Before he could protest again, his mother faded away.

Simi snuggled against him and laid her head against his shoulder. "I miss my mama, akri."

Guilt slammed into him at her whispered words as he held her close to him. But for him, her mother would still be alive to love her. "Where's your father, Simi?"

"He died before the Simi was born."

"Then I will be your father."

"Really?" she asked hopefully.

He nodded, smiling at her. "I swear to you that you'll never want for anything."

Her innocent smile warmed his heart. "Then the Simi has the best akri-papa in the world." She hugged him tightly. "Simi loves her akri." As soon as the words were spoken, she faded as his mother had done. But as she faded, his skin, just above his heart burned.

Hissing, Acheron jerked up his tunic to find a small colorful dragon emblazoned on his skin. He touched it gingerly, and heard Simi's laughter in his head. The tattoo inched its way up, toward his neck. Her motion on his skin tickled until she settled over his collarbone.

"Simi is a part of you now, Apostolos. While on your body, she won't be able to hear you unless you call for her. But she will be able to monitor your vital signs. Should she sense you're in danger, she will appear to you in demon form to protect you."

"But she's only a baby."

"Even as a baby, she's deadly. Never mistake that. The Charonte are by their very nature killers. She will be hungry and you'll have to feed her often. If you fail to, she'll eat whatever is near her . . . even you. Make sure she doesn't get overly hungry. And the last thing you should know is that her kind age very slowly. Roughly one year of a human's development equals a thousand years of theirs."

That did not sound good. "What are you saying?"

"The Simi you have is over three thousand years old."

Acheron gaped at the information. "Shouldn't she be with another demon who can train her?"

You are all she has in this world, m'gios. Take care of her. As you have said, you are her father now. You'll be the one to teach her everything she knows."

Acheron placed his hand over the tattoo on his shoulder. He was a father . . .

But how could he train and protect a demon daughter when he didn't even know how to use his own powers?

June 30, 9527 BC

Athens, Greece

Acheron was desperate to find food for Simi. He'd awakened to her this morning after she'd bitten into his hand. Luckily, he'd stopped her before she did anything other than break his skin.

"You're not supposed to bite your father, Simi," he'd told her kindly, but firmly.

"But the Simi's hungry and akri was lying there all still and yummy looking."

And he'd thought the worst that could happen was to look yummy to horny humans . . .

But now as they wandered through the streets of a once great city, he realized just how much damage his mother had done in the brief time she'd been released. The world he knew was gone. Roads and buildings had been leveled. People lay dead all over Greece . . .

Apollymia Katastrafia Megola.

Apollymi the Great Destroyer. While a small part of him was flattered by her love, the other part was horrified by what she'd done. So many lives gone. The entire world scattered into debris. All of Atlantis was now lost. Mankind had been thrown back into the Stone Age. All their technology and tools had been lost.

The survivors wailed in the streets that the gods had abandoned them when the truth was, they'd have been better off if they had. All of them were unfortunate victims of a war they didn't even know had been fought.

He gripped Simi's hand as they walked around, searching for a marketplace. In human form, she'd taken on an appearance very similar to his. They both had long black hair and while his eyes were the same swirling silver, hers were a light blue. She looked like any small girl out with her father.

"Hey, Simi. I have something for you to eat."

Acheron jerked around at the deep masculine voice that called out to them. There was a tall, dark-haired man whose beard was thick. His skin was dark like a Sumerian and yet he spoke flawless Greek. Acheron held Simi back to keep her from running to him. "Who are you?"

The man stepped around a fallen column to kneel before Simi. He set a basket down at her feet and uncovered loaves of bread, fish and cheese. "I know you're hungry, sweet. Dig in."

Simi let out a squeal of delight before she set on the food with a vengeance.

The man stood up and offered his arm to Acheron. "My name is Savitar."

Acheron frowned at the tattoo of a bird that marked his forearm before he shook it. "How do you know Simi?"

One corner of his mouth lifted. "I know lots of things, Acheron. And I've come to help you learn your powers and to understand your simi demon. She's too young still to be left to callous care and the last thing I want is to see either one of you hurt because of it."

"I would never hurt her."

"I know, but the Charonte have special needs you must understand. Otherwise she could die . . . as could you."

Acheron felt the brush of hackles rise and he wasn't sure why. There was something about this being that rubbed against his god-hood and made him wary. "Are you threatening me?"

