Chapter Thirteen

I lost track of time.

I wasn't sure if I'd been in the arena for six, twelve, or, hell, even seventy-eight hours. I just know that I lost consciousness sometime and I welcomed it with open arms, especially since it was dark and cold and there were no dreams, no visions. It gave me a chance to finally rest.

There wasn't a single part on my body that wasn't in pain. My muscles were torn and tired, worked to the limit. My bones ached, my jaw ached, and my head felt like someone had used it for dodge-ball practice. My organs had been healed, only for the Khalian to beat me shitless all over again. Right when I started to feel healed and somewhat well again, they went right back to it until I couldn't move anymore. I hadn't felt this exhausted, this used and dirty and broken since my days in Styx.

Thankfully, they finally took a break to discuss their next attack on the Greeks, and they transported me back to the cold dark cell underground. I welcomed the darkness and the cold ground that worked wonders on my battered body. They refused to heal me the final time, so I lay on the floor not moving a muscle, my hair falling over my face as I stared at the bars of my cell.

Part of me wanted to drag myself to the straw mattress to rest, but I couldn't even move my fingers without wanting to snarl in pain, so I remained still as I stared at the bars, the dull rusted iron that somehow managed to keep me contained. Then again, they probably didn't need to waste time on the bars considering the collar was enough to keep me restrained.

I sighed and closed my eyes with the intention to rest for the next time the Atlanteans came after me, so I could come up with some kind of plan, but the air rippled for a moment and I opened my eyes to glare at the bars as Arikos appeared there with a tray that held a small bowl of buttered rice and a couple of strips of jerky.

Arikos didn't say a word as he knelt down on the floor outside the bars and slid the tray beneath the bars so it was a few inches in front of my face. I made no move to grab it as I stared at Arikos, who stared back at me. There was a huge bruise on the side of his face where Atlan had struck him, and I noticed a few new bruises scattered across his hips and thighs, a bite mark here and there.

We said nothing, the silence eerie and only interrupted by the occasional crackle of fire from the torches in the room, or someone whimpering from their cell somewhere above me. I closed my eyes again with the intention to rest, because I didn't feel like talking to Arikos right now, but I heard a strange noise that made me frown and open my eyes again to see Arikos in tears.

It was so strange to see them on his face, smearing the kohl around his eyes so his tears were black as they ran hot down his face, leaving darkened trails.

"Hannibal, I'm so sorry," Arikos managed, voice shaking, "I'm so, so sorry. I know no matter how many times I say it, it won't change anything. I just... I just wanted out. I wanted out so badly that I didn't care what happened to you in the end, or at least, that's what I tried to convince myself." I said nothing, just watched him hold his head down in shame.

No one ever apologized to me. And I wasn't sure if I was just too tired, or maybe I still felt a strange connection to Arikos, or maybe I just pitied him, but I couldn't find it in me to be angry with him. I just watched him cry silently before I breathed out a long sigh and propped myself up on my elbows, clenching my teeth against the pain of moving. My bones cracked and groaned at the movements and my muscles burned as if just the slight movement was an intense strain.

"Did you make this?" I asked, looking at the tray. Arikos sniffed and gave me a nod.

"I'm not supposed to be here," He admitted nervously, glancing toward the entrance, then around the room as if waiting for someone to burst in and punish him, then he looked at the tray, "It's technically my own lunch. I'm only allowed so much food. But you need it more than I do." I frowned.

"Your lunch?"

"It's fine," Arikos assured me, reaching up to wipe at his eyes, then frowning at the smear of makeup on his hand, then he looked up, "Really, please. It's the least I can do after being a dick." I said nothing to deny that claim, so I picked the bowl up and slowly sat up on my knees, grimacing against the pain as I used my fingers to scoop the rice out into my mouth. My stomach protested the food, but I was too hungry to really care about that or the way it burned my raw throat.

As I ate, I thought back to the arena. There was really no stopping it. It was still fresh in my mind, and each ache and pain in my body was a constant reminder. I still felt like there was something shoved inside me, be it sword or cock. But I was so numb from it, like the time after Akin had rescued me from Styx.

I felt so numb and tense, and the drugs kept me dazed and confused. I didn't even know it was Akin who had carried me away. I thought I was dreaming the whole rescue up to block out what was happening to me. It wasn't until I heard a woman's garbled voice through the haze of drugs informing him that she was going to sedate me and panic flooded my veins. I couldn't find the English or Greek words to tell them to leave me alone, so I'd shouted in Atlantean.

It seemed like every time I panicked or got angry enough, I could only focus on the Atlantean words. A language I hadn't spoken in so long and most people didn't recognize.

And after the drugs had mostly been cleared from my system and I was suffering withdrawal symptoms, I still didn't want to be near anyone. I wasn't even sure why I reacted so violently when people tried to come near me, even Akin. I knew I had deserved what happened to me and I had accepted it with a cold rage inside, but still the thought of having someone's hands on me made my skin crawl and stomach twist in knots.

