort when she won’t even acknowledge the brother who loves her."

"You’ve never wanted to be with me. All you’ve ever done is deride me and my actions as you are now."

He shook his head. "You remember nothing, do you?"

"Remember what?"

"Anytime Acheron and I were ever crossed you ran to him to cuddle him while you ignored me. Every time I ever reached for you, you couldn’t be bothered with me. Acheron is all that’s ever mattered to you."

Ryssa shook her head with the same disbelief that Acheron shared. "You cannot possibly be jealous of Acheron."

"Don’t you dare laugh at me." His eyes narrowed dangerously. "I am prince and heir. I can have you killed, sister or not."

Acheron saw the tears in her eyes over that threat and fury took him. He left the door to defend his sister. "Don’t you dare talk to her like that."

Styxx backhanded him so hard, his lip and nose exploded with blood. "Don’t you ever address me again, you filthy whore. I wish to the gods that you knew the humiliation you’ve caused me. Whenever I walk into a room, I see the snide glares, hear the whispered comments and jeers about my twin and his unrivaled skills. Because of you, I never knew my mother. I barely know my sister. I hate you with a passion so fervent that I can imagine no greater pleasure than killing you. If only the gods would grant me that one desire."

"Styxx!" Ryssa snapped. "How dare you!"

He curled his lip at her. "Don’t you dare chastise me. In the end you’re both nothing but whores. You’re beneath me." He stormed off.

Chapter 14

Acheron’s heart bled for his sister as he saw the tears begin to flow down her face. He pulled her into his arms. "You’re not a whore, Ryssa."

"Am I not? Tell me, what’s the difference between us?"

"You are loved and claimed by the one who takes you to his bed. Believe me, that’s a big difference."

No, his sister was kind and gently born. She was a lady. Styxx was an ass. And the only shit in the family was clearly Acheron.

June 23, 9528 BC

"Happy birthday, Acheron."

Acheron rolled over at the sound of Ryssa’s voice. Sore from a night spent with Artemis, he was slightly disoriented. He’d gone to bed on Olympus, but at some point Artemis must have returned him to his own room.

"Good morning, sister." She looked particularly radiant today. Her blond hair was swept up around her head in small braids that were held in place by the silver set of combs he’d bought for her a few weeks back when they’d gone to the market together. The light blue gown she wore made her eyes shine bright as she placed her hand against her stomach. Her pregnancy was just starting to show.

"Get up and dress. I had the cook prepare you a special breakfast celebration for just the two of us. The meal’s already being brought out."

He looked past her, but saw nothing. "Where is it?"

"Downstairs."

Acheron shook his head. "I’m not allowed to eat in the dining room. You know that."

She waved his words away. "Father was up late with Styxx. They won’t awaken for hours. I want to give this bit of normality to you, little brother. You deserve it. Now dress quickly and join me."

Acheron really didn’t want to do this. In truth, he hated venturing into the lower rooms where his family had made it clear he wasn’t welcome. But Ryssa had gone to trouble for him. The least he could do was humor her.

Leaving his bed, he dressed quickly and joined her in the hallway. She wrapped her arm around his and smiled. "This is the first time we’ve celebrated the anniversary of your birth together. You’re now twenty and next year you’ll reach your majority."

As if that would make a difference to him. "Is there a party planned for Styxx?"

She looked away with a troubled expression. "Yes. Tonight as there is every year."

"Then I shall make myself scarce."

The look in her eyes mirrored the grief he felt inside. But they both knew he would be as welcome at the party as a plague of frog turds. Without another word, she took him to the dining room where she’d laid out a grand buffet.

"I wasn’t sure what you’d like so I had them prepare a little of everything." She picked up a platter and handed it to him before she kissed his cheek. "Happy birthday, little brother."

Nothing could have touched him more. "Thank you."

He followed her down the line as she explained the various dishes to him.

As Acheron reached for a piece of fruit, she took his hand and laughed. "We don’t eat that. They’re decoration." She thumped it with her hand. "See, it’s plaster."

They laughed together at his ignorance.

"Oh, it does a father good to hear his children laughing with one another."

Acheron froze at the sound of their father entering the room behind him. Cold dread seeped through his entire being.

Ryssa covered her panic with a dazzling smile. "Good morning, Father. I was told you’d sleep late today."

"Too much to do in preparation of Styxx’s celebration." He clapped an affectionate hand on Acheron’s shoulder before he kissed his cheek.

Both savoring and cursing the embrace, Acheron closed his eyes and held his breath. His silver eyes would betray him. They always betrayed him.

"I’m surprised to see you up, scamp. I heard you’d taken three women to your bed last night. They pleasured you well, I trust."

Ryssa cleared her throat. "Father, could I have a word with you outside?"

"Absolutely."

Acheron let out a tiny breath in relief as his father stepped away from him. He set his plate down and took a step toward the door when the unthinkable happened.

Styxx entered the room with one of his friends. "What is this? What are you doing here?"

Their father turned back and cursed before he glared at Ryssa. "You deceived me?"

"Not exactly."

Rage contorted his face as he crossed the short distance and slapped Acheron so hard it unbalanced him. He fell to the floor, dazed by the blow that loosened his front teeth and shattered his nose.

"You dared defile my table!"

Ryssa stepped forward. "Father, please! I’m the one who brought him here. It was my idea."

Her turned on her with malice. "Don’t you dare defend him. He knows better." He snatched Acheron up by his hair and shoved him against the wall. "I want everything he’s touched burned. Now!" he roared at the servants. "And throw out all the food."

Acheron laughed. "It must really chafe your ass that you can’t be rid of me so easily."

His father punched him hard in the stomach.

"Father, please," Styxx begged. "Remember your heart."

His father slung Acheron sideways, tearing out a handful of hair as he did so. "Get this filth out of my sight."

"Guards!" Styxx roared. "Take the bastard out and beat him."

Acheron straightened before he approached his twin. "Tell me something, brother. What angers you most about me? The fact I share your face or the fact I know exactly what your best friend wants to do to you . . . and how often?" He slid his gaze meaningfully to the man behind Styxx who looked away red-faced. Acheron smiled at him. "Good to see you again, Lord Dorus, especially clothed."

Styxx let out a shriek of pain an instant before he ran at Acheron who tried to defend himself. But it was useless. His brother spent hours a day training to be a fighter. The best he could do was cover his head and try to protect his face. Styxx rained blow after blow on his ribs until the guards finally pulled him off.

"I want him to feel every lash!"

Acheron spat blood at Styxx’s feet. "Happy birthday to you too."

His ears clear of his pounding blood and Styxx’s curses, he finally heard his sister’s sobs as she begged their father for a mercy the king had no intention of giving.

One guard clenched his fist deep in Acheron’s hair, then shoved him out of the room toward the courtyard that he knew intimately. They should just move his bed out here and save them all the effort.

Acheron ground his teeth as his hands were tied and his clothes stripped from his body. He cursed the gods after the first lash cut through the skin on his back. Damn them for this. It was bad enough they’d abandoned him, but by condemning him to have the ability to heal most wounds, it made his punishments all the worse. Instead of scar tissue forming a barrier for his abuse, new skin grew each time, which meant they were striking virgin flesh with every beating.