She paused at the sight of two huge fighters heading toward her.

"No, but I got to pound his little Greek ass. I can't believe that piece of shit ever led an army."

"As I recall, he led that army right over yours and burned it to the ground."

"Shut up."

Bethany's stomach churned over their cruelty as she headed down the hallway they'd come from. She knew who they'd been talking about and it sliced her like a thousand knives. How could I have left him to this?

Alone and unprotected.

All around her prisoners cried and begged for mercy or food as a guard ladled water into misshapen or broken bowls and then shoved them through small cutouts at the bottom of the locked doors.

"Where's Styxx of Didymos?"

The guard quirked a brow at her. He spat on the ground by his feet then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he gave her a speculative glare. "There's a fee for that information, and the fee depends on what it is you want to do to him."

"Talk to him."

He laughed. "No one talks to him, girl. I'm not stupid. And I can't let you bleed him. He has a fight today and I have money bet on it."

She rose up in her god form to tower over the little weasel. "Where is he?" she snarled.

He shrank back in fear. "Forgive me, goddess. I didn't realize it was one of you wanting him again. He's there." He gestured to a door on the right.

Grabbing the water bucket from him, she went to the door and opened it. But what she found inside froze her to the spot as it drove horror straight into her heart.

Completely naked and filthy to an inhuman level, Styxx was chained like an animal. He had a thick iron collar around his neck that had a huge chain connected to it. A chain that ran to iron cuffs on his wrists and ankles. The chains went from him to a system of pulleys by the door that determined how much freedom he was allowed in the room. She winced as she remembered how badly he hated to be bound by anything.

Even a frail, light scarf.

Blood, dirt, cuts, and bruises covered his entire body. Tears choked her. His beautiful blond hair was greasy and filthy and matted with blood and dirt.

Styxx wrapped his hand in the chains that held him as he saw his latest "visitor" entering his dark cell. Still raw and bleeding from the last two, he only wanted a few minutes to lie in the darkness and try to forget what they'd done to him.

But the greedy bastards wouldn't allow him even a moment's peace.

At least this one was a petite blond woman who appeared unarmed. Because Atlantean women lacked the strength and stamina of their men, he much preferred their torture. Usually they were content to slap or scratch, or spit on him. They were only really dangerous when they were armed.

As the door closed behind her, he sprang into a feral crouch so that he could watch her and see what foul game she wanted to play. His head spun from pain and hunger. Shaking his head, he forced himself to stay focused and sharp.

He had to.

Bethany wanted to weep as those beautiful blue eyes locked with hers. For a moment, she thought she'd vomit as she saw the insanity inside him. They had reduced him to a rabid animal. And worse was the knowledge that Epithymia had kissed him, and as such, had given him a truly unearthly allure now. Even filthy, he made her heart quicken and desire tear through her. Not that she wouldn't have felt it anyway. But she knew her cousin's sick touch.

"Styxx?"

He growled at her, backing away, deeper into the shadows.

Moving slow and easy, she held the water bucket out toward him. Still, he retreated from her.

Bethany placed it within his reach and then stepped to the door.

Only then did he approach it ... on all fours like a beaten dog. He was so wary and skittish, it broke her heart. He kept his gaze on her as if waiting for her to hurt him as he inched his way to the bucket. He sniffed it carefully then dipped his fingers into the water so that he could taste a few drops. Satisfied it was untainted, he expelled an elongated breath. Those blue eyes didn't waver from her as he cupped his hand and took a drink as if he hadn't had any water for days. There was no refinement to him at all as he drank fast and furiously.

Someone coughed in the hallway.

He shot away from the bucket, back into the cell's corner, where he crouched, ready to fight.

Bethany manifested a loaf of bread. Holding it out for him, she approached him slowly. This time she got close enough to see the ragged scratches and cuts on his face. The blood and dirt matted in his beard. The deep and ugly healing wounds from weapons, fangs and claws on his arms, legs, chest, abdomen and back.

As badly as his body had been scarred before, it was nothing compared to what she saw now. Did they not allow him any armor in the arena?

From the look of his body, he must fight against his opponents completely naked ...

"I won't hurt you," she said gently. She tore a piece of bread for him. "Here."

The suspicion in his gaze shredded her conscience. Even though she heard his stomach rumbling from hunger, he refused to take her bread.

