September 27, 9532 BC

"You repulse me, Styxx! What kind of man, and I use that term loosely, could just sit here and let his own twin brother be cast into the world alone? Without coin or clothing? Acheron's not the monster, you are! I wish you'd been the one Uncle sold. It should have been you all these years who was forced to be a whore handed over to anyone with enough coin! But no, you sit here in selfish comfort while your brother is cast adrift and say nothing! Nothing! I hate you, Styxx. I hope one day you suffer for all you've done!"

Styxx ignored Ryssa's shrill tone as she railed against him and called down the wrath of every god on Olympus to punish him. She'd been doing it steadily since she returned from seeing Acheron off.

Even without her insults, his own emotions were in turmoil. There was no longer any doubt how his father would react should he ever learn that his heir had been whored, too.

He's a repulsive catamite. He knew Estes's preference and he used it to his advantage. Think you, I don't know how that sick monster's mind works? None of this was Estes's fault. He was victimized by Acheron. I'll bet the bastard crawled into his bed and begged him for it.

Like Ryssa was doing right now against Styxx, their father had ranted throughout the night against Acheron. Styxx had no peace from either of them. And neither had a clue that every time they spoke, a part of him died more.

Really, he just wanted to run away from it all.

But one look at the strangers who eyed him hungrily until they learned of his regal title kept him close to his father's side. And while he knew Acheron was hungry, he knew his brother wasn't being molested or beaten.

At least not yet.

Why couldn't you have gone away with me when I tried to free you, Acheron?

Just once?

But then he wouldn't have met his Bethany and ...

"Shit!" Styxx cursed as Ryssa kicked him hard in the shin.

"You're not even listening to me, are you, you little pig!"

"I hear every precious word that falls from your dainty lips, sweet sister."

She kicked him again.

Hissing, he glared at her and moved his legs so that she couldn't reach them. Thank the gods she wasn't any taller.

"Why am I stuck with you as my brother?"

Styxx didn't respond as they reached the docks and he descended from the wheeled litter. He reached up to help her down. She spat in his face and ignored his hand.

Grinding his teeth, he wiped his cheek.

As they neared the ramp, she turned on him with a vicious sneer. "I wish they'd drag you belowdecks and rape you the whole way home like they did poor Acheron when I tried to help him."

That explained those pains ...

"And had you not been so stupid, Ryssa, that wouldn't have happened. What kind of moron attempts to take a marked slave onto a passenger ship? You're far too old to be so puerile."

She slapped him before turning in a huff and leaving him to trail in her wake.

His father clapped him on the back as he reached him. "I know she plagues you, boy, but you have to admire and respect her spirit."

Ah ... Ryssa's disrespect was cute and spirited, while Styxx's was never to be tolerated.

Scowling in distaste, Styxx stopped as his father continued on. He'd never understand his father's complicated and arbitrary double standards. And honestly, he was tired of trying.

At the top of the deck, Styxx stopped and looked back at Atlantis. In spite of it all, he wished his brother well and he hoped Acheron made it to Greece before the pending war broke out.

But regardless ...

"May the gods grant you peace somewhere, little brother."

Glancing over to Ryssa, who eyed him like he was filth, he sighed knowing the gods had no intention of granting any to him.

October 6, 9532 BC

Styxx reined Troian to a stop as he caught sight of Bethany at their spot. In spite of the day's warmth, she was covered from neck to ankle in a peculiar white garment that obscured every part of her. Yet as she moved, he heard light jingling bells. She'd placed flowers on the blanket along with a small drum. Her sandals were left to the side of it, near a jug of wine and a small platter of cheese and crisp, flat bread.

Baffled and curious, he slid from his mount and left his horse to graze. "Beth?"

A beautiful, welcoming smile curved her lips as she turned in his direction. "Hector?"

"I'm right here, love." He dropped his saddlebag next to the blanket and touched her lightly on the shoulder.

Rising up on her tiptoes, she placed a chaste kiss to his lips. Her scent hit him and made his body instantly hard as his senses reeled from her gentle ways, and warm reception.

"Where's your pole?" he asked. She normally kept it near the pond.

A teasing light made her eyes sparkle as she reached down to stroke his hard cock. "Right here, it seems."

