Acheron (Dark-Hunter #15)(7)
Author: Sherrilyn Kenyon

Father laughed at him. "You’re such a scamp."

I bit my lip to keep my silence. How could he not see what a spoiled, obnoxious little troll Styxx was? But then Father had always been blind to Styxx’s apish ways.

"So why are you here, kitten?" Father asked. "Do you wish a new trinket or clothes?" The man had always indulged me. At least on anything that didn’t involve Acheron.

"No. I want to bring Acheron home."

Father sputtered at my request. "Now see here, what has gotten into your head? I’ve told you repeatedly how I feel. That monster doesn’t belong here."

Styxx curled his lips. "Why would you want him here? He’s a danger to all of us."

"A danger how?" But then this was so familiar an argument, I could answer with their excuses before they did.

My father curled his lip. "You don’t know what a demigod is capable of. He could kill your brother while he sleeps. Kill me. Kill all of us."

How could he say that? Acheron had never once made any attack on me. He didn’t even raise his voice. "Why do you not fear for Estes?"

"Estes keeps him under control."

With drugs. So Father had known about that part of it. It was all I could do to keep my anger from showing. And it made me wonder what else he knew about Acheron’s treatment.

"Acheron belongs here, with us."

Father came to his feet. "You are a woman, Ryssa, and a young one at that. Your mind is best occupied with fashion and decorating. Planning your dress for a party. Acheron doesn’t belong in this family. He never will. Now go find your mother and gossip. Styxx and I have important matters to discuss."

Like which of the serving maids Styxx would bed next . . . Matters so much more important than his eldest son’s life.

I glared at him. "Matters more important than your own son?"

Chapter 4

"He is not my son!"

I shook my head, unable to believe his denial. So Acheron had been right all along. Father had intentionally sent him away and he would never allow him to return. Why had I not seen the truth earlier? Because I loved my father. To me, he’d always been kind and adoring.

At least now I knew the truth.

Now I saw him for what he really was. Heartless.

"So that whole story you told me about protecting Acheron was wrong?"

"What are you talking about?"

He didn’t even remember his own lies. "You told me when they took Acheron away that you were doing it to protect him. You said that two heirs shouldn’t be raised together as it would be an added target for enemies. You said you would bring Acheron home when he was old enough. You never intended to return him here, did you?"

"Leave us!"

I did. The sight of him and Styxx truly sickened me just then. And with every step that took me away from my father, I lost respect for a man I had once adored.

How could he do this? How could he not care? How could the same man who coddled me and Styxx turn his back on his heir?

I returned to my chambers to find Acheron sitting on the balcony. He had his legs bent, his chin resting on his knees, and his arms were crossed around them.

He was sweating again. His eyes were hollow and empty. He looked so ill and frail. How could my father fear a boy who wouldn’t even meet someone’s gaze?

I knelt beside him and reached to touch him. He tensed as he always did.

Acheron didn’t like to be touched. No doubt he’d suffered enough touching to last his lifetime.

"Father isn’t here," I lied even though I choked on the words.

How could I tell this boy the truth? I’d begged for his trust, only to find out that I was a fool.

How could I tell him that if it were up to his father, he would again be sent to Estes to be prostituted to anyone who was willing to pay for him?

I couldn’t let him know the truth any more than I could let him go back to Atlantis.

"I’m going to take you to the summer palace to wait on him."

He didn’t question me, which let guilt roost in my heart. But what did it matter? I was going to take him someplace safe. Secure. Someplace where no one would hurt him or shame him.

I stood up and motioned for him to follow me and he followed without question.

We moved down the back hallways the way we’d entered the palace-like petty, fearful thieves instead of the heir and princess of this land. Acheron didn’t know we were being secretive or that I was terrified of what would happen if anyone saw us.

Luckily they didn’t and in no time we were gone again. But in my heart, I kept wondering how long I could stay away before Father dragged me home.

What would happen to Acheron then?

November 18, 9532 BC

The summer palace was completely empty this time of year. Only a small handful of servants were in residence. Petra our cook, her child and her husband who was also the groundskeeper. A housekeeper and overseer finished out the small number.

Luckily, they were all loyal to me and would never tell my father that I was staying here with a guest who bore a striking resemblance to the heir. I didn’t explain Acheron’s existence and they didn’t ask. They merely accepted it and made a room ready for him that was only two doors down from my own.

Acheron was extremely hesitant as he entered the room. By the way he looked around, I could tell he was thinking back to his old room where uncle had sold him to others.

"May I speak, Idika?"

I hated whenever he called me that. "I’ve told you repeatedly that you don’t have to ask me to speak, Acheron. Say whatever is on your mind." Uncle had beaten him so often for speaking out of turn that he couldn’t seem to break the habit.

"Who will I be sharing this room with?"

My heart wept at his whispered question. He still had a hard time believing that he didn’t have to use his body to pay for every kindness or staple. "It’s your room, Acheron. You share it with no one."

The relief in those silver eyes made my throat tighten.

"Thank you, idika."

I wasn’t sure what to despise more, his insistence on calling me his owner or that he thanked me for not selling him.

Sighing, I patted him gently on the arm. "I’ll have some of Styxx’s clothes brought in for you to wear."

He turned away before he spoke again. "He’ll be angry should he learn I’ve touched them."

"He won’t be angry, Acheron. Believe me."

"As you wish, idika."

I ground my teeth at his subservience. While Styxx went so far as to be obnoxiously domineering, often making people redo tasks just for the feeling of power he had over them, Acheron accepted anything done to him without complaint.

