Their laughter while they swapped turns with him echoed in his ears. Tears gathered in his eyes as shame filled every inch of his bloodied heart. How could the uncle he'd loved so much have done this to him?

Gods, his father trusted this man. He'd brought him into their home....

Estes tightened his hold on him. "You wanted to be a man, like Acheron. Now you are."

No, his uncle had used him like he was a chamber pot set there to service his needs, with no regards to his feelings or humanity. Worse than that, the bastard had whored him for his friends.

Styxx's legs buckled as he remembered Estes laughing after he'd finished with him the first time. I've cracked his tight little ass for you. Now who wants to break it in good?

Oh gods ... Now he understood some of the phantom pains he'd felt on the most private places of his body. And he knew exactly what Estes had done with his brother.

"Acheron's your whore."

Estes smiled proudly. "You're not as well trained as he is yet, but one day you'll be as good a fuck, I promise."

Styxx shoved at him and tried to run, but he slipped on the rocks and fell into the water.

Estes grabbed him again. "Don't be like that, little stallion. Acheron enjoys it. He even begs for my cock. As his twin, you will, too."

Shame, horror, and agony shredded his soul. "You're disgusting! Pervert! I'm going to tell my father what you've done!"

The humor fled his uncle's face at that threat. Seizing Styxx's arms in a brutal grip, he glared at him with fury. "And who do you think Xerxes will believe? His beloved younger brother who has stood at his back and protected his secrets, or the son of a drunken, demented whore who's already been treated for mental instability? You breathe one word of this to him and I'll not only ensure you never inherit the throne, I'll make you a permanent Dionysion resident. And once your father abandons you there, I'll bribe the priests and take you to Atlantis where you can join your brother as a high-priced piece of ass I rent out to anyone with enough coin."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Try me." Estes ran his tongue down Styxx's throat then laughed. "Fucking you, little squirrel, almost makes being away from Acheron tolerable. Now be a good boy and wash yourself or I shall do it for you." He dropped his hand to illustrate his offer.

Styxx vomited again.

Estes shoved him away. "Clean yourself and be quick about it or I'll give Nestor his additional day with you."

Abashed and shaken, Styxx sank down in the water, wishing himself dead. He felt so unclean. So filthy and fouled. And as he washed himself, he remembered their hands on him as they violated every part of his body.

In that moment a deep-seated rage seized him and he wanted to lash out and kill them all. Why had his powers failed to warn him when he needed them most? Why?

Because there had been too many of them with Estes. Their thoughts had trampled over each other's and the gods' and his own to the point he hadn't been able to discern any of them singularly. It was part of what gave him such bad headaches.

"Damn you!" he screamed. But the words were directed more at himself than anyone else.

Why did I ever trust Estes?

He knew better. No one could ever be trusted. How could he have forgotten that one vital lesson?

Because Estes had shown him kindness when no one else had. He was family and family wasn't supposed to be like this. They were supposed to love each other. Protect each other.

Says who?

Styxx laughed bitterly at his thought. That was the truth. Ryssa would be thrilled beyond measure to see him used like this and reduced to the level of a common whore.

I hope you get what you deserve. How many times had she said that to him? Someone needs to take you down a notch.

Estes had taken him down a lot more than that.

Tears filled his eyes and spilled over his cheeks. He didn't feel like this was his just deserts, but maybe it was. He'd ruined his mother. And if he was the real godspawn and Acheron wasn't, he'd ruined his innocent brother, too.

Out of everything Styxx had screwed up in his life, that was the one real regret he had. He should have spoken up and told his father the truth. That he had the god powers while Acheron only had divine eyes. Then they would have been hated equally.

Together.

What do I do now?

I just want to go home.

It was wretched there, but it was the only place he had. You should run away and leave it all behind.

And do what? He had no practical skills. He was a prince who knew diplomacy and languages. Useless in the real world. Besides, if this was how his family treated him, how much worse would strangers be?

"Wherever you are, Acheron ... I hope you don't feel the way I do right now."

But he knew better. There was no way Acheron could be used like this and not feel the same.

Worthless. Powerless. Despised.

Yet the worst was the self-hatred.

You are a prince! his mind shouted at him. Heir to the Didymos throne. Get your ass up! Now! Who are you to complain about your fate?

"I'm a used whore," he breathed as pain racked him again. How could he ever hold his head up after this, knowing what they'd done to him for a solid week? It'd been bad enough when the priests had held him down and tortured him as they tried to drive out the demons that didn't exist. And the unknown Olympian had made lecherous offers he'd baited with the promise of freedom.