He arched a brow at that. As always whenever she touched him, he couldn't quite think straight.

She stepped back. "I thought today we'd do something a little different."

"Whatever my lady wishes."

She bit her lip seductively. "Can you play any instruments?"

"Sadly, no. My father thinks they're a complete waste of time and boorish. Why?"

She sank down to the blanket and pulled him to sit beside her. "The why is a surprise." She reached for the drum then placed it in his lap. Taking his hands into hers, she showed him how to keep a basic rhythm.

He felt odd and self-conscious with the small round drum as he waited for her to criticize his efforts. As a boy, he'd tried to play a flute, lyre, and drum, and had seen each burned in turn by his father, sister, or mother, who quickly told him he was inept and stupid for even attempting that which the gods had given him absolutely no talent for.

But Bethany didn't say a word. She merely smiled and kissed him then rose to her feet.

"Don't stop," she said when he slowed his pace.

Styxx returned to what she'd taught him. Frowning, he watched as she pulled finger cymbals from her basket and slid them onto her hand. Next, she pulled out a sistrum. Before he could ask what she intended, she loosened the ribbon at her neck and dropped her outer garment to the ground.

His throat suddenly dry, Styxx froze at the sight of her in a very sheer white outfit the likes of which he'd never seen. The small top was heavily beaded with pearls and shiny silver disks. It cupped her full breasts and lifted them high, and left the swell of them exposed for his hungry gaze. The top stopped just below her breasts and left her abdomen completely bare. Not that it mattered. The material was so sheer that he could easily see the full outline of her breasts and puckered nipples that made him hunger for a quick taste. Three rows of pearls fell from the middle of the top to brush against the perfection of her belly where she'd painted Egyptian symbols for the goddess Hathor.

Silver armbands encircled her biceps. Two rows of tiny bells secured to them and the hem of her skirt were what made the jingling sound he'd heard on his arrival. She wore additional bells as anklets.

Her wide, full skirt had slits at each side that went all the way up to the thick beaded silver belt that had numerous white veils fastened to it. Like the top, it was sheer enough that he could see the full outline of her body and the dark hair at the juncture of her thighs.

"You stopped playing, my lord."

He wanted to say something witty in response, but his brain seemed to have stopped completely. His jaw worked, yet no sound came out as her beauty left him completely senseless. Thank the gods she couldn't see what an idiot he was. Otherwise, she'd be running as far from him as she could. He wasn't all that sure he hadn't drooled on himself.

"Hector? Are you still with me?"

"I'm here, my lady. Just completely overwhelmed by the magnitude of your grace. Your beauty has rendered me quite useless for the moment."

She smiled at him. "Keep playing, my love. I have a treat for you."

"I can't imagine anything sweeter than what I'm already savoring."

"Keep playing."

He wasn't sure how he managed it, but he obeyed. And as he did so, she began what had to be the most erotic dance he'd ever seen in his life. With every graceful move of her arm or swaying of her hips, her bells, cymbals, and sistrum rang and his body sizzled. He'd never seen anything like it. If this was how the Egyptians trained their daughters, he wondered how any of them managed to leave their bedchambers. No wonder they had such large families....

As she danced, she freed her veils. Her hips and shoulders moving in perfect synchronicity, she sank down by his side and continued to undulate in time to the music they made. He was completely captivated.

Until she tied one end of her scarf to his wrist and lightly tugged on it.

Reacting on pure instinct, Styxx shot to his feet, leaving the drum to roll away. He tore the frail scarf off him until it was shredded.

Bethany froze as she heard Hector's ragged breathing and felt his panicked anger. "Hector?" It took her a moment to find him. He was pacing near a tree and shaking uncontrollably. "Are you all right?"

He didn't speak. He walked about in a feral panic as if waiting to be attacked.

"Hector? Precious ... Speak to me. Tell me what's happening?"

Styxx tried to calm down, he did. But it was so hard as horrifying memories assailed him. "I don't like to be tied to anything. Honestly, I don't even like to have walls or doors around me." He laughed bitterly. "I even keep a window open on the coldest nights just so that I know I have a way out should I need it."

Bethany felt the tears prick her eyes as she realized the true terror of his past. They would have tied him down to torture him, and probably when they raped him, too. "I'm so sorry, Hector. I didn't think."

