Acheron

Acheron laughed at the irony. "That would have been too merciful an act for you. Not to mention how angry your brother would have been had you neutered his favorite toy."

His father came off the throne with a violent shout.

Acheron didn't so much as flinch. "Don't be so angry, Father. It's not like you didn't know what Estes did to me. In fact his greatest dream was for you to die and leave Styxx with him too so that he could have us both in his bed at once."

His father's curses echoed in his ears as the man set on him with the wrath of the Furies. The first blow caught Acheron across his jaw. The next broke his nose and set it to throbbing viciously. Blow after blow rained down on him.

Acheron welcomed every one of them as he continued to taunt the king. At best his father would kill him. At the very least he'd be knocked senseless enough to not feel the full pain of what they were going to do to him.

"Father, please!" Styxx said, hauling him back. He turned on Acheron who was lying on his side. "You are nothing but filth." Styxx kicked his side so hard that he heard his ribs snapping. The force of it rolled him over onto his back. Styxx's next kick landed solidly between his legs.

Acheron cried out at the unbearable pain as his brother repeatedly kicked him there until he was sure he no longer needed gelding.

"Fetch the physician," his father roared. "Let's see this bastard finished."

Panting in an effort to get breath into his abused body, Acheron was placed on a cold slab of stone, his arms chained above his head while his legs were spread and chained. He leaned his head back and laughed at them. "If you're pla

"Gag that filth."

One of the guards shoved cloth into his mouth. Acheron saw the shadow of the physician coming forward. He tightened his grip on the chains, bracing himself for what was to come.

But no amount of preparation could reduce the pain of what they did to him. Acheron screamed out in agony until his throat was as raw and bleeding as the rest of his body.

By the time he was dumped back in his room, he was spiritually numb-if only the rest of him was too. Unable to stand, he crawled across the floor to the small table where he'd left a knife from his meal the night before. Reaching up, he took it in his trembling grasp.

He was so tired of begging and he was tired of being hurt. Unable to stand another day of it, he sliced open his wrists and watched as the blood poured out.

October 25, 9528 BC

Acheron cursed foully as he woke up in extreme pain. Why wasn't he dead? But then he knew. So long as his life was tied to Styxx's no one would have mercy on him. Ever. Overwhelmed by despair, he tried to move only to find himself chained again to his bed.

He cried out in frustrated fury before he banged his head against the straw mattress.

A movement to his right drew his gaze and he went cold at the sight of the small woman who stood there. It was Ryssa, dressed in purple and gold.

She came forward and the look of pity and guilt in her eyes was enough to bring tears to his own. "I didn't tell them," she whispered. "Styxx passed out and Father found you." Tears fell down her face. "I can't believe what they did to you. I know you didn't touch Nefertari. You would never have done such a thing to anyone and I've told them that repeatedly. They never hear a word I speak… I know it doesn't help, but Styxx broke off his engagement to her and sent her back to Egypt. I'm so sorry, Acheron." She laid her head against his and wept quietly in his ear.

Acheron kept his own tears inside. There was no need to cry. This was his life and no matter what he tried, it would never get better.

Besides Artemis would fix him…

He wanted to shout out in bitter frustration and anger at the goddess's cavalier attitude.

Ryssa stroked his cheek. "Will you not speak to me?"

"And say what, Ryssa? I think my actions speak loudly enough for even a deaf man to hear. But no one ever listens to me either."

She sniffed back her tears while she brushed tender fingers through his hair. "This is so unfair to you."

"Life isn't about being fair," he breathed. "It's not about justice. It's all about endurance and how much we can suffer through."

He was so tired now. But no one would let him sleep.

Through the walls he heard Apollodorus crying. "Your son needs you, Princess. You need to go to him."

"My brother needs me too."

He let out a tired sigh. "No, I don't. Trust me, I don't need anyone."

She pressed her lips to his cheek. "I love you, Acheron."

He didn't speak as she withdrew. Right now there was no kind of love inside him. Only anguish and despair and anger could be felt. Turning his head, he looked down at the stark white bandage on his wrist. They had it padded so that he couldn't reopen the wound to finish what he'd started.

So this was it then.

Closing his eyes, he thought of his future. Of nothing changing. Of living tied down and beaten… forever.

He bellowed at the weight of his hopelessness. Then he fought his restraints with everything he had. But it wasn't enough to break them.

He was never enough of anything.

Bellowing even louder, he took comfort in the throbbing pain of his wounds.

Ryssa came ru

Acheron ignored her as he tried to break through the chains that held him down. "I've had enough and I want out!"

She gathered him in her arms to hold him. He tried to fight her, but he couldn't. "I know, Acheron. I know."

No, she didn't know. Thank the gods that she had no idea how fucking awful his life was. How much pain he lived with. How much rejection.

He slammed his head back into the headboard and finally let his tears fall. Even though he was a man, he felt like that same little boy who'd reached out for his mother's touch only to have her backhand him. "Get me drunk, Ryssa."

She pulled back. "What?"

"For the love of the gods, get me something to make it stop hurting so much. Alcohol or drugs, I don't care which. Just make it all go away… please."

Ryssa wanted to deny him. She didn't believe in ru

No one should suffer so much. No one.

Against her will, her gaze went to his groin. The blood there made her sick to her stomach. The cruelty of what they'd done to him had been beyond measure-the fact that both her father and Styxx took so much pleasure from their actions disgusted her on a level she'd never dreamed existed. She would never feel right about either one of them again. "I'll be right back."

She ran to her room and grabbed the one bottle of wine that she had. "Nera?" she said to her maid who was dusting the chairs. "Could you get more wine and bring it to me in Acheron's room?"

Confusion wrinkled the petite girl's brow, but she knew better than to question her mistress. "How much more, Princess?"

"As much as you can carry."

Ryssa headed back to his room with what she had. He lay spread out on the bed with only a thin sheet covering him. Dried blood and bruises marred most of his body and the pain in those silver eyes stole her breath.

Aching for him, she wiped the tears from his eyes before she lifted his head and helped him to drink.

"May the gods bless you for your kindness," he breathed as he finished it off.

Nera came in with more. Ryssa traded bottles with her, then tipped it to Acheron's lips. It wasn't until the third bottle that he was completely drunk.

"Acheron?" she asked, afraid she might have given him too much.

He let out a long breath before his tormented gaze captured hers. "Promise me something, Ryssa."