This was so much worse.

I should have let the god have me. At least that would have seen him released from the Dionysion faster. Had he only known then what his fate was, he'd have embraced it. Then the god would have protected him from them ...

Maybe.

Sick to his soul, Styxx left the water and dressed so that he could put this behind him as quickly as possible.

If he could just get home, Estes and the others would leave. No one would ever know what had happened to him here. He could keep the secret. He was good at that.

I just have to get home.

Styxx didn't speak a single word the whole way back. While they rode, his gaze kept going to the guards who had been sent along to protect him. Guards his uncle had bribed ...

Not with coin, but with Styxx.

Even now, he could hear their mocking laughter. They thought what had been done to him was funny, and they had watched and participated with a glee that was nauseating.

Spoiled son of a king ... Here's for all the times I've had to lower my eyes to you and your father. Let the royal prick take a prick in the ass for all the pains I've had to suffer....

Next time I avert my gaze from you, Highness, know that it's banging your sweet ass I'll be thinking of.

Styxx didn't know if he'd ever be able to leave his room again, knowing they were in his father's service. How could he face anyone ever again?

And when his father met them at the palace steps with a wide smile, shame and humiliation slapped him even harder. How would his father look at him if he knew how he'd been used?

Styxx's gaze fell to the scar on his arm that his father had given him. And he knew the truth.

His father would hate and blame him for it.

"How did it go?" his father asked with a delight that sickened Styxx even more.

Estes laughed. "We rode mostly. I tell you, brother, there's nothing better than feeling your favorite royal stallion under you."

Bile rose in Styxx's throat.

"Styxx took his first buck and we made a man of him. It's been a great week, brother. One we'll all remember for the rest of our lives, is that not right, Styxx?"

Styxx cringed at the double entendres he now fully understood.

His father frowned at him. "Are you all right, boy?"

He wanted to tell him the truth, but one glance at Estes and he knew his uncle was right. His father thought the world of his brother and was suspicious of a son he wasn't really sure belonged to him. It was why he favored Ryssa so. With her birth, there was no doubt.

Styxx would never hold his father's full confidence or love.

"Prince Styxx was stuffed with too many rich figs this past week for his taste, I'm afraid."

Styxx winced at Nestor's bold reference to their rape that went right over his father's head. It was meant to shame him, and that arrow hit its target dead on.

Estes ruffled Styxx's hair. "Nestor's right. He partook too much of our potent nectar, brother, and is still sick from it. Forgive me for corrupting your heir and opening him to more manly activities than he was ready for. Still, the event has stretched him quite a bit and taught him things he won't soon forget."

Every single word cut him like jagged glass across his heart. All of them openly mocked his pain and degradation at their hands. Worse, they reveled in it.

Styxx ground his teeth to keep from showing any emotion whatsoever. Estes was testing him and he knew it. Throwing what they'd done in his face to see if he'd break and betray them while Estes was here with his friends to lie against Styxx should he say one single word about what they'd done.

That was why Estes had brought them along. Who would ever believe one mad boy against two princes, one of whom was a decorated war hero, and four noblemen? They would stand united to call him a liar so that Estes could have him returned to the temple. And from there ...

He felt his stomach cramp with utter misery.

His father pulled him into his arms and clapped him on the back. "My poor Styxx. The first hangover is the worst of all. But you have to learn to work past it. Or never get another." Kissing his forehead, he released him and went to greet his brother.

Styxx glared at his uncle as his father embraced Estes, resenting the affection his father had for him. Over his father's shoulder, Estes raked him from head to toe with a lecherous, taunting grin. Averting his gaze, Styxx caught the smug smiles of his uncle's friends. And when Nestor winked at him and dropped his gaze to Styxx's groin as he licked his lips, he all but ran up the stairs and into the palace.

Ryssa met him just inside the door and swept his body with a sneer of her own. "You must think you're something truly special now. Having gone off with Uncle and his friends like you're their noble equal. But you're not a man, Styxx. You're still a pathetic, spoiled child."

He'd never wanted to punch her more than he did right then. How could she look into his eyes and not see the horror inside his heart? Not see how shaken and upset he was? It took everything he had not to put her through the wall behind her. "And you're a stupid bitch."

She gasped as he stormed past her. Shrieking, she ran to tell on him.

Honestly, he didn't care. There was nothing worse his father could do to him now. No beating that could possibly hurt more than this did.