He pulled her against him and held her close. "Don't apologize, Beth. You went to a lot of effort for me ... to make this day special, and I ruined it. I'm the one who's sorry."

She sank her hand into his soft hair and pressed her cheek against his. "Never apologize to me for your pain. What was done to you was wrong and it wasn't your fault. You have the most amazing heart of anyone I've ever met. In spite of what the world has done to you, you still carry on with quiet dignity and humor. It's what I love about you. You are a true warrior, brave to the core of your soul."

Styxx swallowed the lump of pain in his throat that choked him. Funny, he didn't feel brave. He felt more like a frightened mouse, cowering in the corner. He would never understand how a woman as wonderful as Bethany could stand to be with him.

His hand trembling, he picked the torn veil up from the ground and returned it to her. He would buy her a new one the next time he was at the market. "I will try not to overreact."

She squeezed his fingers. "I respect your pain, my lord. I won't do it again. I promise. There are plenty of other things we can do."

He arched a brow at that. "Such as?"

She loosened her belt and sent her skirt straight to her feet. Completely bare from the waist down, she smiled as she knelt in front of him and lifted the hem of his chiton until he was as exposed to her as she was to him. To his complete shock and utter pleasure, she slowly drew him into her mouth.

A single tear slid down his cheek as he truly felt her love for him. Only Bethany had never judged him or caused him harm. In all the world, she alone made him feel human and manly. Normal. She didn't see a prince to be hated or a boy to be scorned. She didn't insert ideas and words into his actions that he never intended.

Bethany accepted him as he was. Scars and all. She didn't use his past against him. She didn't throw his words in his face. All she did was love him with her heart and rare goodness.

"I love you, Beth," he whispered.

She pulled back to lick him then smiled up at his face. "I love you, too."

In that moment, he almost told her the truth of who he was. But the fear in his heart locked his lips together. Being a prince had never served him well. The only happiness and acceptance he had in his miserable existence was found in these afternoons with her. If he were to ever lose them ...

He'd rather be confined in the Dionysion again.

Don't ever leave me, Beth.

Because if she did, he feared what he'd become. But in his heart, he knew this couldn't last. Nothing ever did.

Not the bad ...

And especially not the good.

October 14, 9532 BC

"I know something's on your mind, sweetest. What is it?"

Styxx sighed as he held Bethany's naked body against his. He was so grateful for these preciously few moments with her. She lay facedown with her head resting on his chest while he leaned against an ancient tree where they sometimes left things for each other. The bark bit into his back, but he was so content with her on top of him that he didn't care or protest.

His thoughts sought a way to break his news to her as he toyed with the tiny shell-shaped bells on the silver armbands she wore whenever she danced for him. Just thinking about the sensual Egyptian dances she performed made him hard again.

Closing his eyes, he decided there was no easy way to break it to her. "I have to leave tomorrow, my lady. And I don't know when I'll be back."

Gasping, she shot up instantly and almost kneed his groin as she tried to feel his facial expression.

He placed her palm against his cheek and mouth so that she would know how serious it was.

"Why?"

"Atlantis has attacked a kingdom in the south. King Xerxes is assembling a contingency to render aid and march against them."

"But you're a merchant's son!"

"He's demanding any free man my age and above to go." A partial lie he hoped she didn't call him on. The law stipulated that their army consist of any free man above the age of eight-and-ten, and single noblemen over the age of one-and-twenty. It was unheard of for someone his age to be sent. But, in spite of Galen's defiant protests, his father had insisted Styxx go to fight.

"Not another word, Galen, or I'll have you whipped ... He is going. Perhaps this will finally make a man of him!" Styxx ground his teeth in memory of his father's hate-filled words from the night before.

She shook her head. "No. I won't let you."

"I have no choice."

"Have you any training whatsoever, Hector?"

"Some." Actually, he had a great deal more than many of their men. Most only trained two weeks out of the year. The rest alternated days in the public barracks, and trained with Galen's hand picked instructors a few days each month.

Tears filled her eyes. "War is brutal. It's ... you can't go. You can't! I quite forbid it."