Savitar laughed. "I never threaten. I just kill whatever annoys me. Stand down, Atlantean. I'm here as your friend."

Once Simi had devoured every crumb, Savitar picked her up in his arms to carry her while he walked through the crumbled streets. "She's impressive, isn't she?"

"My mother or Simi?"

Savitar laughed. "Both, but I was speaking of your mother."

Acheron looked around and sighed at the destruction his mother had wrought. "Yes, she is." And as they walked Acheron realized something. "I can't hear your thoughts."

"No, you can't. And you never will. You'll find that many of the higher beings of the universe will be silent to you. Some gods, demons, and other special creatures. We all have our secrets, but the comfort to you is that most won't be able to hear yours either."

That was comforting. "Can you hear them?"

"The answer you seek is no, but the truth is, I hear you, Acheron, and yes, I know all about your past."

He cursed at what he didn't want to hear. "What of the others? Will they know my past too?"

"Some will." Savitar shifted Simi in his arms, then paused to look at him. "I don't care about your past, Acheron. It's your future that matters to me. I want to make sure that you have one and that you comprehend how important you are to the balance of power."

Balance of power? "I don't understand."

"Apollo cursed his Apollites."

"And my mother killed them all."

Savitar shook his head. "Many died with Atlantis, but there are thousands of them who have spread over the Mediterranean and who live in many other countries now, including Apollo's own son, Strykerius. All of them have been cursed to die on their twenty-seventh birthday. All of them."

"Then how are they a problem? If they all die in a few years, they'll be extinct."

Savitar stroked Simi's head before he started walking again. "They're not going to die, Acheron. They will live and they will procreate many times over."

"How?"

Savitar sighed before he answered. "A goddess will lead them and show them how to prey on human souls to circumvent Apollo's curse."

Acheron was appalled. "I don't understand. Why would anyone do such a thing?"

"Because the universe is complicated and there's a delicate balance in all things that must be maintained."

"Yes, but if you know these people will die, can't you stop the goddess from teaching them?"

"I could. But it could unravel the very essence of the universe."

Frustration ran deep through Acheron. He didn't understand. Why would someone fail to help another if they had the power to?

Savitar picked up a random stone from the ground and held it in his hand. "Tell me what happens if I throw this with all my power."

Acheron frowned until he saw an image in his head. It was the stone traveling through the air . . . it sped until it hit a man in his shoulder, wounding him. No, not any man. A soldier. His arm now lame, the stone's wound forced him to become a beggar . . .

Eight score people would then die because the soldier could no longer protect them in battles that wouldn't even be fought for years to come. But out of those people who died . . .

"It goes on and on and on," Savitar said. "One tiny decision: Do I throw the rock or do I drop it? And a thousand lives are changed by one innocuous decision." He let the rock fall to the ground.

Now it was harmless again and history wrote itself forward the way it was supposed to.

Savitar smiled down at Simi who'd fallen asleep in his arms. "You and I are cursed to understand how the tiniest decision made by every being can go onward to affect the rest of the universe. I know what should happen . . . what needs to happen. And if I stop something as simple as a rock throw, it could cause catastrophic consequences. However, unlike you, I don't see the future until after I act. The moment I do something, I then see everything unfold from that point on. You are lucky. You will always see the future before you act."

"But I didn't see my sister's death."

"No. The Greek Fates, when they cursed you, blinded you to the fate of those closest to you. Anyone you care about will be your blind spot."

"That's not right."

"Well, kid, brace yourself. This one's even worse. You also will never be able to see your own future or the future of anyone who seriously impacts your future."

Acheron ground his teeth at the injustice. "Can you see it?"

"It's why I'm here."

"Then tell me what you see."

Savitar shook his head. "Just because you can, doesn't mean you should. If you knew what was ahead of you, you'd avoid doing the very things you must do in order to have it unfold properly. One small innocuous decision and your destiny will be altered forever."

"But you can see your future."

"Only after I've set it into motion and can't change it."

Acheron shook his head as he pondered which of them was the most cursed. The one who was blind or the one who saw it instantly and was powerless to stop it.

Savitar clapped him on the back. "I know how confusing it is for you to have all this power and knowledge and not know how to channel it. Or tap it."

Acheron nodded. "It is hard."

Savitar smiled. "That's why the first thing I want to teach you is fighting."

"Why fighting?"

Savitar laughed as they walked. "Because you're going to need it. There's a war coming, Acheron, and you have to be prepared for it."

"A war? What kind of war?"

