Stygian

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Stygian Page 10

by Sherrilyn Kenyon


  He sat up on her spine. “What? You disagree about love?” Of all creatures, he would have assumed she’d be with him on this topic.

  Aye. I know the love of which they speak.

  “Then you’re lucky.”

  Xyn fell silent as she thought about it and realized that Urian was wrong. She wasn’t lucky to love him. Not as long as he felt the way that he did about the subject.

  Not as long as he thought of her as his pet and had no idea how very human she was beneath her scales.

  To love someone born of another species, who didn’t believe in it, was without a doubt the cruelest fate ever devised by the gods who hated them all. And she wished she could tear out her heart and stop it from beating. Because as long as it beat, it would always beat for a man who would never return her love to her.

  October 17, 9512 BC

  Missing Xyn and wishing he were with her, Urian paused as he saw his sister on a stoop near one of the abandoned temples of the old gods who’d once called this realm home. Diafonia’s temple. The Atlantean goddess of discord. Born to the rulers of the underworld, Misos and Thnita, she and her sister Pali—goddess of strife—used to walk the human realm, where they would set humanity and the Atlanteans at each other’s throats. Just for fun. And usually for no other reason than they were bored.

  He’d never understand that kind of cruelty. Any more than he’d understand his grandfather for cursing them.

  It also baffled him why Apollymi would choose Pali and Diafonia as her favorites, given their cruelty. Yet even so, that hadn’t been enough to spare them from her wrath when she’d rained down her vengeance against her family.

  It was said those two goddesses had been among the first to fall.

  Which made Urian’s blood run cold. Treachery never knew any limits. It always came in the darkest of night and from where you least expected it.

  From the hand of the one you trusted most.

  No one could ever be trusted. Especially not with your life or well-being.

  Not wanting to think about that, Urian headed for Tannis, who appeared upset over some matter. She hadn’t looked this despondent since their father had forced her to change her name from Dyana to Tannis because he refused to have her go by a name that honored Apollo’s sister who’d abandoned them to die.

  As soon as his shadow fell over her, she looked up with a startled gasp, then settled down in relief.

  He scowled at the sight of her utter misery. “Are you all right?”

  She dabbed at her wet cheeks. “Fine.”

  He didn’t believe that lie for an instant. “Last time you said that to me, it preceded your hurling a shoe at my head. And the other at my groin.”

  The latter of which had landed true and caused him endless suffering that still made him flinch.

  His reminder almost succeeded in making her smile. Or perhaps that came from the urge to launch another shoe at him. “That’s because you were annoying me at the time.”

  “Am I annoying you now? I just need to know if I should be ready to duck and cup … or not.”

  She laughed, then choked on a sob.

  He instantly sobered. “All right, I know you’re not fine.” Worried, he knelt down at her side. “What’s wrong?”

  Her lips trembling, she reached out for his red chalmys and clutched it, then blew her nose into the thick wool.

  Okay, that was disgusting and under normal circumstances he’d take serious issue with her actions. Tonight, however, he forced himself to be patient with her and not cringe too much. “You’re really lucky you’re my sister and crying. Otherwise I’d kill you if you were one of my brothers. Or anyone else.”

  She looked up at him so that only her eyes were visible over the scarlet material. With one dainty sniff, she finished wiping her nose off on his cloak before she lowered it. “Sorry. Would it help if I said it’s one of the reasons you’re my favorite brother?”

  Scoffing, he glanced down at his soiled garment. “Not really. Mostly, because I know that for the lie it is. You much prefer Paris or Ophie.”

  “That’s not true.” She rubbed the wool together, trying to remove some of her damage.

  Urian unpinned it. “Here. You might as well take it now. I’ve no further use for your snot rag.” As he moved to fasten it around her shoulders, he paused at the sight of the bruising on her neck. Her throat had been brutally ravaged. “Who did this to you?”

  Panic flared in her eyes. “It’s nothing.”

