Stygian (The Dark-Hunter World Book 28)

by Sherrilyn Kenyon

  And his curse.

  “Enter.”

  He used his powers to open her doors and walked slowly toward her perch. Xedrix narrowed his glowing gaze at Urian, but Sabine ignored him as the Charonte female always did. Yet she watched him with an alertness that said she wouldn’t mind adding him to her menu should he do anything that displeased her mistress.

  Apollymi placed her red sfora down on the pillow and turned to meet Urian’s gaze. “What can I do for you, ormourpido?”

  “I have a favor I should like to beg of you, akra.”

  That caused one brow to arch. “If you ask me about freeing that dragon one more time—”

  “Nay, akra. It’s not that …” Obviously, he’d aggravated her about Xyn so much that it’d become a sore topic for the goddess. So he quickly changed the subject to what had caused him to disturb her tonight. “I’ve asked Xanthia to marry me.”

  She dropped the sfora.

  Xedrix ran to catch it.

  Apollymi rose up to float above them all. She wasn’t standing; she hovered in the air, over the black waters. “Pardon? Do you love her?”

  Unsure of her mood for once, he swallowed hard before he answered her honestly. “Nay, akra. It’s … a mutual benefit.”

  “I see.” Her eyes began to glow red. “And this favor you would have of me?”

  More than a little nervous at her peculiar act, Urian took a deep breath. “Do you remember what I said to you when I was a child?”

  “Aye, but you said many things to me when you were young. To which one are you referring now?”

  The one that haunted him constantly. The one that weighed on his conscience the heaviest. And it was the one he couldn’t go into marriage without addressing first.

  “About children, akra. I meant what I said. The last thing I want is to father a babe I have to watch die. Or one I have to stand over when he or she goes Daimon and becomes a soulless killer. Hunted. Hated. Can you please make it so that I will never father any while I’m an Apollite?”

  Her jaw dropped at his request. “Do you understand what it is you’re asking me, Urian?”

  “Aye, akra.” His gaze went to the pillow she’d dropped on the ground. “I know the pain that haunts you. The pain that drove mi solren to bargain away his very soul. I’ve killed enough treli here, and seen enough Daimon conversions and Apollite deaths to know well what fate awaits me. I don’t want that for my children. It’s no way for anyone to live. Please spare me your heartache, akra. I beg you for that mercy.”

  More tears glistened in her eyes as she lowered herself to stand before him. Reaching out, she drew him into her arms and kissed his forehead. “Then it is done, my precious one. You are sterile.”

  Strange, he didn’t feel any differently. But if she said he was sterile, he would trust in her. “Thank you, akra.”

  “Don’t thank me, Urian. Not for this. Because I’ve taken from you the single greatest joy I’ve ever known.”

  “Nay, akra.” He glanced down at the tearstained pillow. “As you said, it’s all about how you look at things. What you took from me was the greatest heartache and pain you’ve ever suffered.”

  She inclined her head to him. “As you say, m’gios. Life is all about perspective.”

  Xanthia froze as she felt a chill rush down her spine. It was one she was intimate with and the one she hated more than anything. Yet she knew better than to let it show, for that would be a death sentence. Bracing herself, she forced a false smile to her lips.

  “My lord.” She curtsied before the ancient god.

  Disguised as an Apollite, the god of sorcery and the blackest craft glanced around the small room with a sneer. “What a wretched hovel they’ve given you.”

  Honestly, it was better than the death sentence his pantheon had bestowed upon her and her children. All things considered, she’d much rather have the cottage.

  Besides, experience had taught her that the ancient god didn’t want her to speak. So she kept her gaze on the floor and her thoughts to herself while he pranced and preened about in front of her. And she didn’t miss the irony that the god of sunshine certainly brought none whatsoever to her life whenever Helios came near. Indeed, she’d be hard-pressed to decide who was gloomier—Helios or Apollo.

  He stopped short and turned toward her. “How far have you progressed in my plans?”

  “Stryker’s son has proposed to me.”

  “Good girl! Which son?”

