Acheron

She knelt by the bed, her heart breaking at the bruises on his face… at the wounds marring his back. "I can heal you."

"I don't want your healing. I want nothing from you except your absence."

"Don't do this, Acheron."

Acheron cursed. "I'm through begging for mercy. No one heeds it when I do anyway. Better I should die on my feet with all the dignity a whore can manage than crawling on my belly like a worthless slave."

She shook her head as she tried to explain to him what had happened. "I was scared of what we'd done."

His look went through her like a dagger. "And I'm sick of being everyone's regret. My mother died in shame because she'd borne me. My father and brother despise me and my sister can barely look me in the eye. And you… you made me actually believe in something. I trusted in you and you lied to me."

"I know and I'm sorry." She placed her hand on his whiskered cheek, hoping to make him understand just how sincere she was. "I'm here now, not as a goddess, but as your friend. I miss you when you're not around."

Acheron wanted to shove her away, but the truth was he couldn't. No matter how much he needed to hate her, he didn't know how.

Her eyes tormented him before she closed them and healed his sore body.

He let out a tired breath as the pain faded and left him whole again. "Don't expect me to thank you."

"Don't be like this. I don't apologize to humans. Ever. Yet I've apologized to you…"

He understood what she was saying, but it didn't ease the pain inside his heart where she'd stabbed him. "I don't want your friendship anymore, Artie. You'll have to find another whore to entertain you."

Before he could even blink, she set upon him and shoved him back upon the bed. Acheron sucked his breath in sharply as she sank her teeth into his neck. This time there was no pleasure for him. Only pain wracked him with every drop she drained. Even worse, she kept him paralyzed so that he couldn't move or fight her.

It was an act of violation and he knew it. He'd had enough people attack him in a show of power to recognize it when it happened to him.

Beg me for mercy, whore. Tell me how much you enjoy it.

Acheron struggled to stay conscious as the voices from the past echoed in his head. The pain and frustration built inside him as impotent rage simmered deep.

Finally Artemis pulled away. By the bemused expression on her face he could tell she was surprised to see him still awake.

Acheron swallowed as he stared up at her with contempt. "Are we even now? Or do you want to rape my body as much as you've raped my soul?"

Pain sliced through him as all of his wounds and bruises from his beating returned. He cried out from the intensity of it as it increased even more than it had been before.

Artemis stood up to glare down at him. "You will not mock me, human. I've had enough of your ridicule." With that she vanished.

Acheron closed his eyes as relief coursed through him. Maybe now he'd be left alone.

But as he sought comfort in his mind, instead of the orchard he'd played in at the summer palace that one spring day, it was an image of Artemis that haunted him. An image of their brief friendship before she'd turned vicious.

He missed that respite.

"It's over," he breathed. He was through being her toy. His life had been controlled by others for far too long. It was time he stopped trying to please everyone else and learned to live for himself. He would never again allow anyone to have power over him.

Especially not the gods.

February 13, 9528 BC

Acheron walked through the center of town on his way to the stadium to watch the latest play. Entering the marketplace, he paused as he glimpsed a shadow from the corner of his eye. He turned quickly toward it only to see nothing. Unsure if it was Artemis following him, he ducked behind a small group of people.

He felt so hollow inside. So used. Honestly, he never wanted to see her again. The mere thought of her set his anger on fire and yet there was also a sadness so profound at the loss of what could have been between them that it almost brought him to his knees.

He didn't want to be used anymore. Not even for love.

Why not? You've been bartered for everything else.

He ground his teeth at a brutal truth he didn't want to think about.

"Grandma, he's cheating us."

The young boy's voice drew his attention to a table close by. An older woman was there with braided gray hair that was laced with black streaks. Her eyes were milky white and she stood with one hand on the boy's shoulder. No older than seven or eight, he had dark hair and a face so i

The vendor raised his hand in warning to the child as if he were about to hit him.

Backing up, the boy's face lost all color.

"Merus?" his grandmother breathed. "What's happening?"

"N-nothing, Grandma. I-I-I was mistaken."

Acheron didn't know why, but the boy's cowering went through him like a dagger. How dare the man take advantage of an old woman and her charge when it was so obvious that neither of them had much in this world.

Before he could think better of it, he stepped forward. "You need to give them what they've paid you for."

The man started to argue until he took in the full height of Acheron who stood more than a head taller than he. Though Acheron was lean, he was muscled enough to look intimidating. Luckily the vendor had no idea that Acheron knew nothing about fighting. The man's eyes also widened at the quality of the cloth he wore-a royal chiton Ryssa had insisted he wear whenever he ventured out to the plays.

"I wasn't cheating them, my lord."

Acheron looked down at the boy who gaped at his height. "What did you see, child?"

Merus swallowed before he crooked his finger at Acheron.

Softening his face so that he didn't scare the boy any more than he was already, Acheron bent down.

The boy whispered loudly in his ear. "He had his thumb on the scale. My ya ya told me to always tell her whenever they did that. She says it's cheating."

"So it is." Acheron patted him on the arm before he straightened to look at the vendor. "How much flour were you buying, Merus?"

"Three pounds."

"Then I shall watch as it's measured again."

The vendor's face turned bright red as he poured the flour out and showed him that it was indeed short of the mark. Cursing under his breath, the vendor added more until it reached the correct weight. There was malice in his gaze for Merus once he had the sack resealed and shoved it toward the boy.

"Merus?" Acheron said, keeping his gaze locked on the vendor who couldn't see his face.

The boy looked up at him. "Yes, my lord?"

"Should you ever find your ya ya cheated again or should anyone here ever hurt you, I want you to go to the palace and ask for Princess Ryssa. Tell her Acheron sent you and she'll make sure that you're treated fairly and that anyone who hurts you is punished for it."

His eyes lit up even as the vendor's darkened. "Thank you, my lord."

His grandmother placed a gentle hand on Acheron's forearm. "May the gods bless you for your kindness, my lord. Truly, you are an asset to this world. Thank you."

Her words touched his heart and brought a lump to his throat. If only they were true. But they weren't and the old woman would recoil in horror if she knew what she was touching the arm of. "May the gods be with you," he breathed quietly before he started away from them.

He hadn't gone far before Merus came ru

"My lord?"

It was so strange to have someone address him like that. "Yes?"

"I know we're beneath you, my lord, but my ya ya wanted me to ask you if you'd take bread with us so that she can thank you for your kindness. I know she's blind, but she's a wonderful cook. We bake bread for the baker who sells it to the king and his court."