  Anger rose up from deep inside and temporarily blinded him. “Erol?”

  When she didn’t answer, he knew the truth. Damn her husband. She’d only been married a week.

  A week!

  He felt the heat stinging his cheeks as he stood.

  “Urian, no!” Tannis grabbed his arm. “What are you about?”

  “Honor. Decency. And fair play. Same things your father taught you. We don’t pick on those weaker than us. Ever.” He felt his fangs cutting into his lips as he spoke—that was the degree of his rage and how much he wanted to taste the blood of his brother-in-law.

  Tannis shot to her feet. “They already think you’re a freak, adelphos! If you attack Erol over his husbandly rights—”

  “I can’t control what others think. And I don’t give a shit what they think of me. But I can stop him from hurting you.” Urian grimaced at the rawness of her throat as his fury continued to mount. There was no way he would let this go unpunished. It wasn’t in him. It just wasn’t. “I will not see you like this. Not because he can’t control himself.”

  He gently extricated his arm from her grasp, then headed for the hall where her husband normally passed the time with his friends. They oft gathered there, hoping for a stray Apollite or human to fall through one of Apollymi’s portals so that they could prey on them.

  Which said it all about their mind-sets.

  And with every step he took, his mood darkened so that by the time he entered the dismal hall, he was ready to taste blood and break some bones.

  Just as he expected, Erol sat near the front, at a table where he was surrounded by a group of young men. All laughing and having a grand time while Tannis had been left to weep alone.

  If he hadn’t been furious before, that alone would have pushed him to homicide.

  Worse? Two of those writhing beside him in drunken revelry were his own brothers. Telamon and Theo both drank from the veins of women they were passing between them. Xōrōn or blood-whores. Men and women who sold themselves to be used as food by other Apollites and Daimons.

  Drunk from the blood and lust that came from overfeeding, Telamon looked up to see Urian’s approach. He pulled back from the half-naked woman in his lap, causing her to whimper in protest. “Little brother, Uri … what are you doing here? No one wants you.”

  That caused Theo to withdraw from the woman he was screwing while feeding. Pity it wasn’t his pregnant wife who no doubt was at home, wondering where her husband was so that she could have her dinner.

  And none of them seemed to care about the fact that their brother-in-law had no better morals than they did when it came to their sister.

  Other than the fact that the lecherous bastards didn’t beat their wives. If he was ever lucky enough to find a woman who’d have him, he’d be loyal to her and treat her with respect and care. Not gallivant around like some insatiable satyr.

  Damn them all!

  With a furious snarl, Urian seized Erol and snatched him from the whore he was treating more kindly than he had Tannis and backhanded him.

  The much larger Apollite cursed before he attempted an undercut to Urian’s jaw. Urian blocked the punch and countered with a fist to Erol’s gut that caught him hard in the breadbasket. He staggered back, wheezing. Doubling his hands, Urian brought them down hard against Erol’s jaw, then again into his throat. Enraged beyond control, he was intent on the man’s utter destruction.

  Honestly, he wanted to gut him with his sword and it was a hard temptation to resist.

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  After that, Urian lost count of the punches as he unloaded his rage against the much larger beast. All he saw was his sister’s neck and her tears. Her sobs rang in his ears.

  Damn them straight to Tartarus!

  Until he felt his father pulling him away.

  “Stop!”

  His breathing ragged, Urian blinked hard as he realized how many people had gathered to witness his fury.

  Tannis was there, screaming at him while everyone else stood in stunned silence.

  Erol lay on the floor, covered in blood and sobbing.

  “What is wrong with you?” Theo glared at him.

  He was cursed. Sun deprived. Everyone hated him. Most days he hated himself. He needed better hobbies.

  In puberty. With assholes for brothers. And a dragon for a best friend.

  And he had a hangnail.

  Really, the list was endless.

