Right then, Styxx could have killed his father easier than he'd killed his uncle. "Where?" he asked through clenched teeth.

"A stew."

"I want the name of it."

"Why?" His father narrowed his gaze on him. "You want to fuck him, too?"

Styxx went cold. No ... surely not. "Too?"

His father slapped him again. "I never touched that filth. But why else would you want to know where he is?"

Because I might actually care and love my brother.

Yet he knew better than to say that out loud. So, he gave his father the only answer the heartless bastard could comprehend. "I certainly don't want to chance going to it and being mistaken for my brother, now do I?"

As expected, it placated the wretched beast. "Catera's."

"Thank you." Styxx headed for the stairs.

"Where are you going?"

"Ultimately to Tartarus, I'm sure. For now ... out."

"Styxx!"

He ignored his father's shout as he left the palace and headed for the center of the city. At this point, he really didn't care what his father did to him. What difference would it make?

* * *

"If it's a whore you want-"

Styxx cut the man off with a fierce growl. "I told you, I want to see Catera. Now!"

"She doesn't see clients."

Styxx shoved the small man back into the shadows and lowered his hood. "I am not a client and unless it is your wish to have this brothel burned to the ground and everyone in it arrested and then executed, I suggest you get the owner to me immediately and tell no one who I am."

He ran to comply.

Styxx covered his head again, making sure to keep his identity completely hidden. His blood ran cold as he listened to the bargains being cut all around. Worse were the fleeting memories of people bargaining for him....

"Can I help you?"

He glanced over his shoulder to see a tiny older woman with henna red hair. "Catera?"

"Yes?"

"I need to speak with you alone."

She shook her head in denial. "I don't do that anymore."

"I don't want to tup you, woman," Styxx snarled. "I'm here to give you the terms under which this brothel will be allowed to continue operating."

She made a subtle gesture for a burly man to join them.

Styxx scoffed at that. As if he'd be intimidated after everything he'd been through. "If you value his life and yours, you will see me privately, right now."

She held her hand up to stop the man's approach. For several seconds she debated then nodded. "Follow me." She led the way to a small room in the back part of the brothel.

The moment the door was shut, Styxx lowered his hood.

All the color drained from her face as she sank to her knees in front of him. "Your Highness, please forgive-"

"It's all right," he said, cutting her off. "Now get up."

She stood immediately. "What can I do for you, Highness?"

"It's my understanding that you have a ... an employee here who looks like me."

"Acheron."

He wasn't sure if he should be relieved or appalled. "It's true then?"

"It is." Fear and worry lined her brow.

"Relax, woman. I only want to make sure he's cared for."

She scowled. "I don't understand."

For the first time in his life, Styxx took full advantage of his rank and position. "It's not your place to understand. Only to obey." He pulled his purse out and opened it. "I don't want you to overwork him. He's to have half the week off to do as he pleases, and you're to make sure he has the best of everything you can provide him, including care when he's sick." He set his purse on her desk. "So long as you abide by that, I'll have money delivered to you every month. If any word of his abuse reaches me, I will see you personally held responsible, and the repercussions will be neither pretty nor enjoyable."

Her eyes glittered with greed. "Yes, Highness. Is there anything else?"

He shook his head. "Just take care of him."

She opened his purse and her eyes widened then she smiled. "Most gladly." She hesitated before she closed it and slid it into her desk. "May I speak frankly, Highness?"

"If you must."

She ran her gaze over the length of his body. "At first, it is quite startling how much you favor. But you two are nothing alike."

If only that was the truth. They were a lot more similar than anyone would guess. However, there was one important matter they differed on.

"Believe me, I know, madam. I'm the one who's a lethal bastard when crossed." And with that, he lifted his hood and left.

December 10, 9532 BC

It was war. Open and full-scale. His father had received the notice just an hour ago and Didymos, along with all Greek city-states, was rallying troops. They had to leave immediately.

Styxx sighed as he found no sign of Bethany at their spot. "Beth?" he called, hoping she was wandering about, as she did sometimes when she didn't know he was coming.

There was no answer.

Damn it.

He'd be gone by dawn. All he'd wanted was to see her one last time, and tell her what was happening. But then, she'd know. Everyone was well aware that the Atlanteans were stepping up their attacks and determined to conquer all of Greece. They planned to slaughter every royal family they could find.

But it wasn't his family he cared about.

