Though my uncle was three years younger than my father, one would never guess to look at them. They could easily pass as twins. You'll never again have to worry about him. Did they intend to kill Acheron?
I'd never heard such a harsh tone from him before. It made my blood run cold. He grabbed Acheron and shoved him toward my uncle. Acheron looked panicked. He reached for me, but my uncle took him roughly by his arm and jerked him away. My father pulled me back and held me.
Atlantis was a long way from here. Too far, and up until a very short time ago, we'd been at war with them. I'd heard nothing but terrible things about that place and everyone who lived there. I looked up at my father, sobbing. My father might be a powerful king, but he was wrong.
I knew the fear inside Acheron's heart. And I knew the fear of my own. Would I ever see my brother again? Nine years and not a day had gone by without my wondering what he was doing. How he was being treated.
Whenever Estes visited, I always took him aside and asked about Acheron. I cherish him as an addition to my household. He has everything he requires. I shall be glad to tell him that you asked after his welfare. I'd petitioned father repeatedly to send for Acheron. To at least bring him home for a holiday. As a prince, he should never have been sent away. Yet there he stayed in a country that was constantly on the brink of war with ours.
Even though Estes was an ambassador, it didn't change the fact that if we went to war, Acheron, as a Greek Prince, would be killed. And Father refused every request I made. I'd been writing to Acheron for years and normally he wrote back religiously. His letters were always brief with only a handful of details, but even so I cherished every one. So when a letter had come to me a few weeks ago, I'd thought nothing unusual about it. Not until I read it. Greetings most esteemed and exalted Princess Ryssa.
Forgive me for my forwardness. Forgive me my impertinence. I found one of your letters written to Acheron and have, at great peril to myself, decided to write to you. I cannot tell you what harms befall him, but if you truly love your brother as you say you do, then I would ask you to come and see him. I'd told no one about the letter. It hadn't even been signed. For all I knew it was a hoax. Yet I couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't, that Acheron needed me.
For days I debated about going until I could stand it no more. Taking my personal guard Boraxis with me for protection, I snuck out of the palace and told my maids to tell my Father I was visiting my aunt in Athens. Boraxis thought I was a great fool for traveling all the way to Atlantis for a letter that the author hadn't even signed, but I didn't care. If Acheron needed me, then I would be there. However that courage faltered days later as I found myself outside my uncle's home in the capital city of Atlantis.
The large gleaming red building was even more intimidating than our palace at Didymos. It was as if it had been designed for no other purpose than to inspire fear and awe. Of course, as our ambassador, it would benefit Estes to impress our enemies so.
Far more advanced than my Greek homeland, the island kingdom of Atlantis glistened and glowed. There was more activity from the people around me than I'd ever seen before. It was truly a bustling metropolis. Swallowing the fear I felt, I looked at Boraxis. Taller than most men, with coarse black hair he wore braided down his back, he was large and burly.
And he was loyal to me to a fault, even though he was a servant. He'd been protecting me since I was a child and I knew I could rely on him. He would never allow me to be harmed. Reminding myself of that, I walked up the marble stairs, toward the golden entrance. A servant opened the door even before I reached it. I found it odd that the servant didn't ask me for my name or business with my brother.
At home, no one was allowed near any of the royal family without a thorough screening. To admit someone unknown into our private residence was a crime punishable by death.
Yet this man thought nothing of leading us through Uncle's home. Once we reached another hall, the older man in front of me turned back to look at Boraxis. There was worry in his deep brown eyes.
Wait here and I'll return quickly. So I left him there and continued down the hallway. And as we walked, what struck me most about my uncle's home was how eerily silent it was. Not even a whisper could be heard. No one laughed. No one spoke. Only our footsteps echoed down the long, dark corridor. Black marble stretched as far as I could see, reflecting our images back at us as we made our way through the opulence of carved naked statuary and exotic plants and flowers.
The servant led me to a room on the far side of the house and opened the door. I stepped inside and hesitated as I realized it was Acheron's bedroom. How very strange for him to admit me here without knowing I was Acheron's sister. Then again, perhaps he did. That would explain much. Aye, that must be it. He must have realized I looked a great deal like my brothers.