  But most of all, Urian refused to back down or apologize. It just wasn’t in him. Instead, he kicked at Erol’s feet. “If he ever lays another angry hand to Tannis or puts another bruise on her body, even by accident, so help me, Apollymi, I’ll rip out his heart and feed it to him!”

  That succeeded in getting his father’s attention. “Excuse me?”

  Urian jerked his chin toward Tannis. “Look at what he did to her neck. Then criticize me and tell me I’m wrong.”

  Tannis stopped screaming immediately. Cringing at their father’s approach, she clutched Urian’s chalmys higher against her throat.

  But their father was having none of that. “Show me.”

  “It’s nothing, Baba.”

  Not even her use of “Daddy” could placate his mood or weaken his resolve. Their father’s eyes turned blood red. “Lower it and show me your throat. Now!”

  The moment she did, the hall cleared as everyone realized this was about to turn deadly. Everyone rushed to safety lest they take any of the fallout. Theo and Telamon scrambled to dress.

  “We didn’t know, Solren.” Telamon gulped audibly.

  Without a word, he turned to face Urian. “Take your sister home.”

  “Baba,” Tannis sobbed. “What are you going to do?”

  “Don’t you worry. Just leave with Urian. And take the others with you. Now!”

  Urian inclined his head respectfully. He knew better than to speak a single word when his father was like this, lest he find himself the scapegoat. Yet he knew his siblings were all pissed off at him. Not that there was anything new about that. It seemed a perpetual state for their ongoing relationships.

  A fact proven the moment they were clear of the hall.

  Theo was the first to strike him on the arm. “Can’t you ever mind your own business?”

  “Yeah!” Telamon shoved him from behind. “Why are you always meddling in our affairs? You’re such an asshole!”

  Tannis slapped at them. “Leave him alone!”

  Urian wasn’t sure who was the most stunned by her actions: his brothers or him.

  Especially when she reached out and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Uri. I know you were protecting me and I, for one, appreciate it.”

  Damn … how bad had Erol hurt her? “I love you, Tanny.”

  “I know. Love you, too.” She turned to glare at Telamon and Theo in turn. “And shame on both of you for the way you act. Neither of you has even asked if I’m all right. You’re such bastards!”

  When she started to leave, Urian reached out and took her hand. “You want to stay with us tonight?”

  Her lips trembled. Then she cast another shameful look toward his brothers. “You hate Urian for the way Solren dotes on him and you blame Urian for it. Instead, look to yourselves. This”—she gestured between them—“is why Urian holds the place he does with our parents. He thinks of others and is aware of everything around him while the two of you never see anything more than your own uselessness. You’re selfish and petty!”

  Taking Urian’s hand, she pulled him toward home. “Aye, Urian. I’d rather stay with you and Solren, tonight. I’ve no use for the others.”

  Stunned beyond rational thought, Urian didn’t speak as they headed home to the temple palace that was second in size only to Apollymi’s.

  Adjacent to the goddess’s, it’d been the one their father had chosen as his residence on his arrival here. Ironically, it’d belonged to the wife of Misos, the god of this underworld hell realm, when the Atlantean gods had called Kalosis home—which was why it had a back hallway that connected it to Apollymi’s temple.

  Because Thnita had been the queen of Kalosis, her palace was almost equal in size to the one Apollymi currently resided in. But from the stories others whispered, he knew that Apollymi hadn’t always lived there in that palace. At one time, she’d been a prisoner here in Kalosis, though he had no idea where the other gods had kept her sequestered during those days.

  Or how they’d managed to keep her contained. It must have surely been fun for them to try to restrain a goddess so powerful.

  Once as a boy, Urian had made the mistake of asking Apollymi where her cell had been in those days.

  That was the night he’d learned that her eyes didn’t always stay their swirling silver. Nor did her hair remain white-blond.

  He’d seen the true form of the Destroyer. And according to her pet Charonte, Xedrix, Urian was the only one not demon-born who’d ever survived an encounter with her in that state and lived to tell it.