He started past the upstairs larder then paused and opened it to grab two jugs of wine. With them in hand, he retreated to his room and bolted himself in. He had no intention of leaving the safety of these four walls until long after Estes and the others were gone.

Pulling the pillow from his bed, he placed it on the floor to cushion his sore body and guzzled down the undiluted wine, wanting it to take away his shame. But all it could do was create a very temporary shelter and he knew it.

Over and over, against his will, his mind kept replaying the utter misery he'd just survived. No matter what he did, he heard their voices and felt their hands on his flesh.

Please, gods, talk to me and drown it out.

But all he heard was Estes and the others laughing and mocking him. How ironic that the only thing he'd found to fully silence the sounds in his head were memories he'd sell his soul to banish....

August 30, 9533 BC

For two full days, Styxx stayed barricaded in his room until he heard the horses gathered in the drive for his uncle's departure. Making sure to stay out of sight, he opened his window only enough to look down and verify the sounds.

Thank you, gods, they're leaving....

"Where's the prince?" his father demanded on the steps below.

Ryssa made a derisive face. "No one's seen him, Father. Most likely he's off impregnating a servant. After all, he went a whole week without one. Gods forbid."

Styxx despised her for that.

Estes shrugged Styxx's "rudeness" off. "Don't worry about it, Xerxes. I'm not offended. I'm sure he feels like he's had enough of me this past week. Give him my regards when you see him and tell him that I can't wait until my next visit. I look forward to being his riding partner in the future."

Styxx's stomach shrank at those hated words and the veiled threat beneath them.

"You are far too kind, Uncle." Ryssa kissed him lightly on the cheek. "May the gods speed you home."

"May the gods overturn your chariot and spill your guts, far and wide," Styxx snarled. "Or better yet, send your boat to the bottom of the sea."

"Gods speed you, brother."

Styxx didn't feel like he could breathe again until he saw his uncle and his entourage ride out the gates. Only then did he lean back and relax. He expelled a long breath.

His nightmare was finally over. The bastard was gone and couldn't touch him anymore.

He was safe again....

But his relief was short-lived as guards pounded on his door. At first he wasn't going to answer it at all, but when he heard them calling for a battering ram, he knew if he didn't come out, his father would never be placated with a simple apology.

Forcing himself to stand strong, he opened the door to find four burly guards waiting to escort him down to his father's study.

Styxx braced himself for his father's fury and lecture.

They marched with him all the way inside his father's study and didn't pull back until he neared his father's desk where the king sat with Ryssa standing behind him. His father glared at him with a venom Styxx wished was lethal.

"What have you to say for yourself, boy?"

"I don't feel well, Father. Please forgive me. I think I caught something." And hopefully it wouldn't be some venereal disease.

"Do you think I care how badly you feel?"

No. Of course he didn't. He never cared when Styxx was ill.

"Is this to be your answer when you're king? To crawl into your bed anytime you don't feel well and let the kingdom rot while you rest?"

It was all Styxx could do not to mock those words in time with his father's recitation of a lecture perpetually branded in his mind.

His father rose to his feet and stormed his way to stand before Styxx. "And what is this I hear about your calling your sister a bitch?"

He cut a murderous glare to Ryssa who smirked at him. "She misunderstood me."

His father backhanded him. "Don't you lie to me! And is that alcohol I smell on you? Is it?"

No, the alcohol wasn't the pungent smell. Rather it was the aphrodisiac Estes had forced down his throat for nine days straight then forced him to vomit up. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get rid of the rancid odor. "It's some medicine Estes gave me."

His father shook his head. "You disgrace the name of Didymos and our noble Ariclean ancestors. I give you every luxury and consideration a man can give his son, and how do you repay me? You lie in bed like some wastrel. I won't have it, Styxx. I won't!" He shoved him back into the arms of the largest guard. "Take him to the scold and see that he's given fifty strikes. More if he cries."

Styxx winced at the severity of his punishment.

"How many more, Majesty?"

"As many as it takes to make him stop."

Styxx met the smug expression on Ryssa's face.

"I think he should have more, Father, for what he said to me. It was completely uncalled for."

"Fifty is sufficient, kitten. Besides, he always cries like a woman." He sneered at Styxx. "I should put a dress on you."

Why not? It was the only degradation Estes had spared him.

"Get him out of my sight."

Styxx didn't bother following the guards. He led the way. After all, he was intimately acquainted with the path to the scold.

The instant he entered the guard's room, the scold looked up with an arched brow at his sudden appearance.

"Fifty," Styxx growled. "More should I weep."

He scowled. "How many more?"