"I will fight for you, my Bethany." And he would make sure that Greece stayed free from Atlantean control to keep her, alone, safe. The rest of them could go straight to Tartarus for all he cared.

He looked down at the ring he'd brought for her. A ring he should have given her on his return from Halicarnassus, but it'd been tainted by Apollo and he'd wanted to wait and give it to her when he didn't have something so brutal to tarnish the joy of watching her receive it.

Unsure if she'd ever find it, he tucked it into the base of the tree where they met and hoped that she'd understand why he couldn't wait for her.

His heart broken that he wouldn't see her again for who knew how long, he mounted his horse and left.

* * *

Bethany wanted to scream. She'd been waiting here for hours, hoping Hector would come. Given the vicious attack Apollo had led against his own people and blamed the Atlanteans for, she knew they'd be sending Hector to war again and she wanted to see him before he left.

This time, she was going to mark him so that she'd know which soldier he was.

Frustrated, she lay down and flung her hand over her head. She grimaced as it slammed into the tree behind her. Then it brushed against something with a sharp edge. Frowning, she turned over and patted the small knothole in the tree where Hector would occasionally leave something for her.

No ...

Tears filled her eyes as she realized he'd come here and she'd missed him. Aching, she pulled the small box into her hands and opened it to find a ring inside.

Desperate to know for certain if it was from him, she took it to her temple on Katateros. Biting her lip, she pulled it from the box to see a beautiful gold ring that was impressed with a winged horse-something she'd told him she fancied without telling him she actually owned one. And on the inside of the band was stamped the words ��I������ ������. Faithfully yours.

He had been there and she'd missed him. Pain shredded her as she realized she might never see him again. Please remember to carry my necklace with you. Please.

What if he didn't?

No, she wouldn't think about that. She couldn't. If anything happened to him ...

She would rain Kalosis itself down on every Greek. Archon would never again have to fear Apollymi's child. She would be the one to tear this world apart.

But how would she find him?

Because it was open war, the Greek troops would be combined and split. Some of the Didymosian regiments could be in the southern part. Some in the north. Or if enough men were lost in Hector's regiment, he could be assigned to one from another city-state. There was no way for her to know which regiment he'd be assigned to.

"I will find you, Hector."

She had no idea how, but she wouldn't rest until she was sure he was safe and whole.

Most of all, protected.

May 23, 9531 BC

Hephaestion, the Atlantean messenger god, shoved open the doors of the gods' main hall on Katateros. "The Stygian Omada is on our beaches!"

Bethany looked up from the precious letter Hector had paid a messenger to hide in the tree at their meeting spot while the gods around her scrambled to action. She grabbed Hephaestion's arm as he started past her to notify the gods who weren't in attendance, and pulled him to a stop. "What has happened?"

"They just landed on the beach at Ena. If we don't stop them now and turn them back to Greece, they could make it to the mainland and take the city."

She saw red at the mere thought of a Greek in her beloved country. How dare they! "Who leads their forces?"

"Styxx of Didymos."

Oh, it figured ...

Athena's dog they'd named the ����ύ�æ�oς o��ά�Ħ�-Stygian Omada-after. Fury blinding her, Bethany manifested her armor and summoned her horse and bow. This time, she was going to teach that bastard a lesson. In Greece, her powers were limited even when she rode with the Atlantean army, but here in her own lands ...

Prince Styxx would feel her full bite this day and wish to the gods he worshiped that he'd stayed home.

* * *

Exhausted from battle, Styxx wiped the blood from his face as he watched his army move inward from the beach where they'd landed. Though it'd been a fierce fight, they'd overtaken the Atlantean guard who'd been charged with the safety of their outermost island. Most of the Atlantean guard lay slaughtered on the beach. But a small contingency had escaped inland to warn their people.

"Fortify!" he called to his commanders. They'd need to be ready when the next onslaught came. There was no way the Atlanteans would leave them to advance without a staunch, brutal fight every step of the way.

Styxx winced as his side started bleeding again. Damn it ... Bethany's token only protected him from weapons. Not from broken wood poles and blatant stupidity. During the fighting yesterday, he'd stumbled against one. Somehow, it'd gone between the laces of his cuirass to slice and stab him across his ribs.

And it burned like Greek fire.

Trying to ignore the pain, he went to retrieve his horse then paused as he saw fires off to the north, not that far away, in one of the villages. At first, he thought the people there might be signaling the mainland. Until he saw the Greek banners that had been placed in the sand in front of it.