When she was almost close enough to touch him and he'd reached the limit of his chains, his eyes flared with anger.

"It's all right." She got rid of the bread and held her necklace up for him to see it. "Do you want it back?"

The moment his gaze focused on it, a single tear slid down his filthy, swollen cheek.

And that succeeded in wringing a sob from her. "Give me your arm and I'll return it to you."

Styxx hesitated before he obeyed and scooted close enough for her to reach only his wrist. He held out his scarred right hand that he still couldn't open all the way from when the Thracians had attacked him and pinned it to the ground with a dagger.

Ignoring the scars, scabs, and bruises on his forearm, she wound it about his wrist and secured it.

He crawled back to his corner and sat in a tight ball, clutching his good hand over her necklace as if it was a priceless treasure.

This time when she approached him, he didn't move. He sat rigid, his breathing ragged as he continued to rub her necklace with his ravaged fingers.

"What have they done to you?" she breathed, reaching to brush his hair back from his battered face. Given his condition, the more appropriate question was probably what had they not done to him.

He closed his eyes and held his arms over his head as if he expected her to slap or claw him. And he kept his good hand locked over her necklace to protect it.

And that broke her heart even more. Wanting to comfort him, she traced the line of his jaw.

"Don't." His ragged whisper surprised her.

"Don't what?"

His eyes filled with tears, but none fell as he glanced away.

Her fury mounted. She wasn't about to leave him here to be treated like this. Rising to her feet, she blasted away the chains that held him. Instead of being relieved, he scrambled away to try and find something to protect himself with. His eyes wild, he searched the room with his gaze.

That only made her madder. As bad as Apollo had behaved, her own pantheon had traumatized him worse than anything imaginable.

Damn them all!

She held her hand out toward Styxx. "I won't hurt you. Bethany sent me."

For a moment he calmed then he shook his head as agony refilled his gaze. "You're lying."

"I swear, I'm not. Take my hand and I'll get you out of here."

Styxx knew better. He was only allowed outside for deplorable things. Better to be tortured and raped in private than out in the arena for everyone to see and cheer. Nothing good ever happened outside of this place. 'Course nothing good ever happened inside either.

But at least in here, he was sometimes left alone.

She reached for him.

He recoiled and glanced to the door he knew was locked. Or worse, it wasn't, and if he went into the hall they'd throw him down and cage him then haul him into the arena to fight until they beat him down and punished him again.

"Take my hand. I promise I'll take you away from this."

But he wasn't stupid or naive-they'd beat that out of him a long time ago. "And go where?"

"Where I can heal you before I send you home."

Bullshit. He was never going home again, and at this point, he no longer wanted to. If his father ever found out about this ...

No. He just wanted them to kill him. Yet even that was asking for a mercy no god was willing to extend.

Bethany's eyes teared up at the suspicion in those celestial blue eyes. How could I have allowed them to do this to you? How could I say I loved you and not have bothered to check on you, at all?

Guilt tore through her. "You can trust me."

He scoffed at her words as if they were bitter to him. But with no real choice, he finally placed his hand in hers.

Bethany took him to her temple on Katateros. Summoning a formesta, she wrapped it around his battered and bruised body.

Styxx held his breath as the goddess gently urged him to follow her to an indoor atrium that had a huge pool in the center of it.

"Would you like me to help you bathe?"

He shook his head. He didn't want anyone to touch him.

"Very well. I'll be right back with food."

His stomach knotted with dread and hunger, he glanced around, waiting for it to be another trick. Somehow it had to be ...

But that steaming water looked so inviting. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a real bath and not buckets of ice-cold water dumped on top of him. He started away from it, but the temptation to get some of the filth off his body was too great.

Either way, they're going to fuck me. At least let him have a little comfort before the next violent round began. Slowly and with great trepidation, he made his way to the stairs that led down into the warm, steamy salt water.

He tested the step, expecting it to give way or for something to come out of the water and attack him. But nothing happened. Taking a deep breath, he dropped the formesta and tentatively entered the pool.

He'd barely begun to relax when the woman returned.

Styxx made his way to the far end of the pool, and backed up so that he could keep her in his line of sight and his spine and hand against the tile. Just in case.