  Lesson learned. Apollymi didn’t like to be questioned. And never, ever mention her imprisonment. At least not if one wanted to continue breathing.

  In fact, between her and his father, he’d learned not to question people at all if he wanted to remain healthy. Let them volunteer what they wanted you to know.

  It was much safer that way and resulted in a lot less bruises. Physically and mentally.

  Therefore Urian remained quiet as he led his sister through their ornate marble hall, toward the back where their rooms waited. No one had touched hers since her marriage.

  Just as they’d left their mother’s room exactly as it’d been on the night she’d gone to the human realm. In their mother’s case, all save their father would drift in here, seeking the comfort of her presence. The memories of her warmth. It was their way of preserving her memory and paying honor to her whenever they missed her more than they could bear.

  When it came to Tannis, their father had made it clear that in the event she needed a haven from Erol, she was to have her room here to withdraw to, at any time, and that none of them should ever encroach on it. Since she was the weakest member of the family, it was their job to protect her from any and all threats.

  “Tanny!” Ophion came running up to hug her the moment she came through the door.

  Atreus and Patroclus were right behind him.

  Laughing, she hugged them each in turn, calling them by name.

  Urian snorted. “I still don’t know how you can tell Atreus and Patroclus apart. I gave up and simply refer to them as ‘twin’ most days.”

  “Uri!” she chided. “That’s mean, especially coming from someone who is a twin.”

  “Aye, but I look nothing like Paris.” That was the beauty of being a fraternal set.

  “It’s all right, Tanny. Atreus and I don’t mind. Solren gets it wrong about half the time himself. We just don’t bother to correct him.”

  Cupping Patroclus’s chin, she tsked. “Perhaps we should write your names on your clothes.”

  Ophion scowled at Urian as he noted the bruises on his face. “Another fight?”

  Urian didn’t comment. “If you’ll excuse me …” He stepped past them so that he could head for his room at the end of the hallway.

  Once there, he closed his door, but still he could hear them gossiping about him.

  “Leave him alone, Tanny.”

  “I need to return his chalmys.”

  “I wouldn’t. I’m sure Urian’s going to feed and you’ll just make him mad if you intrude.”

  Urian
heard her pause in the hallway just outside his door with Ophie.

  “Oh!” Tannis gasped. “I didn’t know Urian had found someone.”

  “He hasn’t,” one of the twins whispered loudly.

  Clenching his teeth, Urian bit back a curse as he glanced toward the chilled bladder his father had left for him by his bed. He’d had no idea that his younger siblings had figured out what he was forced to do in order to live.

  Damn you, Apollo.

  And damn me.

  Pain and humiliation shredded him that he was relegated to this. Not even a xōrōn would accept money to feed him. How sad was that when even a whore couldn’t be bought? He was a complete outcast even among other outcasts.

  Urian shoved the bladder into a drawer. He’d rather starve than resort to it.

  Honestly? He’d rather die.

  Disgusted and ashamed, he pulled his dagger out and drew it across his forearm until he’d opened a deep slice to alleviate some of the pain he felt. Yet it no longer soothed him the way it once did. The agony now ran too deep.

  And that was the problem. His lows kept getting lower and his highs kept getting lower, too.

  At this rate of rapid descent, it wouldn’t be long before he’d have to fall down in order to get up.

  More than that, his father would have conniptions if he saw him cutting himself again. He’d already threatened to tie him to a rock like Prometheus if he saw so much as a single scar on his skin.

  “So help me, Urian! I’d beat you, except you seem to like the pain of it too much for it to be a deterrent!”

  It was true. No one could break him because he was already shattered. In so many, many ways.

  Suddenly a shadow fell over him.

  Expecting his father or one of his irritating brothers, Urian looked up, ready to battle.

  Until he realized it was Tannis materializing in his room, and he saw the sympathy in her dark eyes.

  With an expression of deep sympathy, she covered his hand with hers and pulled the dagger back from his arm. “Little baby, what are you doing?”

 
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