Shit ...

Against orders, his men were raiding.

"Galen!" he shouted to his second-in-command. "I need my dekarmatoli. Fast." The dekarmatoli were the ten men his former tutor had hand-selected and charged with making sure Styxx was safe at all times. After what had happened at Halicarnassus with Apollo, Galen had guarded him like a psychotic mother hen.

But right now, Styxx was going to need loyal men to quell this rebellion before it started.

He swung up onto Troian's back and spurred his horse to the site as fast as he could.

* * *

Bethany was furious as she flashed into the small Enean village where their followers had been desperately imploring the Atlantean gods for rescue. While the rest of the gods had gone to render aid to the bulk of their forces, she'd agreed to come and check on the inhabitants here.

The village had taken in wounded Atlantean soldiers ... wounded men who had been slaughtered by Greeks at the foot of her great-grandfather's statue in the center of their small hamlet.

She raised her hand to blast them all straight to their beloved Hades.

"Halt!"

That deep, fierce, commanding tone froze them all. Even her.

Curious, she frowned at the sight of the Didymosian prince as he leapt from the back of his ebony horse and strode angrily through the fallen bodies and looting Greeks without any backup whatsoever.

Was he insane?

The Greeks here weren't from Didymos. And they would have no love or respect for the young prince. Something evidenced by the derision on their faces.

His blue eyes full of angry verve, Styxx headed straight for two soldiers who had hauled a beautiful young girl from her home and into the street. It was obvious by her torn gown what they intended.

"Release her!" Styxx demanded.

Instead of following orders, the large, burly soldier wrapped his arm around the girl's waist. "She's spoils, Highness." He sneered the title.

"She's a girl, not property. Now release her or you will regret it."

"What? You'll have your men whip me?" He laughed. "I'm a Thracian. We don't bow down to a Didymosian crown and we hold no fear of your men."

The Thracians with him cheered in support.

Undaunted, the prince approached him like a fierce predator who was aware of every sword around him and yet feared none of them. "Then it's time you learn to fear me."

They all laughed at Styxx's bold words.

Wanting a closer view, and to make sure the terrified girl wasn't harmed in any way, Bethany flashed herself into the girl's body. Her arms burned from the soldier's brutal grip.

He buried his face in her neck. "She smells sweet for an Atlantean whore. I'm sure we can find one for you, prince. Now go back to your own men and leave this to those of us old enough for pubic hair."

Styxx's celestial gaze didn't waver as he slung his arm out. An instant later, the soldier released her and fell back, dead, with a small throwing knife planted between his eyes.

Bethany's jaw went slack at the sight.

Styxx had killed one of his own men?

To protect her people?

Drawing his sword, the prince put himself between her and the men who'd come here with him. "Get to your mother, girl. Fast."

Stunned at his flawless Atlantean, she obeyed then watched in absolute fascination as he stood alone to defend his enemies from his own army.

The Greeks attacked him.

He downed six of their soldiers before his reinforcements arrived to stand with him against the rest of the angry Thracians. His men quickly subdued them, and drove them back.

Styxx grabbed the one who had stood beside the first man he'd killed. "Send word to your Thracians that we are not here to rape wives, sisters, and daughters. Our fight is with the Atlantean queen, her soldiers, and their gods, not their women or children. Any Greek who defies my orders will be castrated and offered as a sacrifice to the Atlantean god Dikastis for their crimes against his people."

"Do you think they'd be so kind to our women?"

Styxx shoved him away. "That is why we're on Atlantean soil, fighting them before they reach our homelands. We're here to protect our families from Atlantean slavery, and I will not shame our innocents by slaughtering and debasing theirs. Now go and warn your men."

The prince returned to Bethany and the small hut where the girl had been hiding with her mother and sisters.

To her complete stupefaction, the prince retrieved a fallen doll just outside the hut then came to kneel in the doorway, on the ground by the girl's little sister who was probably no older than ten.

He held the doll out to her as she clung to her mother's skirt. "It's all right, little one," he said again in flawless Atlantean. "We are not here to harm you or your family. You have my word."

She looked up at her mother for confirmation.

Her eyes wide, the mother snatched the doll from his hand then stepped back to protect her daughters.

Styxx bowed to them before he stood. "Tell your villagers to gather together here in the square and I will personally see all of you taken to your city walls to be protected. If anyone is unable to walk or travel, let us know and we will carry them."