Bethany blinked away tears as she saw the way he continued to watch her as if expecting an attack. She set the tray of food down not far from him then she went to get bathing implements.

When she returned with them, she noticed that the only thing he'd taken to eat was an apple. One he scrubbed and inspected very carefully. He put it in his teeth to hold it while he kept one hand on the edge of the pool and the other free.

She uncovered the canisters to show him the soaps, oils, and lotions. Then she picked up the razor and mirror and left them for him. She backed away to sit on her white chaise.

Only then did he continue to eat his apple. All the while his gaze would only leave her so that he could randomly search the shadows from time to time.

When he finished with his single apple, he placed the core on the tray and took the razor.

Fascinated, she watched him shave without using a mirror. She'd never seen a man do that before. But as he cleaned himself, he uncovered evidence of what had been done to him. Fresh scars and bruises and injuries in places that made her want to hunt down those who'd hurt him and make them pay for it.

She conjured him a towel and fresh clothes.

When she started for him, he shot to the opposite side of the pool.

"It's just a towel, pants, and a formesta." She set them down and backed away again.

Only then did he leave the pool.

While he dressed, Bethany averted her gaze from his back, which was a bleeding, bruised mess of injuries and fresh scars. Those bastards. How could they have tortured him like this?

When she returned her gaze to him, he had a deep frown on his face as he studied her emblem on the back of the formesta. "What's wrong?"

"Is this you?" he asked through clenched teeth.

"Yes."

Anger and panic darkened his eyes as he dropped the formesta and looked for an escape.

"It's all right."

His breathing intensified. "You hate me. You've tried to kill me repeatedly. You set a bounty for my head."

"No ... I mean, I did. But I don't."

That only confused him more.

"It's the same emblem on your necklace that Bethany gave you. Look at it."

He did and his scowl returned.

"I'm her patron goddess. I didn't know you were her Hector. Had I known, I would never have tried to hurt you. I swear it to you, Styxx."

Tears filled his eyes as he caressed her necklace. "Do you know how she fares? Is she well?"

"She is."

Swallowing hard, he let go of the necklace and picked up the formesta. His movements were so slow and pain-filled that it wrung her heart. This wasn't the graceful warrior and lover she'd known. This was someone who'd been beaten to the brink of death and kept as an animal for far too long.

"Would you like something else to eat?"

His hungry gaze made her own stomach cramp in sympathetic pain. But he shook his head.

Then she realized why. "It's not drugged." Getting up, she went and took a bite of the food herself. Next she poured the wine and tasted it for him.

Even so, he didn't take it.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I've already fallen for that trick. You'll have to think of a new one." It was only then she realized he still had the razor tucked into his hand as he watched her warily as if waiting for her to turn on him. "Are you going to rape me, too?"

She winced at his question. "No."

His eyes accused her of treachery and lies. But the worst was the agony and exhaustion she saw in the depths of his crystal gaze as he continued to search out every shadow. "I'm not stupid. I know you didn't bring me here and clean me up to be nice. Where are the others?"

"There are no others."

"Don't lie to me," he snarled. "You only clean me up when you're going to pass me around. I'd rather you get on with it than pretend to be kind." His gaze returned to the shadows. "Is Archon or Asteros watching? Ydor?"

She winced at the confirmation that her family was every bit as depraved as the Greeks. "There's no trickery or treachery, Styxx. I swear."

But he wasn't about to believe her, and honestly, she couldn't blame him. He'd been abandoned by his family. His gods.

And her.

Right now he needed to rest. Yet she knew he wouldn't relax after what they'd done to him. How could he? They had put him through horrors that no one should suffer.

And she couldn't send him home until she found out what Apollo was doing in Didymos. How he was keeping Styxx's imprisonment a secret from his ever-neglectful family.

So she used her powers to lull him until he was drugged.

"Put the razor down, Styxx."

He hesitated before he obeyed.

"Take my hand."

Again, he tried to fight it, but couldn't. In the end, he placed his hand into hers and she pulled him to her bedroom. Even though he couldn't resist or fight her wishes, she felt his panic as he feared her intent. She pulled the formesta off his shoulders and tucked him into her bed.

She leaned over him and kissed his bruised cheek. "Sleep in peace, prince. No one is going to harm you."