Wishing there was something I could do to make him feel safe and more comfortable, I left him in his room and went to rest in mine. I just needed a small break from the stress of worrying about him. The servants here were mostly elderly and the one thing I’d noticed was that older people seemed more immune to whatever it was Acheron possessed. Or if not immune, they were less likely to act upon it.

Not to mention, the staff would realize he was family and that alone would keep them away from him.

I hoped.

Weary, I went over to my desk and wrote a quick note to Father to let him know that I needed some time away from Didymos. He was used to my travels as I often visited my widowed aunt in Athens or would come here to the summer palace so that I could just be alone. Like Acheron, I valued my solitude. So long as I had Boraxis with me and kept my father notified of my well-being and whereabouts, my father was indulgent of my impulsive trips.

The only place he’d forbidden me to visit had been Atlantis-now I knew why. And to think, I’d honestly believed him when he’d told me it was too far and dangerous a trip for a girl my age to make without proper escort. Little had I suspected it was to protect his brother and his licentiousness.

I’d just finished writing the note telling my father I was in Athens, when I stood up and paused. My attention was caught by movement outside my window, in the garden. At first, I couldn’t believe what I saw.

It was Acheron.

How unlike him to do anything without express permission. He would barely move unless he was told to do so. I had to blink twice just to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. But no, it was definitely he . . .

Even though it was a mild winter, it was cold enough to need a cloak outside. Yet there he stood, barefoot, walking in the grass by the fountain. He had his head bent low and appeared to be curling his toes in the grass. It looked as if he was enjoying the sensation, but since he never smiled, it was hard to tell.

What on earth was he doing?

I grabbed my cloak and headed outside to check on him.

As soon as he saw my approach, he shrank from me until he was up against the far stone wall. With no place else to go, he sank to his knees and held his arm up as if to protect his head and face. "Forgive me, Idika. Please, I-I-I meant no offense."

I knelt beside him and took his face in my hands to soothe him. He tensed so much at my touch that it was a wonder he wasn’t brittle from it. "Acheron, it’s all right. No one’s angry at you. You’ve done nothing wrong. Shh . . ."

He swallowed as his fright turned to confusion. Dear gods, what had they done to him that he should tremble so when he’d done nothing to warrant it?

"I was only curious why you were out here without your shoes on. It’s cold and I didn’t want you to catch a fever."

My concern baffled him as much as his fear baffled me.

He gestured toward his room that held a small terrace which, like mine, opened out onto the garden. The door was still ajar. "I didn’t see anyone here so I thought it safe. I just wanted to feel the grass. I-I meant no harm, Idika. I was going to return to my room as soon as I finished. I swear it."

"I know," I said, stroking his face again before I released him. He relaxed a tiny degree now that I didn’t touch him. "It really is all right. I’m not upset at you. But I don’t understand why you’d want to feel the grass as cold as it is. It’s all dried up this time of year."

He brushed his hand over it. "Does it not always feel like this?"

I frowned at his question. "You’ve never touched grass before?"

"I think I did when I was small. But I don’t remember." He brushed his hand over it again in a gentle action that wrung my heart. "I only wanted to touch it once. I won’t leave my room again, Idika. I should have asked permission first. Forgive me." He hung his head down.

I wanted to reach out and touch him again, but I knew how much he hated that. "You don’t have to ask my permission, Acheron. You may come here anytime you wish. You’re free now."

He looked at his branded palm that held his slave’s mark, then clenched it into a fist. "Idikos said that the king made him promise I would never leave the house."

I gaped at his disclosure. "You’ve been locked in your room since you arrived at Atlantis?"

"Not always. When idikos returns from a trip, I greet him in the receiving room. I’m always the first one he wants to see. Then sometimes idikos chains me in his office by my ankles or to his bed. And at night I go to the dining hall and to the ballroom when we have parties."

And every night he slept in Estes’s bed. He’d already told me that much.

"But you’ve never been outside?"

He glanced at me, then averted his gaze. It was what Estes had taught him to do since so many people were put off by his swirling silver eyes. "I’m allowed to sit on the balcony between clients so that my skin isn’t so pale. Meara will even let me eat out there sometimes."

I’d learned from him that Meara was the maid who’d written to me and who’d helped him escape. She’d been the kindest of his keepers and the only one who’d made sure that he ate and was comfortable . . . when not entertaining. The other thing I’d learned from him was that Estes used food to control him.

Acheron ate only when he was pleasing to others. How much he was allowed depended on how many clients he’d seen that day and how happy they’d been with him.

The very thought sickened me.

"You love Meara, don’t you?"

"She’s always kind to me. Even when I’m bad, she doesn’t hurt me."

Bad. Defined by Estes as anytime a client was rough with Acheron and left a mark on his body. Acheron was charged with pleasing them in any way they wanted and yet if they wanted to be rough and he allowed it, he was punished for it. If he didn’t allow them to hurt him, they were displeased and Estes punished him twice as hard for not giving them what they paid for. Acheron couldn’t win this battle.

I clenched my hands into fists to keep from reaching out to touch him. I just wanted to gather him into my arms and hold him until the nightmare that had been his life was completely erased from his memory.

But how? How could I make him understand that he was safe now? That no one would ever touch him without his explicit invitation? That he was free to make his own decisions and that no one would beat him for voicing his opinion?

Or for walking outside to feel the grass on his feet?

It would take time. "I’m going back to my room." I pointed to the doors that opened into my chambers. "You can stay out here as long as you like. When you’re hungry, tell Petra, the tall older woman you met on our arrival, and she’ll make you whatever you wish. If you need me, don’t hesitate to come to my room. The day is yours, little brother. All I ask is that you please put on your shoes so that you won’t fall ill."