She eyed him suspiciously. "Is this a Greek trick?"

"I swear on my life that it's not. Please, good mother, for the sakes of your daughters, hurry. I don't know how long my army can hold the other Greeks back should they choose to fight my orders. We must get you to safety."

He went to relay his intentions to his own men who acted as if the orders were typical and expected from him. It wasn't until he stumbled and caught himself against his horse that Bethany realized he was badly wounded. Blood trickled down his left leg.

Yet he let no one know it as he quickly wiped it away and mounted.

True to his word, he helped round up her people and escort them to safety. Never in her life had she seen anything like this. A Greek who killed his own men to protect his enemy's women and children ...

It was unheard of, especially from a prince who'd shown no mercy to his enemies over the last few months as he fought them. The one thing everyone knew about Styxx was that he'd been ruthless on the battlefield. His army alone, remained undefeated by the Atlanteans. Utilizing new tactics that were radically different from the rest of the Greek forces, Styxx had waged a malicious and successful campaign against her people.

And while he was showing mercy to the people right now, she knew once they were gone he'd order the abandoned homes searched for supplies and then burned to the ground. It was another thing he was known for.

Even more curious about him than before, she paused by the side of his horse. Still in the guise of the girl he'd saved, she looked up to watch the prince as he oversaw the removal of her people.

He held himself with the same rigid arrogant stance that had irritated her the first time she'd seen him in Halicarnassus.

Or was it arrogance? Now that she was closer, she saw the torment and pain inside those blue eyes. The wary resignation and exhaustion that made him seem much older. And more vulnerable.

"Highness?"

His emotions evaporated into an expression of stoicism as he looked down at her. "Yes?"

She placed her hand to his black and bronze greave and noted where exactly in his side he was wounded. "Thank you for your aid."

He inclined his head respectfully to her.

Boldly, she lifted her hand to brush the hard calf muscle that bulged between the laces of his greave. "For your kindness, I'd like to offer you my services."

He nudged his horse away from her. "While I appreciate your offer and am truly flattered, I must decline."

Confused, she started away.

"Elea?" he called out.

Amazed that he remembered the girl's name from when her mother had used it almost an hour ago, she paused to look back at him. "Highness?"

"Don't let anyone, especially yourself, barter your body for any purpose. The temporary and immediate benefits are not worth the eternal cost to your soul." Leaning forward, he gently tossed an expensive brooch at her.

She caught it in her hand and saw that it bore the same phoenix emblem as his shield. It was the badge of his Stygian Omada.

Without another word, he wheeled his horse about so that he could personally carry an infirmed woman and her small granddaughter to the walled city, farther inland.

Stunned by his unexpected wisdom and kind charity, she went to join them in their trek to safety. A part of her still waited for it to be a trick of some sort.

As they walked, she scanned his men, looking for her Hector. But these were all cavalry. There wasn't a foot soldier among them. Another unexpected honor to her people that he used noblemen and his best-trained soldiers-not peasants-to protect them.

And as she watched him, something about the prince reminded her of her love, but Hector wouldn't be wounded. Not if he wore her charm, and he'd had it on the last time she saw him. There was no reason to think he'd remove it. Plus, the prince appeared a bit older than Hector. Definitely more stern and sure of himself. Hector was bashful and reserved. He would never rush into a fight so recklessly.

No, Styxx was not the man who set her on fire.

But now she finally understood why Athena had chosen this prince as her pet. He was honorable when others weren't. And he treated everyone around him with respect ... as if they mattered.

Even his enemies.

Still, this good deed changed nothing. They were at war and she would eventually destroy him for daring to come to her shores and kill her soldiers. His compassion today had won him a small reprieve while she saw to their followers.

Tomorrow, however, she would be after him with everything she had.

Entering the city walls, she watched as Styxx gently carried the old woman into Agapa's temple, which had been set up to receive those left homeless by these invaders. He turned her care over to a young priest, but not before he said something that made the old woman smile and kindly lifted her granddaughter up to sit next to her.

Honestly, it surprised her that none of the Atlanteans attacked his soldiers. It would be an easy way to end the war now.

But her people weren't as treacherous as the Greeks. They never had been. Instead, they honored Styxx and his men's decent intentions and allowed them to deposit the villagers then leave without incident.

Come morning, though, they would be at war again.