Those words lightened his heart and made it ache simultaneously. "I don't want to leave you, akribos. Believe me. But it's treason for any man to refuse a hoplon and xiphos when he's called. I'd be locked away if I didn't go."

And he hated that. Bethany knew from their time together there was nothing he despised more. He didn't even like for her to playfully tie his hands. Her Hector couldn't stand any kind of bondage game. Not even a frail scarf around his wrist.

To be confined for real would kill him.

Terrified for her human, she reached up and removed the necklace that had never been off her since the day her father had placed it there. She closed her eyes and imbued it with protective power. Taking his hand, she wound the leather cord around his wrist and secured it, knowing his vambrace would cover it and it wouldn't accidentally fall off in battle. "Then you take this and don't remove it for anything."

"Why?"

"It will protect you as it has always protected me."

"Beth-"

"I promise you, Hector. So long as you wear it, no blade or arrow will be able to cut you. Not even one forged by the gods. Please, don't take it off for anything."

He kissed her cheek. "All right. I will keep it where you put it until I return to you."

Her bells jingling, she laid herself back over him.

Styxx felt her hot tears on his skin. For a full minute, he couldn't breathe. No one had ever shed a single tear for him before. Not even his own twin. He touched the moisture, amazed by it.

"Don't cry, Beth. I'm not worth this."

"You are to me, and I will make sure the gods end this quickly so that you return to me. You are taking my heart with you ... Please, please be careful."

"I will, and I will be counting down the heartbeats until my return."

And for the first time in his life, he wanted to live to come home. He finally had a reason to.

October 15, 9532 BC

Dressed in his black and bronze armor, Styxx walked down the stairs toward the front door with his helm cradled beneath his arm. Concealed by his vambrace, Bethany's necklace was still wrapped around his left wrist where she'd placed it.

His father, mother, and sister were gathered to see him off ... In theory anyway.

Drunk, his mother raked a glare over him. "May the Atlanteans gut you on your first day so fast you feel no pain from it."

The servants close enough to hear her sucked their breaths in sharply.

Styxx didn't react at all. "Thank you, Matisera. From you, I could wish no sweeter parting words."

Ryssa's expression was just as cold. "I know you won't die. I'm sure you'll cower behind the others as you always do, or stack them in front of you so you can use them for a shield."

"May the gods continue to bless you with your kind disposition in my absence, sweet sister."

She sneered at him. "I hope your horse throws you in the midst of battle right into the heart of our enemies."

"Ignore them." His father drew him into a light embrace. "Return with honor, boy."

Styxx had to fight not to roll his eyes. His father had drilled that into him the night before. "Whatever you do, boy, don't you dare embarrass me with the other kings and generals. I will not stand for it."

�@H ��άv �@H ����ί ��άς-either with your shield or upon it.

And with that in mind, Styxx slid his signet ring from his finger and handed it to his father, who scowled at his actions.

"They can't ransom me if they don't know who I am and if they have no proof they hold me."

"Styxx-"

He held his hand up to silence his king. "Keep it, Father. I don't want it." The house of Aricles was cursed and he didn't desire anything with him that reminded him of people who begrudged him every breath he took. If he was riding to his death then he only wanted Bethany's token with him. Let him die with her face and memory in his heart, not theirs.

Without looking back, Styxx left his "family" and headed down the steps to where Galen waited with Troian. By Galen's grim expression, Styxx could tell his mentor was as thrilled by their generous farewells as he was.

"Are you all right, Highness?"

Styxx slammed his helm down on his head then swung up on the back of his stallion, who was as black as his mood. He took his hoplon from his old trainer's hand and slid it to his back for the ride. "Fine, Galen. Thank you for asking."

Frowning, Galen glanced up at the royal family while Styxx spurred his horse forward without bothering to look back at them. He knew where all of them stood on his well-being.

Gods willing, they'd all get their wish to not see him again.

October 25, 9532 BC

Styxx let out an elongated breath. Tomorrow, they would be in battle. For the last few hours, he'd worked with Galen on the speech he was supposed to deliver to their men to rally, unite, and inspire them for war.

As he rode to the front to give it, the hostile thoughts of the Didymosian army assailed him like rapid-fire arrows.

We have to follow that worthless quim into battle? Seriously?