His breathing ragged, he fought it, but in the end, his eyes fluttered closed and he finally relaxed. While he slept, she heard his stomach rumbling in hunger.

Silent tears fell as she ran her hand over the new scars on his chest and arms. Over handprints, cuts, and bruises, both fresh and healing, that attested to the nightmare he'd been through.

Alone.

For Apollo to hand him over to his enemies, who wanted vengeance not only against him, but against his people ...

What had made the rotten bastard do something so cold?

In the end, she blamed herself for all of this. She'd walked away from him and gone on with her life.

That wasn't entirely true. She'd missed him every minute of every day, which was why she hadn't checked on him. She'd been too afraid to see him again. Because in her heart, she'd known that if she saw him, she wouldn't be able to leave him alone.

And she'd been right.

This had been the hardest year of her life. Every day she'd gotten up thinking it would be easier and instead, it'd been harder. Knowing he was out there and she couldn't go to him ...

It'd been pure hell.

Against her common sense, she tucked herself into bed and snuggled up to the only man she'd ever loved. And with every glimpse of his injuries, she hated herself for allowing this to happen to him.

He would never have willingly left her to such a fate. Never willingly have walked out of her life for any reason ...

She was a goddess. She'd known how alone he was, and what had she done?

Left him unprotected in a world that hated him.

"I am so sorry, Styxx." But that changed nothing about the horrors he'd endured and survived because of her heartless neglect. "I will make this right for you. Whatever it takes." She had no idea how, though. Apollo would be furious when he found out that she'd taken possession of Styxx. Technically, he still owned him.

And knowing that her own pantheon had participated in Styxx's abuse ...

That they had allowed him to be held here and tortured for entertainment.

It was enough to make her side with Apollymi. Damn you all for this! How could they be so incredibly callous?

One thing was certain, she had no intention of helping them hunt down Apostolos. They could all burn for what she cared.

They deserved it for what they'd done to a decent man whose only crime had been fighting for his own people in a war hers had started.

Bethany wrapped her arms around him, wishing she could erase everything from his memory. But she didn't have those powers.

And for the first time in a year, she was finally happy again as his spicy, masculine scent and the warmth of his long, hard body lulled her. All she wanted was to hear him say what he used to say whenever they had a long separation, "I missed you with every beat of my heart."

Most likely, he would never say that to her again. And who could blame him? She'd betrayed him in the worst sort of way.

Would you be able to forgive this?

No, she wouldn't. Not for anything.

It was unconscionable and cruel. Closing her eyes, she cradled his head and laid her hand over the horrible bruise on his cheek. "No one will ever hurt you again, akribos. I won't let them."

* * *

Styxx took a deep breath and sighed. I must be dreaming. Even though he was starving, he was too warm and comfortable. More than that, he felt soft curves against his body and smelled the sweet eucalyptus and lily scent that he'd craved more than anything.

Unshed tears tightened his throat as he waited for it all to dissipate, and leave him back in his filthy hole, chained to the wall.

That was his thought until the body next to his rolled over and threw a knee into his crotch.

Hissing in pain, he opened his eyes to see a golden green gaze that mirrored his own shock. For a full minute, he couldn't move as he waited for her to vanish.

"Beth?"

Bethany was frozen by the anguished longing that seared her. She must have fallen asleep next to Styxx ... which would have returned her to her real appearance.

And since they were in her temple, she had her eyesight.

I should leave. But she couldn't. Those blue eyes held her immobile.

"Hi," she breathed.

He stared at her as if she were the last delicacy on the planet and he hadn't eaten in a year or more. Before she could move, he slowly lowered his lips to hers.

Bethany groaned at how good he tasted. He rolled her to her back as he deepened the kiss and made her head swim. He'd always been a phenomenal kisser, but this one ...

It made all his previous kisses seem chaste.

Styxx closed his eyes as her tongue danced with his and her scent filled his head until he was drunk from it. You know this isn't real. It's a trick....

But he knew her taste. Her smell. The way she held him. How could this be a trick? He buried his face in the crook of her neck and let the horror of the last year fade away. She felt so good in his arms. And when she cupped him, he trembled.

"I've missed you," she breathed in his ear.

"With every beat of my heart," he whispered back to her.