"Until I stop, and yes, you're pardoned. Now just get it over with." Styxx went into the room and tried to blot out the guards' voices in his head as they waited outside for the scold to beat him. They were relishing his punishment even more than his sister did.

He took the leather piece from the scold and placed it in his mouth then assumed the position he knew so well. A slow smile curled the scold's lips as he secured Styxx's hands to the post.

Don't worry, I'm not going to wet myself. He'd long passed that point.

Brushing Styxx's hair back from his eyes, the scold lowered his face until their gazes met. "I am fully pardoned, Highness, for my actions against you?"

Styxx frowned. "Yes," he said around the leather. Was the man daft? Why did he need him to repeat it?

The scold picked the largest cane then moved around so that he could expose Styxx's scarred and sore buttocks.

Placing his cheek against the cold stone, Styxx held his breath and waited for the cane to be rubbed against his skin as a signal that the whipping would begin. Instead, he felt the scold's calloused hands pushing his legs apart so that he could run his hand down Styxx's inner thigh over the scars the priests had given him.

"My brother said you had the sweetest little ass he'd ever ridden. I've never had a nobleman's ass before, never mind such a pretty royal one. But I have to say that I have dreamed of doing this to you for years."

Screaming in terror, Styxx tried to break free, but the ropes were knotted too well.

"Shh, Highness. You cooperate and I'm sure we can come to a sweet compromise regarding your punishments from now on."

* * *

An hour later, Styxx stood in the corner of his punishment room, trying to find even a tiny shred of dignity. But he had none left. Worse, he couldn't stop his tears no matter how hard he tried.

I am a woman.

He'd been used like one.

The door opened behind him. His stomach shrank as he feared the scold returning for more. Surely to the gods, the bastard was well sated by now....

"Why are you still here?"

Great. It was his adoring father. Just what he needed.

"Answer me, boy."

"I don't feel well."

His father curled his lip in disgust. "I am so sick of that excuse. Can you not think up a better lie? And those tears ... you're weak and pathetic!" The king slammed his hand down on the table where the scold had ...

Styxx vomited at the memory.

Jumping back, his father screwed his face up. "I guess you are ill."

His breathing ragged, Styxx wiped a trembling hand over his mouth and did his best to control his raging and raw emotions.

For the first time, his father's features softened as if the bastard finally had some tender feeling for him. He pulled him into his arms. Styxx had to force himself not to recoil.

Or cry harder.

"Come, child. Let me help you to your bed and have a bath prepared. Do you wish to have a maid help bathe you?"

"No." The last thing he wanted was another pair of hands on his body, especially since he could still feel the evidence of the guard's intrusion sliding out of him. If anyone else bathed him, they'd know what had happened.

"All right. I shouldn't have been so harsh to you. Had I known you were really ill, I wouldn't have been."

Maybe you should listen when I try to tell you something, old man.

But he never did.

"Father!" Ryssa snapped as she saw them on the stairs. "How is he to learn any lesson while you coddle him so?"

"Enough, kitten. Your brother is severely ill. I can feel his fever radiating through his clothes and mine. You should have pity for him."

"What I pity is this empire when he sits on your throne."

Styxx glared at her.

"Father, he's threatening me again."

His father paused beside her. "How so?"

"The way he looked at me just now. Like he could go through me."

"You would do well to remember that one day, he will be your king, kitten. And he conducted himself with honor today. He walked to the scold without aid and gave no complaint." Looking down, he tightened his arms around him. "I'm proud of you, Styxx."

Great. After all I've done to please you, it's my rape that makes you proud.

Bloody figures.

Styxx couldn't meet his father's gaze. Not when he could still feel the scold's groping hands. He tried to pull away, but his father tightened his grip. It took every ounce of will not to break at the memories that stirred.

"Please, Father, I need to lie down for a while." He choked on another spasm.

His father finally quickened the pace and got him to his room just in time for him to reach the chamber pot.

"Should I send for a physician?"

"No ... I'll be fine. I just need to be alone." Styxx started to sit then thought better of it. Between the beating and other matters, he wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to sit again.

"Let me know if you need anything." Finally his father retreated.

Styxx crawled onto his bed and slowly lowered himself down. Closing his eyes, he tried to imagine another life. One where he was welcomed with a loving hand that never turned violent on him. One where no one hated him without cause ...

In his mind, he saw the image of a woman. She would be as sweet as the morning sun, with the voice of a songbird. And she would smile whenever he approached her. A real smile that said she enjoyed his company ...

Not his title.