With that thought foremost in her mind, she left the girl's body and went to find her great-grandfather at his temple just down the street from here.

The Atlanteans were invoking his name and making sacrifices. Not that they needed to. Misos would have been with them regardless.

Unseen by their people, her great-grandfather arched his brow at her approach. "What news do you have?"

"The Greek prince is wounded in his left side, three ribs down. He will barely be able to hold his hoplon with that arm."

"Good work. We will see him dead on the morrow, and send his putrid Greeks home with their tails tucked between their legs."

May 24, 9531 BC

It was just after midnight and, as usual, Styxx couldn't sleep. As a boy, the voices in his head had kept him from rest. Now it was his conscience and recent memories that beat him so brutally. He hated everything war forced him to do to protect his men and his people.

Everything.

He cradled his aching head in his hands, wishing he were with his Bethany. The thought of her sweet touch and scent brought a rare smile to his lips as he wondered how she fared. If she'd found the letter he'd had delivered to their meeting spot. And if she was being cradled by Morpheus in her dreams tonight.

"Highness?"

He opened his eyes to see Galen entering his tent. "Yes?"

"I just received word that the Thracians are angry, but complying for now."

Styxx sighed heavily. "Tell me the truth. What rankles them most, Master Galen? The fact they can't rape any woman they find, or the fact that a child calls their orders?"

Galen snorted. "I see no child in our veteran ranks."

Styxx saluted him sarcastically with his kylix. "Both of us know I have no business leading men into battle. The Thracians were right today. I don't have enough experience for this."

Scoffing, Galen sat down in the chair beside Styxx, and retook the wine he'd been drinking earlier. "No other commander could have gotten us this far with as few casualties as we've had. Look at your history, my lord. Name me the only man who has ever made it to Atlantean soil with an invading army from any foreign land?" Galen paused. "There's only one. Styxx of the House of Aricles. Prince of Didymos."

Maybe, but he was tired of the blood and sickened by watching men, young and old, hacked to pieces, and for what? Power? Money? Glory?

What good was it when you only needed a single obolos to pay Charon for the final crossing?

Every decision he made, good or bad, ended with someone being slaughtered. With someone calling out for a mother, wife, or one of the gods ... With them burning someone's home and possessions until nothing but ashes remained. A lifetime of memories and savings to build, a few minutes of war to destroy.

Styxx raked a hand over his eyes, trying to banish the images that wouldn't leave him in peace any more than the voices would. He would give anything to have a handful of minutes with Bethany so that she could kiss away his nightmares, and give him something beautiful to look at.

Something beautiful to hold on to.

Galen leaned forward. "How's your side, my lord?"

"Like my head. Throbbing."

The old man's gaze fell to Styxx's hand on his cup. "You're still not wearing a signet ring?"

Styxx glanced down at his bare fingers and shrugged. "To what purpose? If I fall, I'm not worth the price of a ransom. Why should I go home when the other soldiers fighting under my banner would be put to sword or market by our enemies? Better I should join them in death or slavery than live on in peace, knowing I failed to keep them safe." He poured more wine for himself and then handed the pitcher over to Galen, who declined drinking any more of it.

Sighing, Styxx toyed with Galen's flute the old man had been playing earlier. "Tell me, Galen, how do you sleep at night? I've seen nothing compared to the battles I know you've fought and led. Please tell me how to make peace with my conscience."

The old man's breath left him in a ragged rush. "It's hard, my lord. I won't lie. And I walked away from this way too late."

"How so?"

Galen reached for the dish of olives on Styxx's desk and took a handful. "My father was a simple farmer with a tiny farm. I hated working it in ways you can't imagine. Every day, I swore I was going to get away from the pig shit and plow no matter what I had to do, or who I had to kill. And then one day, I saw an army coming through our back field. The sun glinted off their armor and they looked like proud gods. Before I could stop myself, I ran to them and joined their ranks. But nothing, not even our fall slaughters or a butcher's hall, had prepared me for the true horrors and cold brutality of a soldier's life."

He swallowed. "Still, to me, it was far preferable to that little farm I'd despised. The fame and glory, and in particular, the riches and women, kept me distracted for a long time. And then one day, as my army was traveling through another backwoods field, I saw the most beautiful woman the gods had ever created. Her winsome smile dazzled me even more than that armor had when I was a boy, and so I stopped, right then and there, to talk to her."

