Acheron scoffed. "I'm tired of being your pet, Artemis. I've nothing left inside to give you."
His anger ignited her own. "You are a human. You don't order me about."
Acheron sighed. She was right. Who was he, a worthless maggot, to say anything to her? Besides, he was in no condition to argue with anyone. "Forgive me, akra. I forgot my place."
She smiled and brushed a hand over his bald head. "That's the Acheron I know."
No, it wasn't. This was the Acheron who was bought and sold. The hollowed out shell who performed for the amusement of others, but who felt nothing inside. How pathetic that his heart meant so little to anyone, that she couldn't even recognize the fact that it was missing.
Releasing her hand, he lay still as she healed him. For once he tolerated the pain.
Once done, she sat back to look at her handiwork and then grimaced. "Oh, this baldness has to go. I like your hair too much."
It grew in perfectly and still Acheron didn't move.
In a tiff, Artemis folded her arms over her chest. "Can you not at least say thank you to me for healing you?"
Given the fact that she was the reason he was beaten so badly, the mere thought of thanking her stuck in his throat. But then he was used to such things as this. "Thank you, akra."
Like a child who was unaware she'd broken her favorite toy, she smiled in satisfaction. "We should hunt today."
Acheron didn't speak as she took him to her private forest and dressed him in red as if he was her doll and not a flesh and blood man. Her face was bright as she handed him a bow and quiver. He slung the quiver over his back without comment and followed her as she headed off in search of deer.
She chattered away about nothing in particular while he did as she asked, and tried his damnedest not to feel anything at all.
"You're being awfully quiet," she said once she realized he wasn't participating in her conversation.
"Forgive me, akra. What would you like me to say?"
"Whatever's on your mind."
"There's nothing on my mind."
She huffed at him. "Nothing? You have no thoughts whatsoever?"
He shook his head.
"How can this be?" She stuck her bottom lip out petulantly. "You're trying to punish me, aren't you?"
He kept all emotion out of his voice, especially the anger he bore her. "I would never seek to punish you, Goddess. It's not my place."
She grabbed him by his hair, making him grimace before she forced him to meet her gaze. "What is wrong with you?"
Acheron took a deep breath as he braced himself for what was to come. One thing he'd learned while living with his uncle, lust overrode anger. She might still beat him later, but if he pleased her enough the punishment wouldn't be as severe.
Stepping closer, he kissed her.
Sure enough, she loosened the grip in his hair and melted in his arms. Strange, he felt more like a whore in this moment than he'd ever felt before and he didn't understand why.
Perhaps because he shouldn't have to use his body to bargain with someone he'd given his heart to. Yet here he was, using his touch to lighten her anger . . . as always.
Disgusted with himself, he offered her his neck and died the death of a coward as she took it.
But what else could he do? It was either fuck or be beaten. Though to be honest, he could no longer tell which of the two was the most painful for him. One left scars on his body.
The other scarred his soul.
September 14, 9528 BC
Acheron sat on the railing of his balcony, drinking. He was mystified at how Artemis had managed to make him feel so unclean and yet as the days passed by he felt more and more like what his uncle had made him.
"Brother?"
He leaned his head back to see Ryssa approaching him. "Yes?"
"I'm sorry to bother you, but I'm in so much pain from the baby. Could you please do that thing you do that makes me feel better?"
He snorted at words that could so easily be misconstrued. Thank the gods his father hadn't heard it. "It's called a massage."
"Can you do it?"
"Sure." Like everything else, he'd been well schooled in every muscle of the human body and taught how to loosen and please it. Sliding off the railing, he had her sit down on the floor and lean forward so that he could ease the tension in her back.
"Mmm," she breathed. "That is the most magical thing you do."
Not really. He was just glad to be able to use it on someone who wasn't going to turn around and start humping him over it. "You're really tense."
"I can't get comfortable. I'm aching all over."
"Just breathe then. I'll get the knots out and you'll feel a lot better." He went down to the pressure point and dug his nail in.
Ryssa let out a satisfied moan. "How do you do that?"
"A lot of practice." And a lot of beatings anytime he'd messed up.
"I swear we should bronze your hands."
Most people felt that way, but for many other reasons.