But he knew that dream would never come to him. Commoners married for love. Princes married for alliances. His marriage would be negotiated and he'd be lucky if she tolerated him long enough to conceive his heir. The only real friend he'd ever known in his entire life was locked away in Atlantis, suffering endless days like this one.

How do I get us out of this?

There was only one answer. If he could heal enough to ride by the morning, he would be able to get to Atlantis before Estes did. Hopefully his uncle and his friends would take their time returning home.

He could free Acheron and then they'd ... do something. It didn't matter what. The goal was to get them both out of this torment and find a place where the world would just leave them in peace.

But even as he had the thought, he couldn't help wondering if such a place existed.

September 8, 9533 BC

Damn it, Estes, how many rooms are in your home?

The number seemed to be infinite. His uncle's villa was even larger than their primary palace in Didymos. Worse, Estes had a full staff of servants and guards Styxx had to avoid. Since it was well after midnight, no one should be awake. Yet there were a number of maids and men walking about.

But what sickened him was the reason for all the rooms. The majority of the ones he'd searched had been set up as sex playrooms with different themes and props. And every time he opened one, his heart broke more at what had been done to Acheron.

I hate you, Father.

No human being should be reduced to this. Especially not his brother.

Styxx snuck to another door and pressed his ear against it to listen. He didn't hear anyone inside it, either. Looking right and left, he slowly, carefully pushed it open. When he didn't see anyone, he slid inside to double-check. Like the others, it was set up with sexual holding racks and a large bed near an oversized fireplace.

He approached the bed then froze. There in the center of it lay Acheron, peacefully sleeping on his stomach. That sight slammed him back to their childhood when he'd sneak into Acheron's room at night to talk, play, or sleep. Whenever he was alone in his bed, Acheron slept in that position. But he'd never slept like that when they were together.

An overwhelming urge to curl up at his brother's back and press his feet to Acheron's went through him. And in its wake was a brutal pain for what they'd both lost these past years.

Innocent brotherly love.

Friendship.

Two things he didn't know if they'd still have or not. But the one thing he couldn't deny was how much his brother meant to him. How much he loved Acheron.

Forever and always.

Yet the man on that bed right now was a complete stranger to him. The changes in Acheron's body slapped him with a harsh dose of cold, disturbing reality. Funny how, even though he was well aware of the changes in his own body over the years, he'd come here expecting to see the same young brother who'd been taken.

But that wasn't what he found.

They were both grown men now and neither bore much resemblance to the twins who'd been separated. Just like him, Acheron was taller than most Greek men, with lean, well-defined muscles that were still in the process of filling out. Acheron's skin was slightly paler than Styxx's, yet both possessed the same exact wavy blond hair. Styxx kept his cut to just past his ears while Acheron's fell to his shoulders.

His brother was completely naked except for gold bands on his ankles, wrists, biceps, and neck. A thin gold chain linked his wristband to the one on his biceps. Styxx winced at them and what they signified. Those tsoulus chains were put on young men and women who were essentially kept as pets for the sexual perversions of the ruling class. While his father had never owned one, Styxx knew plenty of noblemen, princes, and kings who were not so kind. Men who bragged about their property and how they loved to debase their slaves who had no choice except to take it.

But what made him angriest of all were the small loops on the wrist and ankle bands. Those were to tie his brother into different positions so that his owner would have full access to his body to do anything he wanted while Acheron would be powerless to stop it. The fact that they were cast in gold and left on Acheron's limbs even while he slept said it all.

His uncle used his brother well and often.

Styxx wanted to kill Estes for what he'd done. You worthless bastard ...

Moving closer, he dropped his gaze to Acheron's open hand where Estes had burned a slave's mark into his palm. That sight repulsed him even more as he realized that had been the pain he'd felt on the day he'd come home from the Dionysion.

Though his uncle had told him what he'd been doing with Acheron, he'd held out hope that Estes was lying or exaggerating the abuse.

But there was no denying this.

His brother really was a well-used whore.

Yet what screwed with his head most was the fact that while he knew it was Acheron on that bed, he saw himself there. They were identical in every way, except for their eyes and physical scars. But for one small birth defect that could have been his as easily as it was Acheron's, he would be the one being bought and sold every day of his life.

He ground his teeth at the injustice of fickle random luck. It was so unfair.

This stops now!

No matter what it took, he was getting Acheron out of this nightmare. Styxx knelt on the floor and reached to touch his brother. The pungent smell of fruit hit him hard. It was the same scent of that damned aphrodisiac his uncle had forced him to take. Please be more coherent than I was.