Except for Acheron's divine silver eyes, we had identical coloring. Relaxing, I glanced about. It was an exceptionally large room with an oversized hearth. There were two settees before the stone hearth with an odd, pole structure between them. It reminded me of the punishment block, but that made no sense. Perhaps it was something unique to Atlantis. I'd heard all my life that the people here had bizarre customs.
The bed itself was rather small for a room this size, with four tall posts intricately carved into the design of a bird. On each post, the bird's head was turned upside down so that the beaks curled outward like hooks to hold bed curtains back, yet there were no bed curtains there. Like the foyer leading to the room, the walls were a shiny black marble that reflected my image back to me perfectly. And as I looked about, I realized there were no windows in this room at all.
Nor was there a balcony. Come out and join Sherri Acheron teleported himself into the main room where the statue of Athena stood, covered in gold. Because of the lecture that was going to start in a few minutes in another part of the Parthenon, the statue area had been closed off. He should probably obey the rules, but why? It was one of the few benefits he had from being a god. Casts of the original Elgin marbles stood at stations that lined the walls on both sides.
It was strangely comforting to him. And any time he was in Nashville, he made sure to stop in and visit. It looked nothing like her. Raven haired and pale, Athena was as frail in appearance as she was striking. But those looks were definitely deceiving. As a war goddess, Athena could pack a punch as hefty as any man. He rolled his eyes. She came out of the statue to stand in front of him at her natural height.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she pouted. Ash let out a slow, impatient breath. He scoffed as he walked past her to look at the casts against the wall. Take it from someone with intimate knowledge of the two. Which was exactly why he did it. Again, he moved away from his least favorite stalker. I was curious so here I am. For the first time in his existence he had people who looked at him with respect and who allowed him dignity.
No one would ever expose him again. Acheron shook his head. How could humanity be so strangely astute and at the same time dense? Their perceptions swung from being unerringly accurate to downright ridiculous.
Soteria looked up at the docent who was watching her with a perplexed expression. I just wanted to know if you needed some water for your presentation? Her gut knotted at those words. Good crowd. She hated crowds and public speaking. The woman turned and left. What an oxymoron for a woman who hated crowds. Her throat tight, she went to spy on the room. As she started to withdraw back into the shadows, the door opened and in walked a man who took her breath away.
Unbelievably tall, he strode into the room as if he owned it. And every woman in the room turned to stare at him. It was like he was a magnet for the eyes.
Dressed in a long black distressed coat, he had a dark grey hoodie on underneath that was opened to show a Misfits t-shirt.
His black pants were tucked into a pair of dark cherry red Doc Martens boots with skull and crossbone buckles going up each side. Ignoring the women who ogled him, he shrugged a black leather backpack off his broad shoulder and set it down on the floor by an aisle seat before he sat down. The leather of it was as worn as his coat and the backpack was marred with a white anarchy symbol and one of a sun pierced by three lightning bolts.
He looked so incredibly masculine sitting there like that. With his hands covered by black fingerless gloves, he pushed the sleeves of his coat up on his forearms, then leaned back in the chair, completely at ease. She caught a glimpse of a red and black dragon tattoo on his left arm.
He also had a small silver stud pierced through his right nostril, as well as a tiny silver hoop in his left ear. He took a deep breath and hung one arm over the back of the chair. Dang, the man moved like water. Slow, graceful and yet he gave them impression that at any minute he could explode into action to take down anyone who threatened him. I was having a bit of stage fright. Crowds terrified her and unlike the Goth man outside, she hated to stand out.
Until a lone woman who refuses to be intimidated by him threatens his very existence. Now his survival—and ours—hinges on hers, and old enemies reawaken and unite to kill them both. War has never been more deadly Advertising Download Read Online. Info about the book Author: Sherrilyn Kenyon. Series: Unknown. Languge: English. Users who have this book I have the Ebook I have the Paperbook. Users who want this book I want the Ebook I want the Paperbook.
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