His father sank his fingers into Styxx's hair. His hand was so large that he was able to cradle the whole of Styxx's head in his massive palm.
Styxx's eyes flew open as he waited for the pain he was sure would follow.
Yet his father began running his hand through Styxx's blond curls, toying with them, brushing them back from his face. Maybe he wasn't angry with him, after all. Hoping for the best, he met his father's gaze in the firelight, but didn't dare speak a word. There was rare tenderness in his father's gaze, mixed with concern.
"You remind me much of Estes when he was a boy. Things you say and do ... It makes me think of our childhood together and how much I miss it. Even this was his room back then...." His father brushed his thumb over Styxx's brow and smiled at the memories. Suddenly, the smell of alcohol on the king's breath hit him hard. His father was terribly drunk.
Biting his lip, Styxx prayed that his father wouldn't fly into one of the legendary rages that his mother had whenever she fell too deeply into her cups.
"He was my only friend. He still is. You've no idea what it's like to have a brother like him. One you can trust who would never do anything to betray you."
His father was wrong about that. Acheron was the best friend anyone could ask for. Not even Estes could equal him.
Leaning closer, his father squinted at him while he held his chin in his hand. He turned Styxx's head so that he could study his face from different angles. "You look like us ... but are you really my son?"
"Father-"
"Don't speak to me!"
Styxx clamped his jaw shut as another wave of terror washed over him. What would his father do?
His father pulled the blanket back so that he could rudely inspect every inch of Styxx's entire body. "You look so human...."
Styxx wanted to scream as pain racked him hard whenever his father touched the areas of his small body bruised by Acheron's beating. But he didn't dare let his father know he was hurting when there was no obvious reason for it.
His father rolled him onto his back. Styxx's jaw quivered as tears filled his eyes. There'd been a good reason why he'd been lying on his stomach. His breathing labored, he watched as his father pulled the knife from his belt.
Is he going to kill me?
"But are you human? I have to know." Before Styxx could move or react, his father seized his forearm in a merciless grip then he violently slashed it open. Unable to hold back, Styxx cried out as blood covered his arm and soaked his sheets.
"Sweet Hera," his father breathed. "What have I done?" He clutched at Styxx's wounded arm, trying to stanch the blood flow. "I'm so sorry, Styxx. Forgive me, child."
His hands shaking, his father wrapped Styxx's arm with cloth he tore from Styxx's sheets then he pulled him into his arms and rocked him while Styxx silently sobbed. "Shh, little one. It's all right. It's all right...."
But it wasn't and Styxx knew it. From the moment of his birth, his father had questioned his parentage. If not in words, then by the unguarded glares Styxx would see whenever they were alone.
"It's not your fault, child. It's that demon bastard. He's to blame for all of this. He's the one who makes me doubt you. Every time I see his face ... It fills me with such violence."
Not just Acheron's face. It was his face, too.
His father cupped his head in his large hand and kissed his brow then his cheek. "You are my baby boy. The heir I prayed and sacrificed to the gods for. I know you are. I know it." Tears filled his eyes as he cast a suspicious glare at Styxx. "Aren't you?"
How could he answer a question when he wasn't sure either? His father sensed the very thing he knew for a fact. That he wasn't right. He wasn't normal. While Acheron had the eyes of a god, Styxx was the one who felt phantom pains from wounds given to his brother. He was the one who heard stray thoughts of random people. Heard the voices of gods much louder than Acheron did. He sensed other people's emotions and intended actions, even when they tried to conceal them, and he knew the weather without fail.
But the worst were the merciless headaches that plagued him all the time.
Maybe I'm not human....
In all honesty, Acheron seemed to be far more normal than he did.
"Answer me!" his father growled. "Are you my son?"
There was only one answer to give. Right or wrong. "Y-y-yes."
His father placed Styxx's head under his chin and wept while he continued to rock him. He didn't let go again until well after dawn. Then, he laid Styxx down on his bed and tucked him into his bloodstained sheets as if nothing had happened. Kissing Styxx's brow, he gave his shoulder a light squeeze then left him alone.
Scared and hurt, Styxx stared at the makeshift bandage his father had wrapped and knotted around his forearm. His hand shaking, he peeled it back to see what he'd suspected ... he was already healing from the vicious wound. By the end of the day, it would be almost completely gone, with only a scar to mark its location.