Galen paused to savor his wife's memory. "She gave me two fine sons and two beautiful daughters. And while I was at war, she buried our youngest daughter who was stricken with a fever, and our son who fell from a tree and broke his neck. I still, and always will, hate myself for leaving her alone to deal with that in my absence." Unshed tears glistened in his old gray eyes. "My oldest son followed me into war and I was so proud." His voice cracked with the weight of his paternal love. "My Philip was a lion on the field. Tall, strong, respectful, and glorious. I would look at him and thank the gods for their benevolence in giving me such a magnificent child. Who was I to deserve such given how many sons I'd taken from their fathers?"

Swallowing hard, he swiped at his eyes and cleared his throat. "And then the day all fathers fear came. I can still see him as I slipped and fell in battle. I lay there thinking it was my time to have my thread cut by mighty Atropos's shears. Crying out, Philip ran toward me to save my life. And just as he reached me, his head was sent flying by the single stroke of an enemy's axe." His eyes burning with rage, he wiped his hand across his mouth. "I pray to the gods, young prince, that you never know the horror of picking through bodies, trying to find a part of the only thing in this world you truly took pride in. There is no greater nightmare and it's one that continues to stalk me even when I'm awake."

With an unfathomable strength, Galen took a deep breath and calmed his emotions. "After my Philip was gone from a battle we shouldn't have been in, I broke my xiphos in half and swore I'd never bend to the call of Ares again. I was done with him and Athena both. So I retired to that farm I'd hated so much as a boy and spent the best years of my life with my sweet Thia. I watched our last child grow into the most beautiful of women and wished I had more to give to my precious Antigone and her children. Then one day, another soldier came to my door and told me that the king wanted me to tutor his brat for war. I laughed in his face. But not at the mighty coin he offered."

Lifting his cup in salute, Galen grinned. "How could I pass on that? Plus, it gave me the opportunity to knock around the spoiled son of the man who had ordered me into the unnecessary battle that had taken my boy's life."

Styxx snorted as he drank his wine. "I commend you on your prowess, Master Tutor. Whenever the weather turns cold, I can still feel some of your finer lessons in my bones, and in particular, my wrist."

Galen pinned a malevolent glare on him. "The moment I first laid eyes on you, Highness, I hated you passionately. There you stood, barely reaching my waist, in child-sized armor far finer than any I'd ever worn to battle for the sake of your father or that my Philip had worn when he was slaughtered in service to a king who couldn't care less about his life or death. You held your head high with a commanding arrogance that offended me to the core of my soul. And I wanted to put my fist through your pretty, pampered face."

"As I recall, you did. And then you kicked me in the ass and sent me sprawling, pampered face first, into a pile of horseshit."

Galen chuckled at the memory. "And you said not a word about it to anyone. You got up, took your training sword, and faced me as if you'd landed in a bed of poppies. All the while, shit dripped off you."

"I stupidly thought you liked me and feared what you'd do if you didn't."

Galen shook his head. "I know you better than that, boy. But it took me awhile before I could let go my hatred and see that what I'd mistaken for disdainful arrogance was afflicted defiance that was trying to stand strong against all those determined to watch you burn and to do the right thing for others, even when it cost you dearly. It was that boy, who even then had the heart of a man, who taught me to respect a crown I'd grown to despise. A crown I'd sworn to never again defend. Forgive me for the treason, young prince, but I still hate your father and I always will. He cares nothing and thinks nothing of those who fight for him. But you ... it is and will always be my honor to stand with you against any foe. In battle, you don't hang back and order others to die for you. You lead us in, and I've seen you, time and again, throw yourself against much larger and stronger opponents to protect your men. I've seen you carry wounded soldiers, low and high, to safety with no regard for your own well-being, even today when you're badly wounded yourself."

"And I see the faces of all those I couldn't save. The faces of those who stared into my eyes as they died by my hand. Who am I to stand as their executioner?"

"You are Styxx of the House of the most famed Aricles, the prince and heir of Didymos. And one day, you will be king. Who better to rule the kingdom than a man who realizes he isn't a god and who knows the value and sacrifice of those who serve him and protect his people?"

"I don't feel like a prince, Galen." He felt like a tired whore.

"And that, Highness, is what makes you the worthiest to wear your father's crown."

Styxx laughed bitterly. "I wish I saw myself through your eyes." His saw only his flaws and shortcomings.