Savitar refused to answer. Instead, he shook Simi awake. "Little one, I need you to return to your akri and stay on him while he fights. Don't worry though, it's only pretend fighting. No need for you to come off him to protect him."

Simi nodded sleepily before she obeyed. She drifted onto Acheron's arm.

"Move up, Simi," Savitar said to her. "Go to his neck where you won't be hit."

Acheron frowned at his orders. "Can she feel a blow when she's on my skin?"

"Yes, she can. And if she's stabbed while she's there and it wounds you, it will wound her too. Guard your demon, boy."

The next thing Acheron knew, they were alone on a beach. "Takeshi!" Savitar shouted.

Black smoke roiled out of the earth.

Acheron stepped back as the smoke cleared to reveal a man in armor the likes of which he'd never seen before. Blood red, it was made of shining metal. Wickedly carved blades curved up over his shoulders while a neck piece came up to cover the lower part of his face. All that could be seen were his eyes and the red scrollwork tattoo that was drawn across his forehead.

His black hair was tinged with red tips. His eyes slanted exotically like a feral cat and they were a deep, blood red. But the moment those eyes fastened on Savitar, they lightened with friendship. The metal around his neck folded down from his handsome face to show a man no more than a year or two older than Acheron.

"Savitar-san," he greeted with a crooked grin. "It's been a long time."

Savitar inclined his head to him. "And I'm calling in a favor."

With one hand resting on the hilt of his sword, Takeshi tsked as he looked about the beach. "Sav, you can't keep doing this. I'm running out of places to put the bodies."

Savitar laughed. "Nothing like that." He stepped back to allow the two of them to size each other up. "Takeshi, meet Acheron. Acheron this is Takeshi-sensei. Listen to him and he'll teach you to fight in ways you can't imagine."

Takeshi narrowed his gaze on Acheron. "You would have me train a new god?"

Savitar leaned in and whispered something to Takeshi that he couldn't hear.

Takeshi nodded. "As you wish, brother." Stepping toward Acheron, Takeshi smiled and knocked the staff out of Acheron's hands. He let out a long sigh of disappointment. "I have much to teach you. Come and learn the art of war from the one who invented it."

Cocky, Acheron went with him-after all, he was a god now, surely he could fight. At least that's what he thought until Takeshi pinned him to the ground with a move so fast, he hadn't even realized the man had gone into motion until Acheron was face down in the sand.

"Never take your eyes off your opponent," Takeshi said before he moved back and allowed Acheron to rise. "And never think you don't have to work for a victory. Even now, you could surprise me."

Acheron frowned.

Takeshi rolled his eyes. "Surprise me, Atlantean. Attack. This isn't a dance party."

Acheron went for him and again, he landed face down in the sand. "You know, this isn't building my confidence. In fact, I think I'm just going to lie here for a bit and take in some sun."

Takeshi laughed, then patted him on the back. "Get up, Acheron." He looked over to where Savitar was now sitting on a rock watching them. "He doesn't anger easily. This is good."

Acheron laughed bitterly. "Yes, I'm more of a simmer slowly until it boils over and ruins everything, kind of man."

Takeshi turned back to Acheron and handed him his staff. "Just remember, anger is always your enemy. You must keep your emotions in check. The moment you lose control of them, you lose the fight every time."

Acheron twirled the staff around and brought it into a defensive block.

Takeshi tsked at him. "Always be the attacker. A defender never wins."

"Defenders get their asses kicked," Savitar said. "Trust me. I've got crack impressions on every pair of shoes I own."

Takeshi arched a brow at Savitar. "Do you want to teach him?"

"Not really."

"Then shut up or grab a sword and come help."

The humor fled Savitar's face. "Is that a challenge?"

"It would be if I didn't know for a fact that you're too lazy to rise to one."

"Lazy? Mesoula?"

"Eqou," Takeshi taunted.

Savitar flashed from the rock, to stand before Takeshi with a sword the likes of which Acheron had never seen before. He brought it down across Takeshi's vambrace. The next thing he knew, the two of them were at war.

Takeshi scoffed. "Ah, you fight like a sissy demon."

"Sissy demon? Have you ever met a sissy demon?"

"I killed three this morning."

Savitar swung at his throat. The blade whistled through the air, narrowly missing the man's adam's apple.

Feeling neglected, but grateful he wasn't in the middle of this titanic brawl, Acheron went to sit on the rock Savitar had vacated.

