Acheron

She laid her hand to his cheek. "I wish I could take you away from here."

She was the one person who could. But her fear was too great. Maybe she was right. What good would it do for her to be ruined over him?

He wasn't worth it.

Acheron kissed her on the lips even though he was still cold inside. He had nowhere to go and he was tired of being here with people who hated him.

Styxx…

In the blink of an eye the simplest answer to his predicament came to him. Why had he never thought of it before?

Pulling back from Artemis, he held her hand. "You should go before someone stumbles in here."

"I'll see you tomorrow."

Not if he had his way. "Tomorrow."

Acheron watched as she faded and the second she was gone, he immediately made plans for what was to come.

His father refused to let him die so long as his life was tied to Styxx's and Styxx was plotting the death of his father.

The answer was so simple. If he killed Styxx, his father would be safe and he'd be free.

Peace. He would finally have peace.

February 19, 9527 BC

Acheron waited until the palace was completely silent. In less than an hour the sun would rise…

And both he and Styxx would be dead. The mere thought of it brought more joy to him than anything else he could imagine.

More than eager for it, he held the dagger tight in his hand as he snuck past the guards and crept through the door of Styxx's room. He shut it with only a whisper of a noise. Like a shadow, he made his way across the floor to the large feather-stuffed bed where his brother slept. Heavy curtains hung to shield the heir from a stray breeze.

But they couldn't shield him from Acheron.

His gaze dark, Acheron pulled the curtains back. Naked except for his royal emblem necklace, Styxx was sleeping on his side, completely vulnerable.

All the years of abuse, of Styxx mocking him, went through his mind, as well as the memory of the way his brother had been willing to see him punished for the treason Styxx had committed.

Acheron lifted the dagger. One slash… one cut…

Peace.

Do it!

He started the downward motion, then stopped before he made contact with the prince's throat.

Silently, he cursed as he realized a horrible truth about himself. He couldn't do this. Not in cold blood. Not this mercilessly.

Disgusted, he stepped back as he realized he was a coward.

No, not a coward. No matter what had happened in their past, they were brothers. Twins. He couldn't kill his own brother. Even if the bastard deserved it.

Your pain won't stop until you do this.

He wouldn't show such mercy to you.

It was true. He'd been willing to see him beaten, gelded and even killed if his father had been able to do it.

Styxx had no mercy for him, no pity or even compassion and if he allowed the man to live, Acheron's abuse would continue. It would most likely worsen once Styxx killed their father. And once their father was gone, Styxx would hurt Ryssa.

He'd already made those threats. Repeatedly.

She Styxx could kill with impunity. Acheron's blood ran cold with the reality of it. If not for himself, he had to protect his sister and her child.

Styxx had to die.

"Forgive me, brother," he whispered an instant before he stabbed Styxx straight through the heart.

Styxx gasped as his eyes flew open. Acheron staggered back, into the shadows while his brother tried to crawl out of bed. Falling onto the floor, Styxx collapsed as blood ran from the wound and pooled onto the stone.

His breathing ragged, Acheron waited for death to claim him too.

It didn't and with every continued heartbeat, panic began to set in.

He felt the same as ever. How could that be?

Maybe Styxx wasn't dead. Terrified he'd only wounded his brother, he went to him and pressed his hand to his neck. There was no pulse at all. No movement or any other sign of life. Rolling Styxx over, he saw that his skin and lips were already turning blue, his eyes were open and glazed.

Styxx was dead.

Yet Acheron lived.

Horrified, he ran for the door and then past the dozing guards, down the hall back to his own room. No! The word echoed through his mind over and over as he tried to make sense of this. If he died, Styxx died. If Styxx died…

Nothing happened to him. How could this be?

Why would the gods have done that? It didn't make any sense.

You've killed your own brother. Your twin.

Acheron leaned against his closed door as absolute horror filled him. They would kill him if they ever found out the truth. His father wouldn't forgive this. They would tear him apart…

Suddenly an alarm sounded through the palace as guards shouted to each other and clamored through the hallway.

They've already discovered his body. Gods help me!

Someone knocked on his door.

"Acheron?"

It was Ryssa. Acheron opened the door to see her there, her face pale and hair mussed. She wore a red wrap around her blue gown. "I wanted to make sure that you were all right. Someone tried to kill Styxx tonight."

Tried? No, he'd fucking succeeded. "What do you mean?"

Before she could answer, he saw Styxx behind Ryssa, his face flushed with anger as he led the guards through a search of the rooms. "Find my attacker! I want him now. Do you hear me? Search every corner until we have him!"

Acheron blinked in disbelief.

Styxx was alive? He was completely unprepared for what this meant. Styxx had been resurrected.

Why?

Ryssa shook her head. "Have you seen anyone?"

"I was in my room," he lied.

As if sensing him, Styxx froze then turned to face him. Though he was covered in blood there was no sign of the wound that had killed him. "Guards!" he roared.

Acheron stepped back in fear.

Styxx pointed to him. "Guard him. My attacker might realize that to kill me all he has to do is kill him first. I want someone guarding his back at all times."

If only his brother knew the truth… Thank the gods that he didn't.

"What a horrible night," Ryssa said. "I'd best go to Apollodorus. I know all this commotion will have him scared."

Acheron didn't move as she left him. Through the crack in the door, he watched the guards swarming the hallway and searching rooms. His brother was alive. He couldn't get past that one fact.

So their lives weren't truly bound together. At least not in a traditional sense. If he died, Styxx died. If Styxx died… there was no effect on him.

His father was right. He was u

Why would the gods protect him and not Styxx? It didn't make any sense.

Withdrawing into his room he decided to wait out the search until the house was again quiet. Once he was sure he could leave and not be seen, he wrapped his cloak around himself and headed out into the dark streets.

He remained hidden as he wended his way through the alleys to Apollo's temple. Once there, he knocked on the door.

"We're closed."

"I'm from the royal house," Acheron said forcefully. "It's imperative that I see the oracle."

The door opened a partial degree until the old wizened priest caught sight of his face. His demeanor immediately changed to one of subservience. "Prince Styxx, forgive me. I-I didn't realize it was you."

Acheron didn't bother to correct him. For once, he was grateful they were twins. "Take me to the oracle."

Without further hesitation, the priest led him through the columned walkway to the back where small rooms were set aside for the priests and attendants. The oracle's room was slightly larger than the others. It was bare and stark with only a small drapery-lined bed.

"Mistress?" the priest called as he headed for the bed. "The prince wishes a word with you."