Bethany choked on a sob as he slid his long body against hers. He dipped his head down to suckle her breast. Cupping his head, she sank her hands into his soft golden hair.

"Please be real." His ragged plea tore through her.

Guilt stabbed her so hard, she couldn't breathe. "I'm real."

He laid his head down on her stomach and gathered her into his arms. His hot, silent tears scorched her as they fell against her skin. He held on to her as if she was his lifeline. As if she was unspeakably precious.

Then he reached out and took her hand into his and pressed it against his cheek. The expression on his face as he savored her touch made her heart break for him.

Until he tore himself away from her and backed away. "Just kill me ... please."

"Styxx-"

"You're not my Beth," he growled ferociously.

Another tear fell down his cheek. Throwing his head back, he roared out in pain. "You wanted me broken, you fucking bastard! Fine! I yield!" he shouted then he lowered his voice to a whisper. "I yield." The pain on his face as he looked at her tore her apart. "Please, don't do this to me. I'd rather you beat or rape me than use my Beth against me." He reached for her then balled his hand into a fist.

Leaving the bed, he sank to the floor and curled into a ball. He covered his head with his arms.

She knelt down beside him and brushed her hand through his hair. "Styxx ... it's me."

He refused to look at her. "No. My Beth doesn't call me Styxx ... she doesn't hate me." He cupped his hand around her necklace and sobbed like his heart was as splintered as hers. "Please don't taint the only good thing I've ever known. I'll do anything you ask. Just don't taint her memory. It's all I have left."

"Okay." She kissed his head then withdrew from him. "You rest and I'll return later."

He slinked back on the floor, into the corner like a whipped dog.

Bethany got up slowly as her fury tripled. In her mind, she saw him as he'd been. Proud. Fierce. Defiant.

Protective.

And now he was completely shattered.

It's my fault. All of this. She'd known how isolated he was. How willing he was to give up everything he had, even a throne, to be with her as a poor blind peasant.

Yet for her family's sake, for the sake of her people, she'd let him go. She'd put all of them before him and how had they repaid her?

They'd violated and destroyed the only thing she'd ever loved. They had torn him apart and laughed while they did it.

Rage darkened her sight as she went to Archon. He was alone in his own temple, using a sfora as he tried to find the child she hoped would kill him.

Forcing herself to appear calm, she approached him slowly. "Did you know Prince Styxx was in Aeryn?"

"Huh?" He wasn't really paying attention to her. "What did you say?"

"I asked if you were aware that Prince Styxx was being held by the Atlantean queen."

Archon snorted derisively. "Have you been under a rock? He's been the main attraction for months now."

"Not under a rock. Searching for Apollymi's son." Actually, she'd done everything she could to stay away from Atlantis and to not think of all the times she'd tried to kill Styxx as he invaded her homeland. Thank her father's powers for keeping her from making the biggest mistake of her life.

Archon finally looked up with his full attention. "Unfortunately, he's not nearly as feisty as he was when he was first brought here, but if you want to take a turn with him, he's still good for a few laughs."

Her stomach cramped at those harsh words. "What all has been done to him?"

Archon sat back as he thought about it. "Apollo had been passing him around on Olympus until Athena found out and stopped it. Then he brought him here for our amusement."

Those words hit her like a blow. "What type of amusement?"

"What do you think we did to him? He led an army into our nation and slaughtered our citizens and mortal family members. We couldn't let that go unpunished. Once we got bored with him, we threw him to the queen as Apollo's gift and she had him put in the arena for fights and other highly creative events so that her people and soldiers could take out their own grievances against him and the other Greeks."

"And no one in Didymos has noticed his absence?"

"No. Apollo took care of it."

Did she even want to know more than what Frick and Frack had already told her? "Care of it. How?"

Archon shrugged. "Don't know. Don't care. So why the interrogation over him?"

"I didn't know he was here until today."

"Ah. Well, if you get a chance, you might want to attend the fight this afternoon. Even as wrecked as he is, he manages to hold off his attackers until they spring a trap on him, or unleash the dogs or cats to bring him down. It's much more entertaining to watch when you know he can't win no matter what he does. Still he tries to win. It's so strange, really. The humans and Apollites also take wagers to see how long he'll last. Then at the end, they let the crowd determine the punishment for his crimes."

"Punish him how?"