Savitar shoved Takeshi back. "Your mother was a goatherder."

"It's an honorable profession."

"Yeah for a goat."

Takeshi swung around and kicked Savitar away. Savitar flipped over and came back with an upstroke that barely missed gutting him.

Takeshi shook his head. "Have you been drinking this morning? How did you miss me? I swear I've fought old women with better reflexes."

"The fact you fight old women tells me just how rusty you've become. What? Your ego needed the boost and they were the only ones you could find you could beat?"

"Savitar, Savitar, Savitar. At least I won. Wasn't it you who had to cry to the counsel to come save your ass from an attack of a four-year-old?"

Savitar gaped in feigned anger. "Four-year-old . . . tarranine demon. Don't forget the most important part. Those bastards are hatched full grown and it wasn't just one. It was a swarm of them."

"So you admit you had help?"

"Oh that's it, sensei. You're tasting sand . . ."

Acheron shook his head at their bantering. While they were being harsh to each other, there was a good-natured spirit that let him know they didn't mean a word of it. It was as if they were sparring with words the same way they were sparring with their swords.

Honestly, they amazed him. He'd never had a friend he could do that with. He envied them that.

Savitar twisted out of a nasty-looking headlock. "Hey, aren't we forgetting something?"

"Your dignity?"

Savitar rolled his eyes. "No, you have me confused with you again." He pointed to where Acheron sat. "Aren't you supposed to be training him?"

Takeshi let out a taunting breath. "So you admit my superiority by deflecting my attention to the neophyte . . ."

"I'm not admitting shit. I'm merely pointing out the fact that you and I know how to fight and he doesn't. Might be a good idea for him to learn."

"True." Takeshi put his sword across his shoulders where he held it with both hands and smiled at Acheron. "Are you ready to begin again?"

"Sure. My ego's had enough time to recover a modicum of dignity. Let's make sure we crush it again before I mistake myself for a god."

Takeshi laughed. "I like him, Savitar. He fits with us."

"That's why I called you." Savitar handed his sword to Acheron. "Good luck, kid."

"Thanks."

Acheron spent the rest of the day training with Takeshi who had to be the worst taskmaster ever born. He worked him until Acheron was sure he'd drop from sheer exhaustion. By the time the sun set and he was free to rest, his entire body ached.

Even so, he felt more confident in his skills than he'd ever felt before.

Savitar handed him his staff. "Go home to Katoteros and we'll begin again in the morning."

Still unsure why Savitar was helping him, he wished the older . . . being . . . good-night and returned home.

Acheron pulled up short as he saw Artemis waiting in the throne room for him. "What do you want?"

"I haven't seen you in days."

"And what a beautiful thing they have been."

She narrowed her gaze. "I told you that you'd have to feed from me."

Acheron looked at her coldly. "I think I'd rather be a sadistic monster . . . like you."

She curled her lip at him. "So that's it then. You're just going to be mean to me."

"Mean to you? Mean?" He repeated angrily. "Fuck you, Artemis!" His words were punctuated by a blast of wind so strong, it knocked her onto her ass on the floor. He stalked toward her and saw the fear in her eyes. There was a time when that fear would have ignited guilt and compassion within him. Today it just pissed him off. "I was butchered on the floor by your brother while you watched it happen. Then, when I was finally happy someplace, gods forbid, you tricked me into drinking your blood to bind me to you. And you think I'm mean? Bitch, please, you haven't seen mean yet."

She covered her ears with her hands and cringed on the floor.

That actually succeeded in turning his anger away from her to him since he had a twinge of pity for her and he hated himself for it. She didn't deserve his pity. Only his contempt.

"I loved you, Acheron."

He scoffed. "If what you've shown me is love, I'd rather you hate my guts and be done with me."

She burst into tears.

Acheron leaned his head back and cursed at the fact that those tears affected him. Why did he care? What the fuck was so wrong with him that he actually wanted to comfort her?

I'm even more defective than she is.

He slammed his staff down on the floor, making her cry even harder. "What do you want from me, Artie?"

"I want my friend back."

"No," he said bitterly. "You want your pet back. I was never your friend. Friends aren't ashamed of each other. They don't live in fear of other people seeing them together."

She looked up at him with her green eyes swimming in tears. "I'm sorry. There, I said it. I wish I could go back and repair everything that's happened. But I can't. I wish I could save our nephew. I wish that I'd been more decent to you. I wish . . ." She paused, but it was too late. He'd heard it loud and clear.

