Acheron

"Acheron," I said softly, reaching to shake him awake.

 

I paused as I saw the myriad of scrapes and bruises that marred his perfect skin. There were places where entire handprints were still visible from his abuse. Gods, the horror he must have faced alone in the belly of the ship.

 

My stomach churned at the sight of my failure to protect him. How could I be so worthless? I pulled a blanket over him before I shook him very gently and promised myself that he wouldn't be hurt like this again.

 

He came awake as if terrified.

 

"All's well," I assured him.

 

He looked about as if not quite sure he should believe me.

 

"Boraxis?" I called.

 

He entered with the smith behind him. As soon as Acheron saw the tools in the smith's hands, he panicked and tried to run.

 

"Stop him."

 

Boraxis did. He grabbed him and held Acheron down on the floor while the smith brought a large pair of clips forward to snip through the bands.

 

Acheron screamed and fought as if we were cutting off his limbs.

 

"Please, stop!" he begged hoarsely. "Please!"

 

His pleas tore through me, but this was what must be done. I didn't want anyone else to mistake him for a slave. "It's all right, Acheron. You're free."

 

Still he fought until the last band had been removed. Then he lay without moving, his eyes dazed.

 

"Keep the gold," I told the smith, who then thanked me and left.

 

I looked at Boraxis, stunned by Acheron's actions. "Why would he not want them removed?"

 

"You took his registration shield. If a slaver finds him now, he doesn't have to be returned to his owner. Anyone can claim him."

 

I growled at words I didn't want to hear. "He's not a slave."

 

"He's branded as such on his hand, Princess. If anyone sees that mark, they'll know he's not freeborn."

 

I frowned. "What brand?"

 

Boraxis held Acheron's right hand up to show me a jagged brand in his palm that looked like an X through a pyramid. How odd that I hadn't noticed it before. But it made no difference to me.

 

"No one will know."

 

"The smith knows, Highness. For that reason, I would suggest we leave here as quickly as possible and reach your father's kingdom before we're stopped again."

 

My jaw slackened. "You're not serious?"

 

By his face, I could tell that he was. "Please, Highness. Listen to me in this. The last thing I want is to see either one of you harmed. We need to leave."

 

"Why didn't you tell me about the brand before the smith removed his bands?"

 

"Highness, I'm a freed slave. It's not in my nature to question my betters. I love and serve you and should the gods decree, I'd give my life for yours."

 

He was right. I'd seen my father and Styxx beat many a servant for hesitating after they'd given the servant an order.

 

Nodding, I went to Acheron who still hadn't moved. "Come, Acheron, we must hurry."

 

He looked at me then with his eyes filled with despair. "Idikos will punish me harshly for this. Have you any idea what you've done?"

 

"Estes is not going to hurt you ever again. I'm your sister and my word to you, you are safe."

 

He shook his head in denial. "He will find me. He always does."

 

"How many times have you escaped?"

 

"Enough to know it's not worth it."

 

"This time, it will be." At least that's what I was hoping. And by all the gods, I intended to make it so. No one deserved to live in fear. No one deserved to be mocked and abused. Especially not a boy who had been born a prince.

 

But even as I promised myself I'd protect him, a part of me wondered if I could.

 

Like Acheron and Boraxis, I, too, was prisoner to my station. And even against my will, my wings were often clipped.

 

 

 

 

 

November 15, 9532 BC

 

 

It had been a week since we'd left Atlantis. A week I'd traveled with my brother who didn't know laughter or smiles. Or even how to form an opinion of his own. Whenever I asked, his response was always the same. "Your will is my will, Idika."

 

It was enough to make me scream.

 

The last part of our trip was again by ship, but this time we purchased a private vessel to take us to the island where our father ruled as king. I didn't want to take any more chances with Acheron or his safety. And the longer I was with him, the more I understood. He held an unnatural sexual magnetism.

 

Everyone who saw him wanted to touch him. To possess him. It was why he kept himself completely covered whenever we ventured into public. Why he cringed whenever someone neared him. Not even I was fully immune to whatever that unholy draw was and it sickened me that I could feel that way toward my own brother. The worst part was, I could tell when he knew my thoughts. He would tense as if bracing himself for my attack.

 

But I would never hurt him or touch him in such a manner. Still, he didn't trust me and honestly I couldn't blame him for it given his experiences.

 

He said Estes protected him. I knew the truth. There was no protection in what our uncle did, he only controlled how many people attacked Acheron at once.

 

May the gods punish Estes for it.

 

Sherrilyn Kenyon's books