Just because you have it bad, Acheron, it doesn’t mean I have it good.No wonder Styxx had snarled that at him.
Repeatedly. But the scar that really racked him was the one right over his heart. The one Ash had given his own brother … out of pain.
Because he’d wanted it all to just stop hurting. “Why are you still here?” Styxx asked. “You wanted me out of your life. I’m out. I’m sorry I sent that damn horse that I didn’t want to look at anymore. I won’t ever bother any of you again. Just go!”
“Why did you send it?”
A tic worked in Styxx’s jaw. “Because I promised you that I wouldn’t let anything happen to it, and contrary to what you think of me, I don’t break the promises I make.”
Ash closed his eyes as pain overwhelmed him.Why didn’t I talk to you when you were in Katateros like you’d asked me to?
Because he’d been angry. Hurt.
Mostly angry.
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry, Styxx.”
Styxx gave him an astonished glare. “Oh, okay.” His tone dripped with sarcasm. “Glad you got it all off your chest. Ta ta!”
You are an asshole.
So what if it was justified?
Ash sighed. “Before I go, would you like to see a picture of Sebastos with your gift?”
When those searing blue eyes met his, the raw anguish in them hit Ash like a groin kick. “You think you know pain? You don’t. Trust me. I lived your fucking life, remember? I know every single detail of it. And since Artemis had me locked in that hell and I saw why you hate me for no reason and for things I had no part in, it has taken everything I have to not hate you for it, and for what your mother did to me. For everything she stole from me. But if you show me a picture of your perfect, healthy son, I will not be responsible for what I do to you. And before you go Ryssa on me, and tell me how selfish I really am … I do not begrudge you your happiness or your family. I don’t have room in my thoughts for it as I’m too busy grieving for mine. Now go!”
Nodding, Ash backed out of the tent.
He heard Styxx’s anguished bellow of unleashed rage. It was the same sound of injustice that rang out whenever a Dark-Hunter died as a human. It was the sound that summoned Artemis down from Olympus to ask them if they would like to sell their soul to her for an act of vengeance against the person or persons who’d wronged them.
Acheron had never once thought someone would make it because of his actions against them.
And never would he have dreamed it would come from the throat of his own brother. He’d been so wrapped up in his own pain and anger that he’d never once considered Styxx’s. From the outside, Styxx’s life had looked so perfect.
Beloved prince. Hero of Didymos. Heir to a vast empire.
But a house could look new on the outside and be riddled with termites that ate away at its foundations until it crumbled from the strain of trying to hold itself up under their brutal assault.
And a single smile could hide profound pain.
“I am sorry, Styxx.” And this time, he really meant it.
Needing his own sense of peace, Acheron headed for Savitar’s island home. Since it was dusk there, he found his old mentor and friend in a black wet suit sitting in the surf beside his surfboard, watching the sunset over the ocean. Leaning back on his arms, he had his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles.
Savitar groaned the minute he saw him. “Grom coming to disturb my mellow. What up, my brother?”
Ash transformed his clothes into a wet suit so that he could join Savitar in the surf. He sat down. Bending his knees and wrapping his arms around his legs, he sighed heavily. “Urian said that you had to pull Styxx out of a coma?”
Savitar nodded.
“What do you know about his past?”
The ancient Chthonian shrugged nonchalantly. “You were his brother. You should know.”
“Don’t play with me, Sav. Not in the mood.”
He glanced over at Ash. “I truly don’t know more than a handful of details.”