The king insults us to send a boy in when we need a man at our helm.

When did Didymos become such a joke? The other Greeks mock us, and why shouldn't they? We're led by a beardless child who should still be suckling at his mother's tit.

But what truly hurt was that their thoughts mirrored his own. At least the ones that weren't sexual in nature.

Damn, Estes could have made a fortune here selling him to all the soldiers who wanted to grudge-fuck him. It was extremely disconcerting to know they'd be at his back tomorrow....

Heavily armed.

Styxx reined Troian in so that he could address them with Galen on a horse by his side. His stomach shrank as he faced their outright and obvious contempt and disdain. Though he was used to it, for some reason it stung more today.

Because you're about to ask them to die for you and they hate you for it.

He looked down at the scroll in his shaking hands and the words they'd so carefully penned. I can't read this. To them, it would sound disingenuous. They were pissed enough. His luck, they'd think he was mocking them and attack.

Better to address their real concerns.

Look at the royal quim. He's too scared to speak. How's that frightened little girl supposed to lead us into battle?

That's to be our future king? Gods help us.

Is it too late to defect to the Thracian army?

Lifting his chin, Styxx forced himself to face them. He cleared his throat then wadded up the parchment in his hand. Please don't let my voice tremble.

"I know what all of you are thinking...."

What a pathetic quim leads us?

Those were bad, but Styxx ground his teeth at the one thought that rang in his head louder than the others-We come to fight for a king who sends his worthless child to hang back and watch us die.... Least you could do is share that sweet little ass of yours with us before you ask us to die for it.

The animosity and criticisms mounted until Styxx couldn't speak. They were right. He had no business being here. Maybe that was his father's plan. To have him killed by his own people.

"Enough!" Galen roared.

It was only then Styxx realized they'd not only been thinking their hostilities, many had been shouting them, too.

The old veteran they did respect glared at them. "All of you should be ashamed of yourselves. The prince, himself, came here to personally thank you for your service, even while the lot of you sneered and jeered at him. You humiliate a warrior who has more courage than the entire Greek cavalry. Any other strategos would have you beaten for this impudence. And I will not see him so debased and insulted when you know nothing of his fierce skills or true noble character. I swore after our war with Phthia that I would never again bleed in battle for any king or cause. Nor would I fight for any banner. Yet here I am this day. Why?"

Galen placed his hand on Styxx's shoulder. "Because I have seen, in spite of his young age, the wisdom and courage of our strategos. And it is an honor for me to fight under his banner. How many men who are the age of our prince would come to battle with his army without a single word of protest? Prince Styxx could be at home, right now, with a wench in his lap and wine in his hand. Instead, he has laid aside his own comforts and safety to be with all of you as you fight for his father. He does not deserve your scorn, but rather your respect."

"Doesn't matter. He'll be dead in battle tomorrow anyway."

"Or fucked in the ass by an Atlantean hero while he chokes on the testicles of another."

Their army burst into laughter as they started taking wagers on who'd be the first to screw their prince.

Galen started for the soldiers.

Styxx held him by his side. "We don't need to fight each other while we have enemies on our shores."

With a tic thumping furiously in his jaw, Galen saluted him and kneed his horse back.

Styxx looked at his men and started to speak then realized there was nothing he could say that they wouldn't twist into an insult or take offense to. They had set their minds to hating him, and as with his mother and sister, there was no way to win them over. The one thing he'd learned from his blessed family was when to let it go and not try for a lost cause.

Sighing, he clapped Galen on the shoulder then reined his horse about so that he could return to his tent.

"That's right ... go back to your cradle, boy, and let the men do their jobs!"

Holding his head high, Styxx ignored their laughter. At least it's not as bad as the strategi meeting.

While his soldiers were harsh, the noble-born commanders, who had been insulted by his mere presence and who had dared him to speak a single word, had flogged him harder with their tongues than all the scolds in his father's service. His hide was still raw and bleeding from their vicious insults yesterday. They'd all but run him out of the meeting on a rail.

So be it.

If he was lucky, they'd all be right and someone would cut his head off in battle tomorrow.

