Acheron

Cringing over her caress, Acheron pulled her hand away from his groin. "Given that it's been less than a week since I had my nuts cut out, Artemis, I'm not in the mood."

She made a sound of disgust. "Don't be such a baby. You're intact now. Let's celebrate by putting them to use." She blew in his ear.

Acheron jerked away from her. Naturally, she followed him.

Just give her what she wants. Otherwise this would only continue to the point she'd get angry and probably attack him. I would rather have my eyes gouged out.

Of course, they'd only regrow which made him wonder if his balls wouldn't have done the same thing even without Artemis's help.

Honestly, there was no use in fighting this. It wasn't like he hadn't been forced to have sex with people he detested before. All an argument would do was delay the inevitable and get him hurt again.

You might as well get it over with as quickly as possible.

He turned to face her. "Where do you want me?"

The words had barely left his lips before he found himself on his back, in her bed with her naked on top of him.

"I've missed you, Acheron."

He cringed as she sank her teeth into his neck and then he did what he always did. He pleased her and took nothing for himself.

She didn't even notice except to say that she liked it when they weren't as messy as they were whenever he ejaculated. Now he lay holding her while she purred in satisfaction.

And Acheron was still empty inside.

Artemis sat up and wrapped a sheet around herself. "You better go back now. Hades is hosting a party in Zeus's temple tonight and I have to make an appearance."

He didn't even have time to open his lips before he was back in his room alone-like a discarded piece of furniture she was through with for the time being. He went to the washing bowl and poured a little water out of the pitcher to clean himself with and shave, then he dressed.

Soul sick, he considered going to a play, but why bother? It would take much more than that to ease what was hurt inside him. And as he looked around his prison, his gaze was drawn to the wine that Ryssa had brought. Unfortunately it wasn't strong enough to fill the empty hole that burned.

Grabbing his coin purse and cloak, he left the palace and went to the street where all the stews in town were relegated. It didn't take long to find his old merchant. Short and plump, the man was bald with a mouth full of rotten teeth, and standing on a corner outside the worst brothel in town.

Euclid smiled the moment he saw him approach. "Acheron, it's been a long time."

"Greetings. You have any Morpheus Root?"

He licked his lips greedily. "Of course I do. How much do you want?"

"I'll take everything you have."

He arched a brow at that. "You got enough coin?"

Acheron held his purse out to him.

Impressed, Euclid pulled out a small wooden arc from the wheeled cart that to the uninitiated or naive appeared to hold only rags. He handed the arc to Acheron for his inspection. Acheron opened it and lifted the herbs to his nose. The pungent lavender wasn't enough to overwhelm the herb that would ease him.

Acheron closed it. "My thanks. I'll need the cord and pots for it as well."

Euclid handed them over in exchange for more coin. "I'll have more of it next week. Anytime you need some, let me know and if you haven't the coin for it, I'm sure the two of us could work something out." He dragged one dirty finger down the side of Acheron's face.

He didn't know why that offended him. After all it was a common practice for whores to barter their bodies for supplies, but for some reason it cut him deep. "Thanks, Euclid." Pulling his cowl lower, he made his way through the dark alleys back to the palace and his room.

There in the darkness, he opened the lid and mixed the herbs together. Strange how he could still recall the exact amounts to use.

"Inhale this, boy. It'll make it all so much more pleasant for you."

His gut tightened as he heard Estes's voice in his head. The first time he'd been given this, his uncle had held him on the ground and forced him to breathe it in. After that, Acheron had needed very little coaxing. His uncle had been right, it'd made everything much more tolerable since it took away all of his conscience and fight. It'd made him a mindless supplicant to whatever deviant act they wanted to perform on him.

He lit the herbs and blew on them ever so slightly to get them charred to the right amount so that the fumes would be potent enough. Closing his eyes, he picked up the clay mask and held it to his nose, then inhaled until everything that hurt stopped.

His head swimming, he stumbled to his bed and lay down so that he could watch the ceiling tilt and spin.

Apostolos? Where are you?

"Hello, voices," he breathed. They were always louder when he was high.

We want you to come home, Apostolos. Tell us where to find you.

He looked around the room and sighed. "I'm in a dark room."

Where?

Acheron laughed, then rolled over onto his stomach and groaned at the sensation of the coarse linen brushing against his body. He drew a ragged breath as his cock hardened. Artemis had thrown him out too soon. The drug was making him incredibly horny.

Then again, she didn't really care for the mess he made. Every time he came in her bed, she wrinkled up her nose distastefully. It was why it was easier for him to just screw her and please himself later when he was alone.

He sucked his breath in sharply as the sheet rubbed against his nipples. The pleasure was excruciating. But he refused to touch himself.

He didn't want release or any kind of pleasure. He just wanted peace.

More than that he wanted to be touched by someone who gave a fuck about him. And that certainly wasn't him.

November 12, 9528 BC

Acheron sat outside on his balcony, letting the chill winds freeze him as he realized his sister was in the window watching him. He motioned for her to come outside.

Her teeth started chattering immediately. "It's freezing out here."

"Feels good to me." He was actually sweating.

Ryssa narrowed her eyes suspiciously as she neared him. "What have you done?"

"I've done nothing. Absolutely nothing." He barely had the strength to eat.

She shook her head in anger. "You've been taking those drugs again, haven't you?"

Acheron looked away.

She gripped his face in her hand and forced him to look at her. "Why would you do such a thing?"

"Don't start on me, Ryssa."

"Acheron, please," she said, her voice strained as she released him. "You're killing yourself."

He wished. Glancing down, he turned his wrist out to look at the perfect unblemished skin. There was no trace of the cut that had severed his skin and veins. "I can't kill myself. The gods know I've tried. There's no way out for me so here I sit, biding my time until the gods end my life, while I try to stay out of everyone's way."

She brushed the hair back from his eyes. "You look terrible. When was the last time you bathed?"

He shoved her away, angry over the question. "The last time I bathed, I was accused of rape and then castrated. No offense, I'd rather smell."

She shook her head. "When was the last time you ate?"

"I don't know." He scratched at the beard on his cheeks. "What difference does it make? It's not like Father's going to let me starve to death. I'll eat when I have to. When they make me."

The next thing he knew, Ryssa reached up and grabbed his ear in a tight pinch. "You're going to eat right now."

"Hey!" Acheron snapped, but she refused to let go. With a determined grip, she pulled him from the railing and forced him to follow her to her room. She was so much smaller than him that he was bent almost double and had to struggle to keep up with her frenetic steps. "You do know that I'm bigger than you," he reminded her.