"Acheron?" he whispered, shaking his brother's shoulder.

Moaning low, Acheron turned his face into Styxx's hand and licked his palm.

Styxx jerked his hand back, stunned and disturbed by Acheron's actions. "Brother?" he tried again.

Acheron moved closer to him. "Idikos," he breathed.

The Atlantean word hit him like a fist to his groin. It was one a slave used for his master.

"Acheron!" he said more sharply, shaking him. "Wake up!"

His brother pushed himself up by his arms immediately, but was so groggy that he couldn't focus. Of course, he was drugged. How else would Estes be able to keep him here?

"What would you have of me, Idikos?" Acheron asked in Atlantean. He was so out of it that he had no idea to whom he was speaking. Even his thoughts were incoherent jumbled words that were a mixture of Greek and Atlantean. Worse, he kept his gaze on the ground as all slaves were forced to do.

Styxx cupped Acheron's face in his hands and tilted his chin until Acheron met his gaze. "Look at me, brother. Do you remember me?"

Styxx? The hopeless agony of Acheron's thought wrenched his stomach hard.

"Yes, adelphos. I've come to take you from here."

That succeeded in breaking through Acheron's drugged stupor. His swirling silver eyes flared wide as terror consumed him. He tore himself from Styxx's hands and scooted back on the bed to cower in a corner.

Styxx shot across the bed after him. "We have to hurry. Where are your clothes?"

"I can't leave," Acheron said in a low, vicious whisper.

"Yes, you can."

Acheron met his gaze and shook his head hard. A tic worked in his jaw. "I cannot leave."

"Are you insane that you would stay here?" Styxx glanced around at all the sex toys and the tag on Acheron's collar that marked him as property and not a human. All slaves were viewed as nothing more than tools with feet. "I will protect you."

"You can't."

Gods, what had they done to him that he'd be so frightened he shivered at the mere thought of having freedom?

Styxx tried to make sense of Acheron's rushing thoughts, but he wasn't thinking in a single language. Rather in about nine of them, only four of which Styxx was truly fluent with. He also used words Styxx wasn't sure about, but he had an inkling they had to do with sex.

"Listen to me!" he said, cupping Acheron's face again. His brother refused to look at him. "Estes isn't here. I've ridden day and night, only stopping to change out horses, to make sure I'd beat him back so that I could help you. I didn't know what he was doing to you, little brother. But now that I do, I swear to you that I will keep you safe."

"You can't."

"Why won't you believe me?"

This time Acheron did meet his gaze, and the abject shame, misery, and pain in his brother's eyes stole his breath. "Because you are me and I couldn't stop them."

"You were a baby."

Acheron shook his head. "You don't know ... you don't know."

"Know what?"

A moment later, Styxx sucked his breath in sharply as Acheron's thoughts spun even faster and with so much emotion they pierced his skull with pain. What in the name of Hades? "Acheron, calm yourself. Where are your clothes?"

"I have none."

Of course he didn't. Why would he? A tsoulus wouldn't need any for his duties.

Styxx removed his cloak and wrapped it around Acheron. Once they were away, he'd buy something for Acheron to wear. The important thing right now was to get him out of here before a guard or servant heard them.

He pulled his brother from the bed, but it was hard to get him across the floor. Acheron fought him every step of the way to the point Styxx was ready to hit him for it.

He's afraid.

And I'm not?

If they were caught ... he didn't want to think about the consequences. Frustrated and angry, Styxx slammed his brother against the wall. "Damn it all, Acheron. Stop this! I'm taking you from here. Stop fighting me."

Acheron glared at him with so much hatred it cut through him. "You think you can control things because you're a prince. But you don't control shit!"

"What I think is I'm putting my ass on the line for you, brother, and you're being stupid. I'm well aware of what's at stake ... for both of us. But we can't live like this. Not me and definitely not you."

"Acheron!"

Both of them froze at Estes's loud bellow.

Crap! How had the bastard returned so fast?

Because it'd taken two days for Styxx to recover enough to ride. He should have factored that in. More than that, his uncle must have rushed to get back to Acheron.

His brother started to go to Estes.

Styxx grabbed his shoulders and stopped him. "We have to leave. Now! Is there another way out of here?" It was only then that he realized there were no windows for this room.

Before Styxx could move, Acheron shouted. "In here, Idikos!"

"Why would you do that to your own brother?"

Acheron gave him a cold, hard stare. "I have no brother. My brother sold me to this."

I protect myself....