Even now, I didn't particularly want to touch anyone, especially not Arikos, but somehow, his company was oddly comforting. I suppose because, by the looks of him, he had suffered the same punishment as I did, except at the hands of his own father.

That still sickened me.

Atlan was doing this to his own son. And here I thought Iapetus was the worst monster to exist, but I'd finally met his match.

No wonder Atropos was desperate to keep me alive, if I was the only one who could kill the prick. Staring at the wounds on Arikos's body only renewed my blood thirst for Atlan. Still, his own son? How?

"Why does Atlan hate you?" I asked after I finished the food and took my time chewing on the jerky. Arikos looked uncomfortable, but he answered anyway as he brushed a hand through his hair.

"I was a mistake, and a punishment," He said quietly, making me frown, "My mother was one of Isis's most beloved daughters. Atlan cornered her during a visit to our realm and raped her. When her pantheon discovered it, they threw her out when Atlan claimed she seduced him. As revenge, my mother gave birth to me and gave me to Atlan. I've been his property ever since." My stomach knotted. Now that sounded familiar. It was almost like... Arikos was the version of me that wilted in defeat.

Looking at Arikos now, I saw how tired he was, how defeated. He'd been broken a long, long time ago.

"You never tried to leave?" I asked. Arikos averted his eyes, rubbing at his arms uneasily.

"I tried a few times. The first time I tried to leave the island, but Xelius caught me and sent me back. The second time, I tried to bribe someone into taking me off the island, but they brought me back. The third time, I slit my wrists open and Atlan found me. Fourth time, I tried to goad Atlan into killing me. He didn't. Fifth time, I tried to jump out one of the windows... and Zelus found me, sent me back. I gave up after that. Well, at least until Atlan told me he'd give me my freedom if I brought you here, which also turned out to be a lie. I should've known. I was just blinded by my own desperation that I didn't realize I was hurting someone who'd never even hurt me."

"To be honest," He laughed bitterly, rubbing at his neck, "When those men caught me in Hell and tied me to the bed, and you found me there, I thought you were going to fuck me too. I was just waiting for it. I knew it was you the moment you walked in. When you took off my blindfold, I figured you were like Atlan, who liked to make eye contact with me when he screwed me, but you freed me and I was confused. You know, you're the first person I've ever met who hasn't fucked me? Literally and figuratively? And yet I still turned you over..."

"Doesn't matter," I answered quietly, making him look at me in confusion, "It's done. I'm here."

"Because of me."

"Because of myself," I replied, making him tilt his head curiously, "I'm here for a reason. As much as it galls me to say this, everything happens for a reason. I'm here because I need to get closer to Atlan."

"Yeah, I don't think you want to do that. Trust me. As someone who's entirely too intimate with the bastard, you don't want to get within sixty miles of him. He smells like fish and shit and bites. A lot. As you can see." He added dryly, gesturing to his bite wounds. I frowned.

"I don't mean like that," I replied flatly, making him scowl, "I have to kill Atlan." His eyes widened.

"Uh, how hard did Drak hit you over the head? Atlan's part of the Source. And while I personally don't really care if I die, I kind of don't want anyone else to die."

"The Moirai gave me a prophecy that indicated I could kill Atlan and not rupture the balance. His name is in the Source's kill book." I responded. Arikos's eyes widened even more and he scooted closer, almost touching the bars, then remembered the booby-trap and just clenched his fists in his lap.

"You mean... You mean you can get rid of him? Forever? For good? No imprisonment? Actual death?"

"Yes. His soul will be eternally damned by the Source and there will be no way for it to return to the worlds of the living. Atlan will be permanently wiped from the realms." I responded. The relief on Arikos's face actually pinched my soul, especially when the tears welled in his eyes.

"Please," He managed, clenching his fists tighter, "Please. I'll do anything to help you. Please just get rid of him for good."

"First, I need to get close enough to actually kill him. I need to do it on a battlefield, unfortunately," I added, making him frown in confusion, "The Moirai are ever one for specifics. Their prophecy said I had to rise from the darkness on the battlefield and take Atlan down there, probably in front of everyone, which is going to be a nice added pressure, but I have to do it."

"But you can't do that in here," Arikos said hesitantly, "You need to get out, get to Hades and Lucifer, give them the plan. Launch a battle and kill Atlan there."

"Yes." I replied. Arikos chewed at his bottom lip, studying the bars. I frowned for a second, then glared at him.

"No," I told him sternly, making him look at me, "Arikos, don't. You're in enough shit as it is. I can do this on my own." Arikos gave me a droll stare.