October 26, 9532 BC

"Look at the pathetic bastards," Misos, the Atlantean god of war, sneered to Bethany as they joined the Atlantean army that was preparing to attack the Greek colony of Halicarnassus, one of the richest Greek cities. The Atlanteans wanted to make a point and show their lesser human brethren why they needed to leave off Atlantean shores.

But more than that, they were here to slaughter every Greek prince dumb enough to fight.

Bethany reined her white winged horse beside her great-grandfather. Her mother, Symfora, the goddess of sorrow, was already walking the battlefield in expectation of the men who would die here today. "Have you chosen your champion, Tattas?" she asked Misos.

The god of war smiled down at her. "Zerilus." The leader of the Atlantean army. Almost eight feet tall, he was so massive that it was said one swing of his mighty axe could fell a stout tree. "What of you, precious? Who is your chosen?"

Hector. But she could never allow her family to know that her heart lay among the enemy camp and with a lowly foot soldier.

So she picked the Atlantean least likely to cause harm to him. "Xan."

"The Atlantean prince ... a fine choice, indeed."

"Now, if you'll excuse me, Tattas, I shall go through the Greek ranks and do my job."

He laughed. "Make sure you call out to us should one of the Greek gods see you. The sooner we start this fight, the better."

Saluting him with her sword, Bethany swung her winged horse, Herita, away from them and flew into the Greek camp. Not really to stir up her usual misery and discontent in their hearts, but rather to find a merchant's son who bore her medallion around his wrist.

Where are you, Hector?

Honestly, she was impressed by their numbers. The Greeks had amassed a large army in a very short amount of time. She pulled her gold helm off so that she could better see the faces of the men who were preparing for the coming fight.

To her right was the Didymos banner. She headed straight for their encampment. As she started to the back of it to look through their foot soldiers, a flash of bright red distracted her.

Athena ...

She could feel that bitch's presence here. Theirs was a grudge match that was legendary throughout the Mediterranean. One that had started centuries ago when Bethany had speared Athena's chosen through the heart, during battle.

So who is your favorite I will kill today?

Bethany set her horse on the ground then slid from the saddle. She touched random Greek soldiers as she passed them, making them immediately clench with painful fear and mental anguish. They were not her Hector. They weren't tall enough. So she didn't care if they fell or not.

She came around a tent and froze as she caught sight of the infamous Didymosian prince, Styxx. While she'd heard his name countless times, she'd never seen him before.

Arrogant snot. That was her first thought as she saw him swathed in his expensive black armor with a bright red chlamys, and rigidly perched on the back of an exceptional black stallion. His regal pride bled from every pore of his body. Still, he cut a gorgeous picture as the light breeze ruffled his unruly blond curls that gave him an unorthodox, boyish appearance. Dark brown brows slashed above intelligent eyes so blue they matched the Aegean Sea for clarity and vibrance.

His stern expression made his cheekbones sharp and well sculpted. Too young for a full beard, he held the lightest bit of dark brown dusting around his chin and upper lip.

He was truly a thing of great beauty.

"Your aspis, young prince."

Bethany's gaze narrowed as she saw Athena, in the guise of a foot soldier, holding the red shield up to her champion who had no idea the Greek goddess intended to ride with him into battle.

So this is your choice? Really? An arrogant prince with no battle experience?

She'd laugh if it weren't so pathetic.

The prince inclined his head to Athena and took the shield that held a black phoenix topped by a Greek crown of laurels and the words "I defend." The weight of the hoplon caused the muscles in his arm to protrude and define themselves even more. He said something to the goddess that made her smile.

Athena handed him his black helm.

With one hand, the prince slid it down over his head then reached for his xiphos. What a pity she'd have to kill him. Beauty such as his was all too rare in the human world.

If only Athena had chosen another to favor ...

Sighing at the waste, Bethany manifested her bow and nocked an arrow. She took aim for the prince's heart.

Just as she released her arrow, he kicked his horse forward.

Damn it! The arrow flew past the stallion's flanks and hit a tent post.

The moment it did, Athena turned to glare at her.

Bethany made a rude gesture at the Greek goddess. Summoning her horse, she flipped onto Herita's back and flew away before the Greek goddess could return her fire.

The battle was starting.

Her heart heavy, Bethany glanced over the Greeks, hoping her Hector was safe.

"Well?" Diafonia asked as Bethany returned to their side of the field. "Did you stir them up?"

