Styxx’s hand trembled as he pulled the covers back to expose the blood that was still on her gown from where Apollymi had assaulted her. Throwing his head back, he roared in anger and pain, then gathered her body into his arms so that he could hold her.
“Beth?” he breathed against her cheek as he cradled her head to his shoulder. “Please come back to me. Please. I need you so.…” Tears fell down his cheeks.
Urian choked as he felt for his friend’s agony. Unable to bear it, he looked away. In his mind, he saw himself the night he’d lost Phoebe. Xyn. He heard his own anguished screams that still hadn’t stopped the nights his heart had shattered.
Davyn reached out and pulled him into his arms. Urian tried his best to stand strong. As he always did.
But the truth was, he was never that strong. He’d never been. True love didn’t conquer anything. All it did was destroy.
“I’ve got you, brother,” Davyn whispered in his ear as he silently wept, and Acheron joined them in the room to go to Styxx.
Urian pulled away from Davyn just as Styxx let go of Bethany and bellowed in fury. He turned on Acheron with a wide punch. Acheron blocked it and yanked him into his arms. Styxx tried to fight, but Acheron held him close against him in an iron grip.
“It’s all right, Styxx. I know it hurts.”
But Acheron didn’t know. Even Urian knew that. The Dark-Hunter had no idea of the pain he and Styxx shared. His children were all alive and well. Tory was healthy.…
No one was going to kill her baby and leave her frozen and alone like this.
Coated in her own blood.
Urian hoped that Acheron never knew the darkness that lived inside them. Because the Stygian madness that festered there was a devouring agony unlike anything imaginable. Grief for his wife was a hunger that fed on all happiness. It devoured smiles and stole pieces of his soul every single day until he feared he would never see light again.
Like Styxx, Urian had been so lost for so long now that though he walked in daylight, he didn’t see it. Nor did he feel any form of warmth in the vast winter lands that swallowed him whole. The sun couldn’t chase away the lingering shadows of pain and remorse. The staggering darkness of what could have been.
That profound sense of loss that came the moment you woke up and knew for certain that all your hopes and dreams for tomorrow had become your yesterday.
That was the hell they called home.
And Acheron knew nothing of it.
Lucky bastard.
“I fucking hate you,” Styxx growled in Acheron’s ear.
“I know, brother … I know.” And still Acheron held him the way Urian used to hold on to his own twin. Back in the days when they’d been innocent boys, before the world had crashed down on them and made them bitter men, scarred by war and tragedy. Separated by death and heartache. “I wish more than anything that I could take it all back. Everything,” Acheron breathed. “That I’d listened to and followed the advice I gave others. I hurt you and I abandoned you and it was wrong. I was wrong and I am so incredibly sorry.”
Their sadness choked Urian as he watched them. He felt for both men who’d been divided by hatred and a world that wouldn’t let them live in peace.
Styxx glared at his twin. “Why can’t I just hate you?”
Acheron’s arms tightened around him. “Because you’re a better man than I am. You always were.” He pulled back and placed his forehead to Styxx’s, then gently fisted his hand in the hair at the nape of Styxx’s neck. “I will never turn my back on you again, brother. I—”
Styxx covered his mouth with his hand, cutting off his words. “Don’t make a promise you might not keep.”
It would kill him if he did. That was the curse of the Atlantean gods.
He wiped at the tears on Acheron’s face. “Gah, we look like two old women.” Styxx balled his fists in Acheron’s hair, which no longer fell down his back. “But at least you finally got a decent haircut.”
Acheron laughed.
Urian wiped at his own eyes as he remembered his own shock when Ash and Tory had cut their long hair and donated it to charity in honor of Sebastos’s first birthday.
With a ragged breath, Acheron released him. “You’ve no idea how much I missed you when Estes took me away, Styxx. I couldn’t stand it.”
Styxx snorted. “I do know your pain. I have not only my memories, but yours, too.”
Acheron gave him a fierce, stern look. “And now I have yours.” Tears welled in his eyes again. “Boy, don’t I feel stupid. Honestly, I don’t know how you could ever talk to me again. And if it makes you feel better, Styxx, I would have chosen her over me, too. At least she’s prettier to look at.”
Urian took Davyn’s hand as he felt his brother’s pain reaching out toward him. They all understood that misery. Love was too rare a gift to ever squander. If you were lucky enough to find the one person strong enough to stand by your side, you held on to them with everything you had and you never let them go.
Because if you lost them, it was an unimaginable hell that cut through you every day of your life.
Acheron gave him a grim smile. “You weren’t wrong to protect her. And we will get her back for you. I swear it.”
Urian choked on his own grief as he felt Davyn’s hand trembling in his. They both would sell their souls to have Paris and Phoebe or Xyn back. Just for one heartbeat.
Damn it, why hadn’t he cherished them more when he had them? The only regret Urian had was not spending more time in their arms. He should never have left them. Styxx was right. You climbed into the chariot, hell or high water, and you stayed by their side, consequences be damned.
Styxx wiped at his eyes. “Just promise me one thing. If this doesn’t work, you’ll finally kill me.”
Urian flinched at those words. Damn me, if I don’t understand that. He’d made the same request. And he hated every day he lived without the women he loved. It wasn’t fair to be here when they weren’t. They were the better half. How unkind was fate to spare the animal that was him and to take the beauty of their souls in his place? What kind of justice was that? How could that be considered right?
What the fuck was wrong with the balance of the universe that it would do such a thing to humanity? He was the one who should have been killed. Phoebe had never harmed a soul. And Xyn … she was a guardian. A lady of such beauty and grace.
He was a monster who should have been put down like a rabid dog.
Yet here he lived on for eternity while they were gone.
It wasn’t right and every time he thought about it, he wanted to rip the throats from the very gods themselves for their cruelty. For their lack of regard for humanity and leaving him behind because obviously they didn’t give a shit about what was right and what was fair.
Life was selfish and it was cold. Just like his barren soul. Why did life have to be like this? Why did the gods show you a glimpse of heaven only to rip it from your grasp the moment you dared to reach for it?
There was no need of an eternal hell. Life was punishment enough. No one deserved it.
Especially not the innocent babes born to this world who came in naked and unprepared for its brutality.
“Is that really what you want?”
Urian snorted at Acheron’s question that said it all about his naivete. Ash had never really loved and lost or he’d know that answer. No one wanted to live after having been gutted.
Time didn’t heal those wounds.
It didn’t cover the scars. The best you could hope for were momentary lapses in pain where it didn’t sting quite as bad. And if you were really lucky, those lapses might grow a bit longer in between.
That was it.
Styxx took Bethany’s hand into his and nodded as he spun her wedding ring around on her finger. “She was so happy when I put this on her hand. I can still see her smiling.…” He flinched in agony. “Gods, Beth, why didn’t I go with you when you left? I should have climbed on that chariot and never left your side.”
Urian clenched his eyes shut as Styxx repeated the words he’d heard him say so many times.