"You honestly think Atlan won't take his rage out on me? If Atlan trips over the rug, he blames me for it. After Xenon escaped and I had nothing to do with it because I was busy bleeding out on the floor in his chambers, he beat me unconscious, then healed me and did it again. Hannibal, it doesn't matter how you escape from here, Atlan will beat me for it. Don't bother with me. Besides, I deserve it for putting you here in the first place."

"Don't say that." I muttered. It reminded me of what Raven would tell me on one of his bad days. He'd sit there with his head in his hands and blame himself for what Julius had done to him. It always made me sick to my stomach. It wasn't Raven's fault what happened to him, and it certainly wasn't Arikos's fault that his life sucked either. Like me, Arikos and Raven got the short end of the stick. We were life's greatest punchline and there was nothing we could do about it, except keep walking and piss everyone off that we hadn't fallen to our knees in defeat.

And nothing gave me greater pleasure than pissing people off when they realized they couldn't make me feel like shit.

A strange swell of confidence welled up inside me, and trust me, that was a rare thing. I wasn't sure if the confidence came from the fact that I was a different person now because of Akin, or because of the knowledge the Moirai had given me and while I still wanted to strangle them all for their prophecy, I didn't particularly care anymore.

Atlan had ruined everyone's life for the last time.

He tricked an innocent demon into falling in love with him, then used him, and cursed him. He betrayed Xenon and tortured him. He tried to kill me and he hurt Lea. He kept Arikos captive for no other reason, except torture. Atlan bullied everyone around him and he was the kind of power-hungry lunatic that needed to be put down.

And I was the only one who could do it and I accepted that responsibility with relish.

Atlan was going to pay dearly for everything he'd done to Arikos, to Xenon, to Lea, to Zetnos, to me, to Xiphrus, to everyone.

"Arikos," I said, making him look up, "I need to get out of here. I can't remove the collar because I'm not a full-blooded Atlantean, and neither are you, but I can still get away from here and go to Hell and have Xenon do it." Arikos chewed his bottom lip, rubbing at his arm.

"Yeah, but I tried to escape here a thousand times before with the same collar, same restrictions. And even worse, Drak claimed you. That isn't just him making it verbal. I've... I've had Drak use me before like he did you. He can sense you more easily now. If you try to, say, take a boat to one of the other islands, he can and will find you." He explained nervously. I narrowed my eyes.

Now I knew why Drak was so familiar to me.

He reminded me of Julius.

Desperate to keep property, cold-hearted and vile to the core of his black soul. A pathetic coward who wanted to own everything. No, he wasn't a Dominant. I mistook his intimidation for authority. He was nothing like Akin, or Kristoff. A real Dominant wasn't a psychopath without a heart. No, Drak was a bully and a coward. And if what Arikos said was true, getting out of here wasn't going to be easy.

I couldn't break out of here and just leave.

I needed a plan.

"What're you thinking?" Arikos asked warily.

"I'm thinking I'm going to play Drak's game." I said. Arikos grimaced.

"Uh, what's that supposed to mean?"

"Drak's game is familiar. I've seen it before. He craves power over another person. He's a lot like Atlan... and someone else I knew briefly. Anyway, it's going to make my skin crawl, but I'm going to play nice and see how far I can get with this asshole."

"Yeah, but if he's played this before, he might know what you're doing."

"It's a 50/50 chance and right now, I'm willing to risk it. He's already beaten me and raped me, what more can he do?" I asked. Arikos hissed past clenched teeth.

"That's bad luck."

"I lost superstition when I realized my life is made of bad luck." I deadpanned. Arikos paused to consider that when the air flickered and pulsed. Arikos paled and shot to his feet, whirling around as a column of smoke appeared in a spin, then dispersed to reveal Drak standing there, looking as if he'd never gotten into a bloody battle with me, his hair slicked back cleanly and wearing a crisp new outfit similar to his old one, except entirely black. He pinned a glare on Arikos, who dropped his eyes on the ground instantly.

"What are you doing here." It wasn't a question. Arikos gulped audibly, taking a safe step back.

"W-Well, I thought he'd-- Uhm, f-food, sir."

"You are not authorized to feed my pet."

"Sorry, sir. My apologies."

"Leave now before I take you to the arena as well." Drak ordered. Arikos bowed quickly, casting me a quick nervous stare before vanishing on the spot. Drak watched him disappear, then approached the bars to stare inside where the tray was, then at me as I met his eyes. It was going to be a lot harder to play his game considering the urge to be defiant was overwhelming, not to mention, he'd become suspicious if I obeyed right away. I would have to work up to playing nice, even though it would gall me to do so.

There was a small part of me that felt angry about the idea of obeying someone who wasn't Akin. Akin's voice held the warm authority that made me feel safe, made me feel... alive. The moment I met Akin, I found it hard not to do as he said. There was such a firm power to him, but it was gentle and comforting. It was like the voice of a teacher, patient and gentle, but strong.