"That I'd never been a whore. Trust me, what you feel about that is a pittance compared to my sentiments. You were never the one they degraded and used. I'm the one who has to live with that past. Not you. You should be grateful those nightmares don't haunt your sleep."

"I have my own nightmares, thank you."

Perhaps she did. After all, she was the pitiful child who had to tolerate Apollo.

She looked up at him. "Food can't sustain you anymore, Acheron. You don't even have to eat human food again. But you do have to feed from me or you will revert to the Destroyer's Harbinger. You will have no compassion for the world and you will destroy it."

A muscle worked in his jaw. He wanted to call her a liar, but he knew the truth. He already felt those violent urges inside him. And he hated her for this "gift."

Cursing, he held his hand out to her.

She took his hand and he jerked her to her feet and into his arms. Then, just as he started to ravage her throat, he pulled back and bit into her gently.

At the end of the day, he wasn't a monster. He wouldn't brutalize her even if she did deserve it.

He'd made her a promise and though he may have been a thief and a whore, he wasn't a liar. He wouldn't serve to her what she'd served to him. He would always be better than that.

Artemis sighed as she felt Acheron's powers surging around her. His skin marbled to blue while he drank. The heat of his breath on her flesh ignited her desire, but when she tried to remove his clothes, he stopped her.

"I'm in no mood to play with my food, Artemis."

She closed her eyes as she heard his voice in her head.

When he'd taken his fill, he stepped away from her. His eyes were blazing red as he wiped the blood from his lips. "I need time away from you."

Those words sliced through her. "What are you saying?"

"Send a kori to me with your blood."

"No."

This time, he turned on her with all his powers ignited.

Artemis shrank away at the sight of his true god form. He was massive and terrifying.

"You will do as I command," he snarled through his fangs. "You brought me back against my will and you will not tell me how to live this new life. Do you understand?"

She nodded slowly as her heart broke again over what she'd lost. "While you're telling me what to do, you should know that when I brought you back, Styxx came with you. And he's filled with even more fury and hatred than you are."

Acheron cursed at the mention of his twin. "Where is he?"

"He's on the Vanishing Isle, under the care of a god who owes me a favor. He can't harm anyone where he is and he's in a good place with his every desire fulfilled."

"Then leave him there. I have no wish to ever see his face again."

"Rather difficult, isn't it?"

He curled his lip at her reminder. "Don't push me, Artie. I'm one step away from the edge and it wouldn't take much to step over it. Trust me, you don't want me there. Now get out of my sight. I don't ever want to see you here in my domain again."

Her tears started falling again, but this time they didn't affect him. He refused to allow that. She'd changed him from the man he'd been.

The whore was dead and a god of destruction had been born. Cursed. Hated. Powerful. Lethal.

His hatred for the world was carved into his heart. His past was a weight he carried on his back and his future was uncertain.

He had enemies aplenty who wanted him dead, an angry mother out to end the world, a baby demon who needed to be fed every few hours, two lunatics training him for a coming war neither would explain, and a horny goddess who only wanted him chained to her bedpost.

Yeah . . . it was "good" to be back in the mortal realm. He couldn't wait to see what tomorrow would bring. Too bad he had no warning for his place in it.

Damn the Fates-his sisters who'd betrayed and condemned him to this existence.

One day, he'd pay those bitches back too.

April 10, 9526 BC

Mount Olympus

Acheron didn't know why he'd agreed to meet Artemis. The mere thought of looking at her right now was enough to make him physically sick-if he could get sick. For almost a year, he'd been cleaning up Apollo's mess. There were remnant Apollites turning into soul-sucking Daimons on a daily basis.

Not that he blamed them, really. It'd been a small group of men that the Atlantean queen had sent out to assassinate his sister and nephew. Jealous over the fact that Apollo no longer came to her bed, the Atlantean queen had turned her venom to Ryssa. In the middle of the night, the queen's men had snuck into Ryssa's bedroom and killed her while she was feeding Apollodorus.

Then after Apollo had finished killing Acheron, the god had turned on the very race of people he'd created. Since the assassins had made it appear as if an animal had torn into Ryssa and Apollodorus, Apollo cursed them to feed on each other. Only Apollite blood could sustain them. What was it with Apollo and Artemis and blood?

If that wasn't enough of a curse, Apollo had banished them from the sun so that he'd never have to see them again and be reminded of their treachery. And not to be outdone, he'd then condemned their entire race to die slowly and painfully on their twenty-seventh birthday-the same age Ryssa had been.