  “His favorite.”

  For once he seemed pleased. “Well, aren’t you full of surprises …” He smiled. “Does he love you?”

  “Not yet, but he will.”

  His gaze intensified. “Excellent. You’ve proven yourself worthy. So I will give you what you’ve asked. You want to walk in daylight again … help me to remove Apollo from my pantheon. Destroy his bloodline and I’ll see to it that you reign at my side as the new queen of the dawn.”

  “And what of my blood-hunger? How am I to eat if there are no more Apollites?”

  “You remove Stryker and his wretched brood from existence, child, and I’ll hand-feed you the ambrosia and nectar you need for immortality, myself.”

  He moved to stand in front of her. “It’s a simple exchange. I want that repulsive upstart removed from my pantheon and you want your life back. Give me what I deserve and I’ll give you your dreams. All you have to do is remove Apollo’s bloodline from this domain where I cannot reach him without causing a war.”

  Helios smiled coldly. “A simple exchange and we’ll both be happy.”

  Xyn shivered as she felt a presence she hadn’t felt in so long that at first she thought she must be imagining it. Surely, this was some forgotten nightmare.

  “I’ll be damned, daughter.”

  Her blood went cold … er.

  Turning, she was stunned to see her father in the shadows of the falls, where Apollymi would splinter him into oblivion if she caught him invading her domain. “What are you doing here?”

  Helios swept an appreciative gaze over her human form. “But for the red hair and green eyes, you are the very vision of your mother … before her curse.”

  “And again, I ask why you’re here. You have one heartbeat before I alert my goddess and see you well met for your treachery.”

  “I doubt that. If Apollymi comes, I’ll simply tell her you let me in. How else would I have been able to get through her portal without her knowledge?”

  Xyn sucked her breath in sharply at his threat. She’d call him a liar, but it was the type of betrayal he and his kind specialized in. The Greeks were bastards that way, and none more so than the Titans. Hence why Zeus had castrated his own father after his father had murdered his own child.

  There was nothing she’d put past them.

  “How did you get in?”

  “Like I’d tell you my secret?” Helios reached to touch her chin.

  She recoiled from his touch as if he were a viper. And indeed, that was how she viewed him. “You’ve never been a father to me.”

  “True, but then you’ve never been useful before.”

  A chill went down her spine. “How do you mean?”

  His gaze went past her to the grove where Apollymi’s sacred tree grew. “The ypnsi of the Haxyn tree. There’s something I want you to do with it.”

  She wanted to tell him that she wouldn’t help him. But she knew that she didn’t have the power. He’d blackmail her into it. So long as it didn’t harm Urian, she’d go along with his plans.

  And that made her hate herself all the more.

  Just please don’t let Urian find out about this …

  June 27, 9511 BC

  Urian paused as he caught sight of Apollymi sniffing at the air around him. She even smelled his hair and cloak. “Is something wrong, akra?”

  She sniffed twice more at his shoulders. “I swear I smell Greek!”

  Perturbed by the way she continued to sniff and paw him as if his body were the odor that offended her, he sco
wled. “There are a lot of olive vines my solren placed about for the ceremony.”

  Apollymi gave him a most peeved glare. “I know the difference between a plant and the greasy smell of one of their ilk. It reeks of a god. And this is the repellent odor of …” Her voice trailed off as Davyn approached them.

  With Urian’s mother.

  Delighted beyond belief, he gasped at the sight of her. “Mata!”

  Smiling, she rushed to hug him and kiss his cheeks. “Oh! Look how beautiful you are!”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “You didn’t think I’d miss your wedding, did you?”

  Apollymi scoffed and pressed her hand to her nose.

  Urian ignored her as he realized that it was her way of saying that his mother must be the Greek she thought she’d been smelling.

  He glanced at the goddess over his mother’s head to catch her swirling gaze and rolled his eyes at her meanness.

  Xedrix choked at Urian’s audacity but quickly caught himself as the goddess turned her haughty gaze toward her favorite blue demon. While she might tolerate insolence from Urian, she’d never take it from her Charonte. Xedrix, she might very well pull his wings off and mount them to the wall.