"Not as much as normal. I caught Athena's champion and almost had him. But the bitch saw me."

The goddess of discord patted her on the shoulder. "Have no fear, sweet cousin. The day is young. We will drink well on the blood of the fallen Greeks tonight." Diafonia spread her wings and dove for the soldiers with her brother Pali at her side. She and her brother Strife always ran among their enemies to incite their wrath and create confusion.

Times like this, Bethany truly missed Apollymi. The goddess of destruction had always been her best ally in battle.

Oh well. They had a war to fight and she had a Didymosian prince to slay. "Get ready, Hades. I'm about to send Athena's newest pet knocking on your door."

She flew to Xan's side and kept his arm strong throughout the day as he slaughtered Greek after Greek.

Until she finally sighted the young prince of Didymos again.

He'd dismounted at some point during battle, and was fighting on foot beside his men, with Athena nowhere to be found.

Bethany paused as she watched the grace and beauty of his brutal art. Someone had trained the prince well. Even at his young age, he fought like a seasoned veteran. Fearless. There was no hesitation in his attacks or blocks. He met every enemy without flinching or tiring. Indeed, he looked to be gaining strength with each opponent.

Incredible. Blood soaked him, dripping from his armor and skin, and still he fought on in a graceful dance of the absolute macabre.

"Styxx!" Xan's unexpected bellow startled her. She'd had no idea that her prince knew Athena's champion. And judging by the rage of that tone, they were not friendly.

Xan ran at the prince, slashing his way through the men who came between them.

With the sound of screams, cries and clashing metal echoing in his ears, Styxx drove his sword into the middle of the man he was fighting and had barely recovered when a mighty shadow fell across his line of vision. He looked up just as an axe was coming for his head. Lifting his bowl-shaped shield, he gasped at the ferocious blow that numbed his entire arm and forced him to his knees. It sent a piece of the wood flying out of his aspis to the ground.

After yanking the axe back for another strike, his newest attacker shrieked in frustration. The giant jerked Styxx's shield, throwing him sideways. Somehow, Styxx managed to keep his grip on the hoplon, but the action felt like it'd torn his arm out of his shoulder.

Styxx rolled with attack, and landed on his feet to face Xan. For a moment, he couldn't breathe as he felt the memory of the bastard's hands on his body while he laughed in Styxx's ear and taunted him.

Xan narrowed his eyes. "I owe you a debt, little quim. Your life for Estes's."

As Galen had taught him, Styxx clenched his jaw shut to keep from responding to the insult. "Never let the enemy in your head, boy. Your emotions will get you killed."

This was not about rage, ego, or fear. It was war. Cold. Brutal.

Final.

One mistake and he could lose a limb.

Or his head.

Focus and skill were the only things that would keep him alive and in one piece. And while he knew he couldn't die, he didn't want to live with severed body parts.

Xan swung his axe down again. Knowing the power of those blows and the fact that he couldn't stand long against them, Styxx dropped his hoplon and launched himself at the much larger man, driving his shoulder into Xan's stomach and forcing the giant to stumble back as the axe slipped from his hands and landed harmlessly on the ground behind Styxx.

The Atlantean prince grabbed him as Xan fell, pulling Styxx down on top of him. "If you wanted to suck my cock, boy, all you had to do was ask."

Styxx scrambled to get off him, but Xan wrapped his massive limbs around his body and held him tight. Panicked memories assailed him as he struggled not to scream out.

"I think I shall capture you instead of killing you, little prince, and then you can be my personal tsoulus until I wear your tight ass out and sell you to a dung dealer for his amusement."

To Styxx's horror, Xan slid his hand down to cup and grope him through his armor.

"Leave it to the flaccid Greeks to send their pretty little whores into battle."

Rage clouded Styxx's sight. Something deep inside him shattered and released. With a battle cry born of a lifetime of shame, Styxx twisted in Xan's arms and drove his kopis into the giant's side.

Releasing him, Xan cried out.

But Styxx gave him no reprieve as he stabbed him again and again, until he was no longer moving. His heart pounding and limbs shaking, he climbed off the bastard and saw Xan's pale skin and glazed eyes.

"For Acheron," he breathed.

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