Given the severity of the punishment, Acheron might have thought the god loved his sister. But he knew better. Apollo was no more capable of love than Artemis was. It was nothing more than a show of power. A warning to others who might think of turning on Apollo who was now telling everyone that he'd destroyed Atlantis to get back at the Apollites.

Stupid bastard. And stupid people for believing his lies.

Acheron kept his silence, not to protect the god, but only because Apollo's pathetic arrogance amused him.

By his own stupidity the god was going to be undone. Even now Acheron's mother sat in her prison, plotting the god's death . . . along with Artemis's. No sooner had Apollo damned his people than Apollymi had gone to Strykerius, Apollo's condemned son, and showed him how to circumvent death by taking human souls into Apollite bodies and thus elongating their lives.

No wonder Savitar had failed to tell Acheron the name of the goddess Acheron would be fighting.

It was his own mother. She was the one leading the Daimon army that was set on its own vengeance. He should have known.

But then his revenge had been more direct. He'd hunted down the ones who'd killed his sister and nephew-those who'd survived his mother's attack, and he'd made them wish they'd never been born with nerve-endings.

Now he was at war with his mother.

Acheron sighed heavily. "One day, I'm going to kill those damned Fates."

But it wouldn't be today. Today he was meeting with Artemis to see why she'd been shrieking and threatening to kill him these past months. Between her and his mother ranting at him, this was the first time since he'd died that his head had been clear of their incessant nagging.

He felt the ripple of power down his spine that signified her arrival. He stiffened in expectation of her shrewish voice. When she didn't start yelling at him, he turned his head to find her hesitating.

"Why so nervous, Artemis?"

"You're very different now."

He laughed at her acute sense of perception. He was different. No longer a subservient slave, he was a pissed off god who wanted the entire world to leave him alone.

"I don't like your hair black."

He gave her a droll stare. "And I don't like your head attached to your shoulders. Guess we can't all have what we want, huh?" He narrowed his gaze on her. "I don't have time for this shit. If all you want is to gawk at me, then you can admire my back as I walk away from you."

He turned his back to her.

"Wait!"

Against his better judgment, he hesitated. "For what?"

She had approached him cautiously as if terrified of him. "Please don't be angry at me, Acheron."

He laughed bitterly at her words. "Oh, anger doesn't even begin to describe what I am at you. How dare you bring me back."

She gulped as her features drew taut. "I had no choice."

"We all have choices."

"No, Acheron. We don't."

As if he believed that. She'd always been selfish and vain and no doubt that was the only reason he'd been brought back when he should have been left dead. "Is this why you've been summoning me? You want to apologize?"

She shook her head. "I'm not sorry for what I've done. I would do it over again in a heart pound."

"Beat," he snarled, correcting her.

She waved the word away with her hand. "I want there to be peace between us."

Peace? Was she insane? She was lucky he didn't kill her right now. If it wasn't for fear of what could happen, he would have.

"There will never be peace between us. Ever. You shattered any hope of it when you watched your brother kill me and refused to speak up on my behalf."

"I was afraid."

"And I was butchered and gutted on the floor like an animal sacrifice. Excuse me if I don't feel your pain. I'm too busy with my own." He turned to leave her then, but she stopped him again.

It was then he heard the muffled whimpering of a baby. Scowling, he watched in horror as she withdrew an infant from the folds of her peplos.

"I have a baby for you, Acheron."

He jerked his arm away from her as fury singed every part of him. "You bitch! Do you honestly think that could ever replace my nephew whom you let die? I hate you. I will always hate you. For once in your life, do the right thing and return that to its mother."

She slapped him then with enough force to split his lips. "Go and rot, you worthless bastard."

Laughing, he wiped the blood away with the back of his hand while he stared venomously at her. "I may be a worthless bastard, but better that than a frigid whore who sacrificed the only man to ever love her because she was too self-absorbed to save him."

The look on her face scorched him. "I'm not the whore here, Acheron. You are. Bought and sold to anyone who could pay your fee. How dare you think for one minute you were ever worthy of a goddess."

The pain of those words seared a permanent place in his heart and soul. "You're right, my lady. I'm not worthy of you or anyone else. I'm just a piece of shit to be dumped naked in the street. Forgive me for ever sullying you."

Then he vanished from her.

Their relationship was now over. There was no power in the universe that would ever make him speak to her again.

You need her blood.