"He's either sentenced to be beaten or ceremonially raped for the crowd's entertainment."

Her breath left her lungs. Hard. It took everything she had not to attack Archon. "And you find this acceptable for the man who refused to harm our innocent people? One who used his own troops to make sure Atlanteans weren't raped while the Greeks fought here?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Our people are the ones who decide his punishments. Not me. I'm not about to interfere with their entertainment after the terror he put them through."

"And how long do you think this punishment should last?"

"Talk to his owner. Again, I'm not interfering for a piece of Greek shit that doesn't matter to me."

But he matters to me....

Bethany counted to ten and forced herself to leave before she gave in to the urge to blast Archon where he sat.

Instead, she went to Didymos next to see what had happened during her year of extreme stupidity. How was it possible that Styxx could be gone from home for a year and no one would notice?

Yes, she was violating all kinds of pacts, treaties, and bylaws, but she didn't care at this point. She wanted too much blood....

Bethany started for the palace then stopped herself. Galen would be the one who would have missed him. Surely if anyone knew Styxx was gone, it would be his sole friend and mentor. So she went to the barracks where she found the old man in his quarters.

Assuming the guise of a Didymosian soldier, she entered. "Where's Prince Styxx?"

Galen sighed wearily. "I don't know. I haven't seen him in a very long time."

She used her powers to compel him to speak what was on his mind. "Are you all right, Master Galen?"

"Not really, but it's not me I'm worried about. The prince hasn't been right since his woman left him."

"How so?"

Galen sighed heavily. "I know war often changes people, and losing someone you love ... but he's just not the same boy I trained. It's almost like he's possessed by something. Like a demon has control of his body. But don't breathe a word of that. I don't want to see him returned to the Dionysion. Not after what they did to him the last time."

In that moment, she knew exactly what Apollo had done. She just didn't know why. Her anger mounting, she left Galen and went to the palace where she found "Styxx" laughing with a member of the senate. "He" felt her foreign god powers immediately and turned all attention toward her.

Bethany crooked a finger.

The "prince" excused himself to join her in the hallway. As soon as they were out of sight of the others, Bethany turned on Poena-the Greek spirit of retribution-and slammed the Olympian daemone against the wall. "Why are you masquerading as the prince?"

Poena shrugged. "Apollo told me to while the prince is being punished."

"For?"

"Hubris."

Hubris? Really? To the Greek gods, that was the greatest sin any mortal could commit, and she couldn't imagine Styxx, as humble as he was, ever thinking himself a god or above one. "Against?"

"My assumption would be Apollo since he's the one who called me in for it."

With every spoken word, Bethany's rage tripled. "And where would Apollo be?"

Poena shrugged.

Bethany grabbed her by the throat and shoved her into the wall again. "Fetch him to me. I'll be in his temple here in town. And if you value your existence, you will not pretend to be Styxx another day."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh bitch, please, give me one. Right now, I'm ready to call down every Olympian and Titan, and open a major can of Atgyptian whoop-ass on the whole lot of you. Or better yet, how do you think the Greek people would react if I told them how their gods blithely allowed one of their beloved heroes to be wrongfully punished for a full year by their enemies? How many converts do you think I'd get to our pantheon?"

"You wouldn't dare."

"Really, don't push me right now. Fetch your master to me and be quick about it." Bethany flashed herself straight into Apollo's temple ... which could be construed as an act of war.

A war she was aching to start, even if she had to fight it single-handedly.

Disgusted, she walked around the open area and sneered at the altar where people had made offerings to Apollo for a benevolence the worthless prick totally lacked.

"What are you doing here?"

Bethany turned around to face him. "I am so glad you didn't keep me waiting."

Apollo glared at her. "You should have met me in Atlantis. Not here."

"If I were sorry, I'd apologize. As it is, this is merely a courtesy visit to let you know that I've freed Styxx from your hellhole."

Apollo shook his head. "You can't do that. He's not yours."

"My understanding is that you gave him away."

"I didn't give him to you."

"You cast him to my brethren to torment," she reminded him. "I am allowed to take him after that."

"Not unless you want a war."

"Really?" She raked Apollo with a sneer. "You'd start a war over a mere mortal?"

"Why not? I've started them for a lot less. Besides, he hasn't learned his lesson."

"And what lesson is that?"