To his shock, Galen pulled him forward until their cheeks touched and held him in a fatherly embrace. Then Galen kissed his head and released him. He set his wine down on Styxx's desk and retrieved his flute. "You should try and sleep, Highness. The morning light will bring more battle to our swords."

And more ghostly shades to haunt and plague his conscience ...

May 24, 9531 BC

Invisible to the humans around her, Bethany picked her way through the Greek camp, looking for Hector. She kept hearing his name, but every time, it was another soldier they called. Apparently, it was an extremely popular name among the Greeks.

Frustrated and angry, she paused as she found herself outside Prince Styxx's tent that was guarded by four men.

Really? The Greeks hated him that much?

Disgusted, she glanced around at the men who slept in the open and fought for him while he used them to bring comforts from home at their expense and effort. And one of those packhorses was probably her beloved Hector. Her anger rising at his pompousness, she entered the tent, and froze.

This was not the lush environment she'd envisioned for a young prince. The tent was empty except for a strategy desk, maps, a handful of folding chairs, a small washing basin, his arms mannequin, and a plain soldier's pallet on the ground.

He didn't even have a pillow....

Already dressed in his black armor, Styxx was lacing on his greaves. Alone.

Where were his servants?

His hair was much shorter than it'd been months ago when she'd first seen him fighting with Athena. He'd cropped it so short that it held no hint of his thick blond curls. And he was no longer clean-shaven. Because of the helmet he'd worn yesterday, she hadn't seen that his sculpted cheeks, upper lip, and chin were covered with dark whiskers. He smelled of oil, blood, sweat, leather, and horse. A far cry from Hector's pleasant masculine scent.

As he armed himself, there was no fear in this prince. Only a quiet torment that tugged at the edges of her heart. His eyes were shadowed with an inner turmoil and a raw intelligence that few mortals held. He looked far wiser than his young years.

As he straightened up, he grimaced and placed his hand to his injured side. He took several quick, ragged breaths before he expelled an elongated one and subdued his misery. He reached for his swords and buckled them on. His heavily defined biceps and shoulders rippled with every move he made.

Why do you fascinate me so? She couldn't understand it, especially since her heart was already claimed by an innocent, sweet boy. It made no sense. Perhaps because the prince and Hector were about the same height. And their voices were similar ...

Both were blonds with lean, ripped bodies.

Bethany sucked in her breath as the comparison slapped her again. Are you my Hector?

Could it be?

No. It wasn't possible. Why would the prince pretend to be a merchant's son to spend time with a blind fisherwoman? A man of Styxx's station would be quick to let her know he was wellborn. And he would never deign to beg a commoner to run away with him. Why would he when he owned the world in which he lived?

Everyone knew how much the king of Didymos loved and cherished his heir. The exceptional quality of his armor and horse said as much.

No priest would hazard to mar this man's body or his beauty with red-hot brands.

Not to mention this powerful, fierce beast would never be clumsy enough to fall from his horse and stumble alone through the woods to find her fishing spot. Her Hector was hesitant and sweet. Bashful and unsure. There was no uncertainty in the prince's movements. This was a man who was confident in his role and place.

Ferocious.

No one would have ever dared to rape him.

And Styxx would never deign to ask to kiss a lowly peasant girl. He'd take it if he wanted it, and dare anyone to punish him for his actions. And while he'd declined her offer yesterday when she'd been disguised as a young Atlantean woman, he held such powerful sexual magnetism and prowess that it was obvious he was well tutored in the physical side of Agapa's domain. Most likely, the girl hadn't been pretty enough for his tastes.

Or, more probable, too far beneath his station for him to touch.

Unaware of her presence, Styxx tugged at the laces of his vambraces to make sure they were tight. Rolling his shoulders, he reached for his helm and shield then left the tent.

"What are you doing here?"

Bethany looked over her shoulder to find Athena watching her. "Checking out my next victim."

Athena laughed. "You won't defeat my champion. His is a core of steel the likes of which you can't fathom. He has the heart of a Titan and the mind of a philosopher."

"All mortals fall eventually."

"As do some immortals."

Bethany glared at her. "You have brought your army onto our shores. Do you really think we'll let you come any closer?"

The mocking smile on Athena's face made her want to yank out the bitch's hair by its roots. "You didn't let us come this far. I do believe we've done it with you battling us every step of the way. And we will continue onward. The Greeks love my chosen prince. They will follow him anywhere."

"Then let them all follow him to your Elysian Fields."

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