Banging his head against the stone, Styxx wished himself dead. Why hadn't his mother killed him last year? Why?
But no matter how hard he prayed, the gods refused to take mercy on him. Prince or not, his sole purpose in this life was to suffer and to bleed.
And he was sick of it.
Please, gods ... please someone help me!
June 22, 9535 BC
"Apollo?" Dionysus popped into his brother's open golden temple on Olympus to stand in front of him. "I know how much you love things of great beauty so I must show you this." He flashed out of the room.
Sighing in deep aggravation, Apollo set aside the lyre he'd been strumming when his half brother Dionysus had decided to annoy him. "Where are you, Dion? I have no intention of playing this game."
With short dark brown hair, Dionysus returned to stand in front of him. "Don't take that tone with me, brother. Trust me. You want to see what I have in my Didymosian temple."
This time, Apollo followed, and drew up short as he saw the beautiful young man someone had thoughtfully chained to the wall. Even with his hair sheared off, the boy had features that appeared to have been chiseled by the gods themselves. Never had he seen such handsomeness in the mortal realm.
"Is he part god?"
Dionysus shook his head. "Purely human. But look at those amazing eyes. Couldn't you stare at them forever?"
Truly. They were a perfect, riveting blue. The same intense blue of the Aegean that Apollo had always favored.
The young man's condition, however, was deplorable. "Why is he tied and bleeding?"
Dionysus took a deep drink of his wine then passed the kylix over to Apollo. "The idiots think I've possessed him."
"Have you?"
"No, but I was thinking you might want to." Dionysus gave him a lecherous grin.
Smiling, Apollo swallowed his drink before he returned the cup and approached the human male. It was quite true that he was attracted to any beautiful human, male or female. They each had their advantages and fun.
And even scarred by the priests, this one was still well beyond the beauty of any Apollo had seen in a long time.
Dionysus moved to stand next to him. "I know he's still a bit young, but-"
"He's the age of Ganymede." Like this one, Ganymede had been born a human mortal. A prince of Troy. His flawless beauty had attracted Zeus, who'd brought him to Olympus to serve as their cupbearer ... among other things. Yet Ganymede was nowhere near as handsome as this boy. Even bleeding and in need of a bath, he made Apollo's mouth water for a taste of that golden skin. And those lips ... Full and perfect, they'd been made for kissing.
Dionysus moved to the opposite side of the boy. "He's the prince and heir to Didymos. I figured if nothing else, we could tag him for later use."
Apollo snorted. "Tag him? Dear brother, I want to nail him."
Dionysus slid his gaze down the prince's body. "He does have the nicest ass you'll ever see, and the priests were kind enough to secure his important parts from harm." He drained his kylix. "And you'll be happy to know he's hung like a god.... Should I leave you two alone?"
"Unless you wish to watch."
Dionysus arched a curious brow. "Will you share?"
* * *
Styxx scowled as the air around him stirred. One second he was alone. In the next, there were two men in the room with him. Tall and dark-haired, they were clean-shaven and dressed as noblemen and not priests.
"Do you know who we are, prince?" the one on his right asked.
Unable to speak past his raw and sore throat, Styxx shook his head.
"You should. You've been summoning us for quite some time now."