  Urian tucked his mother’s hand into the crook of his elbow. “Come, Mata. Let me introduce you to my Thia.”

  Always perceptive and wary of the number of Daimons who now called Kalosis home, she followed and stayed closely by his side. “I’ve missed you, Urian.”

  Urian tightened his hand over her fingers. “I’ve missed you too.”

  She pulled him to a stop. “Please … I have to know. Did I do something to upset you? Is there a reason why you’ve stayed away for so long?”

  “I know about …” He choked on the words that burned bitter in his throat. He couldn’t bring himself to mention her human lover no matter how happy the man might make her. It galled him too much to think about it.

  His mother’s eyes bulged as she realized what had him upset. “How do you know about Memnus?”

  He ground his teeth as he realized that it was the man he’d met the last time he’d seen her. That was even more galling. “I came to see you one night and overheard the two of you.”

  The color faded from her cheeks. “Urian—”

  He squeezed her hand reassuringly. “It’s all right, Mata. I understand. You’re entitled to have someone who cares for you, and I harbor no ill will toward either of you.” He offered her a sincere smile. “There’s nothing I want more than for you to be happy.”

  Cupping his jaw, she pulled his head down and pressed her cheek to his. “S’agapo para poli moro mou.”

  Those words brought tears to his eyes. He’d forgotten how much he’d missed his mother. What it felt like to be wrapped in the warmth of arms that didn’t judge him or expect anything from him at all. This was the only thing missing from his relationship with Xyn. He’d give anything to have her hold him like this and warm him inside and out.

  “Baba Urian! Can I go play with Abiron and Kylas?”

  He laughed as he pulled back from his mother’s warm embrace to see his own son. “Mata … meet Geras, my new little one.” He stepped back so that she could see Xanthia’s golden-haired cherub. His short monochiton was already stained from play. No doubt his mother would have a conniption when she saw how dirty he was. But having been that age not so long ago, Urian well understood the boy’s rambunctiousness. As well as the fact that his fibula wouldn’t stay on his shoulder.

  Kneeling, Urian repinned it a bit tighter before Xanthia saw it and fussed at Geras the way his mother used to do with him and his brothers. “Of course you may play with your cousins. Just don’t get into trouble or let them lead you too close to the Charonte. They tend to eat little Apollites who venture too close to their domain.”

  Eyes wide in fear, Geras glanced toward Xedrix and Sabine. The orange-and-yellow-swirled Charonte female looked over as if she’d heard his words. Her eyes flashed.

  Geras gasped and ran off.

  With a laugh, his mother shook her head. “Fatherhood looks good on you. But then you were always patient with your nieces and nephews.”

  Though she’d meant it as a compliment, it only saddened and wounded him deep in his heart. In a perfect world, he’d have loved a house full of children. To watch them grow and play.

  But not in this world. Not with their curse hanging over their heads.

  He and Paris both agreed on that. They refused to do what their other siblings had selfishly done and force their children to face their death sentence. He was all too aware of how close that deadline loomed. Of how precious every night between now and then was.

  And how precarious every breath afterward would be. He vowed that he would relish whatever time he had.

  Even if it meant being married to a woman he didn’t really love for the sake of convenience. After all, he didn’t have the luxury of waiting.

  “Is he her only child?”

  “Nay. She has a daughter.” Urian jerked his chin toward Nephele, who was standing off in a small circle of friends. Her purple peplos had been borrowed from Tannis, yet it was extremely fetching on the girl. Too fetching for Urian’s comfort, as he wanted to chase away all the young boys Nephele’s beauty attracted. While she might not be his natural daughter, he was no less protective of her and he considered her as much his daughter as if he’d sired her. “Her name is Nephele.”

  “If she looks anything like her mother, then your Xanthia must be a great beauty indeed.”

  “Thank you.”

  They turned at the sound of Xanthia’s voice to find her behind them.

  Urian inclined his head respectfully. “Mata … meet my bride.”

