"How do you like that, Highness? Tell me how much you crave my cock.... Beg me for it like the little bitch you are."
Styxx flinched as he tried to force it all away and focus. But it was impossible. He wanted to do something other than stand here and relive a horror that never should have happened to either of them.
Their father grabbed Acheron roughly by his arm and pulled him from the bed.
Acheron covered his hand with his own and tsked at him. "It's a thousand gold pieces an hour if you want to bruise me."
Fifteen hundred to make him bleed ... Styxx flinched as he called Estes's price list.
The king backhanded Acheron so hard, he fell to the floor and sprawled naked onto his back.
Styxx gasped as pain exploded in his own skull. It was so harsh a blow that for a few seconds, he couldn't see straight.
Laughing, Acheron licked the blood from his lips before he wiped it away on the back of his branded hand. "It's fifteen hundred to make me bleed."
Styxx backed away as Acheron validated his earlier memory.
His father curled his lips. "You're disgusting."
Styxx's stomach heaved. That was what his father would think of him, too, if he ever learned that he'd worn the same bracelets as Acheron. He saw himself bleeding on the floor, not his brother. This was exactly what would happen to him if his father ever found out he'd been sold.
If he ever saw the brand Styxx carried next to his cock.
And if he ever learned Styxx had murdered his uncle ...
His father would gut him himself. Just as his mother had done him.
With a wry grin, Acheron rolled to his side and pushed himself up from the floor. "Careful, Father, you might actually hurt my feelings." He walked around their father like a proud, stalking lion, looking him up and down. "Oh wait, I forgot. Whores don't have feelings. We have no dignity for you to offend."
"I am not your father."
Styxx winced at the severity of his father's condemnation against his twin brother and he remembered how tortured and conflicted his father had been when he cut Styxx's arm open.
"Yes, I know the story well. It was beaten into me years ago. You're not my father and Estes isn't my uncle. It saves his reputation if everyone thinks I'm some poor waif he found on the streets and gave shelter to. It's fine to sell a homeless beggar, a worthless bastard. But the aristocracy frowns on those who sell their blood relatives."
How Styxx wished that was true.
Their father backhanded him again.
Styxx wiped away the blood on his face before anyone saw it. But his father and Ryssa were too intent on Acheron to pay his condition any heed. Thank the gods for that one small mercy.
Acheron laughed, unfazed by the fact that his nose was now bleeding, along with his lips. "If you really want to hurt me, I'll ring for the whips. But if you continue to strike my face, you'll make Estes unbelievably angry. He doesn't like for anyone to mar my beauty."
"Estes is dead!" their father roared.
Styxx cringed at the unadulterated rage in those words.
Acheron froze in place then blinked as if he couldn't believe what he'd heard. "Estes is dead?" he repeated hollowly.
The king sneered at him. "Yes. Were that it were you in his place."
Acheron took a deep breath and the relief in his eyes was tangible. His thoughts rang in Styxx's head. It's over. It's finally over. The twisted bastard's dead and I'm free....
For the first time, Acheron met his gaze. Styxx saw his own shame, self-loathing, and absolute relief mirrored in those swirling silver eyes that were set in an identical face.
And while they were free of Estes's future acts, nothing would ever erase those done to them in the past.
I know, brother. And I'm so sorry.