  Gripping one another’s forearms, they gracefully kissed each cheek in turn, and then Xanthia curtsied to the human mother she’d cursed Urian for having. He watched them closely, ready to intervene at any second if Xanthia said anything to hurt his mother’s feelings.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, kyria. Urian has had such wonderful things to say about you. I feel as if we’ve already met.”

  “You’re too kind, Xanthia. And I’m thrilled to see my boy so well settled, and with such a great beauty no less. I’m sure the goddess will bless you both with even more children.”

  “I hope so. Nothing would thrill me more.” Xanthia’s eyes widened. “Please excuse me.… Geras! Don’t you dare!” She rushed off after Geras, who was trying to light a fire from his posterior.

  Urian shook his head at the boy’s antics.

  “Don’t you dare laugh.” His mother popped him playfully on his bare arm. “I seem to recall a certain pair of twins doing the same thing at that age.”

  “Aye, but we were better at it. We actually succeeded.”

  “And almost set fire to your solren’s study.”

  “And he in turn set fire to our asses,” Paris said with a jovial laugh as he joined them. “Greetings, Mata. How are you?”

  Smiling, she cupped his chin and kissed him. “Wonderful, now that I’ve seen my boys. And where’s your better half?”

  “Ah! I always knew you preferred Davyn to me, and now I have proof.” His golden-blond curls dancing, he sobered as the merriment went out of his eyes. “I told him to stay home, if that’s all right. He’s still mourning the loss of his sister and her family.”

  Urian winced. “Understood. The last thing I want is to cause him more pain.”

  “Good. He feared you might think his absence was meant as a disrespect or slight.”

  Urian was aghast. “Never. I know his heart better than that. I’d never lay such ill intent upon him.”

  That relaxed his twin instantly. “Such evil’s not in him, either. It’s why I’m with him over anyone else. While others scheme and plot, he’s loyal to a fault.”

  No one knew that better than Urian, except for probably Paris.

  Their mother straightened Paris’s cloak. “Then I will make sure and visit with him
before I leave. I can’t go home without seeing all my boys and letting them know I love them.”

  Paris smiled. “I’ve missed you, Mata.”

  “And I you.” She glanced over his shoulder to where one of the Daimons was eyeing her.

  Urian glared at the bastard, daring him to even think about coming near them.

  “I’ve got him.” Paris left them to go have words with the man who was new to their world and who had no idea that Hellen was off his menu.

  Forever.

  Even so, she moved a little closer to Urian. “There are a lot more here than there were before.”

  “Aye. More come here every day to seek refuge from the human world.”

  “Like your soon-to-be bride.”

  He nodded.

  “Yet you do not love her.”

  Urian froze at those words.

  His mother slid a gimlet stare toward him. “Deny it if I’m wrong.”

  The problem was, she’d seen a truth he didn’t like admitting out loud. A truth he did his best to conceal from everyone.

  Even himself.

  But she was his mother and she knew his heart better than anyone other than Xyn, who had also commented on a fact he couldn’t hide from her either.

  His mother’s face fell instantly as tears welled in her eyes. “Oh, baby … why are you doing this if you don’t love her?”

  “She feeds me, Mata. No one else will. I have to have blood to live.”

  Swallowing hard, she squeezed his arm. “I’m so sorry, Urian. You deserve to have a fiery passion. The kind that makes you mindless and—”

  “Nay, Mata,” he said, cutting her off before someone overheard her words and carried them to Xanthia. “I don’t want that. Ever. Our lives are too short. I want control of myself. We have to have that in order to survive.”

  She scoffed. “My pragmatist. You’re too young to be so old. So jaded. What has killed the boy inside you?”

  His gaze went to where his father sat alone on his cold, black throne made of the bones of Misos’s enemies, and old memories stirred inside him. “That boy died the night I saw my father go Daimon after his own father tried to end his life, and I realized that there is no mercy in this world for any of us. We are all damned from the cradle to the grave. Life isn’t for the meek. It’s for those too stubborn to give in.”