Drak's was cold and harsh, like a military general and it made my skin crawl as I remembered the only other general I ever obeyed, that being Iapetus. His orders were spoken in the same cruel sneer that Drak's was, and it took everything I had not to meet his eyes defiantly and spit at him for even trying.

"Vomit up what he gave you." Drak ordered. I made a rude noise in response and Drak glared at me.

"Vomit."

"No, thanks."

"Now."

"No." I repeated more defiantly. Drak narrowed his eyes, then waved his hands and the iron bars disappeared. I cursed and tried to back up, but my body was still sore and throbbing, so I couldn't move very far before I fell on my back in pain. Drak stood over me, then stooped down and grabbed me by a handful of hair, making me hiss. I snarled and went to bite him, but he shoved two fingers in my mouth before I could stop him. He shoved them far back, making me choke and gag. I reached up to sink my fingernails into his arm and he pushed his fingers back as far as they would go.

My stomach burned as bile shot up my throat and poured past Drak's fingers from my mouth. He tried to push back even further, urging more vomit, until he pulled his hand away and I choked, puking up everything Arikos had just given me. I gasped hard for breath, clutching at my stomach as my raw throat screamed in protest at the acid burning the wounds.

"You will not eat, unless I give you permission," Drak said monotonously, making me peer up at him past my hair as I panted and glared, "You will not drink, unless I give you permission. You will not sleep, unless I give you permission. Consider the air you breath as a gift from me for letting you take a break."

"Gee, thanks." I replied sarcastically. Drak narrowed his eyes, then slammed his foot down on the back of my head, making me gasp as my face collided with the mess on the floor and I seethed in disgust, squeezing my eyes shut.

"And you most certainly will not speak to me, unless I give you permission or ask you a direct question. And when you speak to me, you will refer to me as your master. And I can do without that sarcasm, worm. Do I make myself clear? Say yes, master." Drak commanded. I curled my lip.

This was going to be a lot harder than I thought.

"Yes." The word made me want to puke again.

"Yes, what?" Drak demanded, applying pressure to my head. I hissed.

"Yes, master." The pressure lifted from my head and I picked myself up off the floor, breathing hard as I wiped the mess off my face, feeling sick to my stomach.

I'm sorry, Akin. I thought bitterly. I never wanted to call Drak master. He was not worthy of the title. It was a title I wanted to use only for Akin. But if I wanted to get out of here and get another chance to call Akin anything at all, I had to swallow my pride and do it, even though it galled me to do so. I really just wanted to take Drak's head and stick it between the bars and use his head as a punching bag. It was going to take an incredible amount of control on my part and without Akin, I wasn't sure I could do it.

"We'll have to clean you up if you're going to be my pet." Drak muttered, lifting his nose in disgust as he raked me with a sneer. I resisted the urge to respond.

Yeah, the vomit on my face is your fault, asswipe.

I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying it out loud. Drak snapped his fingers at me.

"Up. We're going to clean you." He commanded. I rose to my feet, despite the pain pulsing up my legs and into my back. Drak scanned me from head to toe for a moment before he reached out and grabbed my arm in a biting grip. I hissed, but that was all I managed as we teleported from the cell to a white marble bathing room with a large pool in the ground, several trays of soaps, and a basket of expensive jewelry. I raised an eyebrow, mildly impressed that he'd bring me to such a nice place considering how shitty he treated me.

And Arikos.

I paused, feeling my stomach twist tight at the thought of Arikos being forced to experience this. How strange that we hadn't known each other for very long, but I felt like I knew him forever. It was how I felt when I met Raven. Even though, in the beginning of our friendship, we barely spoke a word to each other and only sparred in silence, there was a strange connection between us. Even without speaking, I could enjoy Raven's company, and on a strange level, our sparring matches had always drawn us closer. It was like knowing our strengths and weaknesses seemed more intimate than it would in a real battle.

And then I found myself missing Raven. Usually I was aching for Akin constantly, and even though that ache was still there, Raven had joined him. And Arikos.

And Lea.

I felt sick to my stomach thinking about her, but not like I did before. Before, it was sick with anger and hurt and frustration, confusion. Now I felt sick because the last thing I had said to her had been of pure malice and hatred.

Stay the fuck away from me.

That was the last memory she'd ever had of me. Now I understood why she'd been so frustrated with me. She knew the truth and I didn't, because I was too much of a fucking coward to stand and listen to her. I'd been so afraid to hope, and even now I was still afraid. If I managed to escape this place, I may be on the path of forgiveness towards Lea, but she would steadily find herself on my path.

A path made of darkness and evil.

Not wanting to think about it, I focused on Drak, who'd summoned a handful of servants to clean the bathing room and fill the water with scented oils and soaps. The servants all kept their heads down and moved as quickly as possible, and Drak paid them no mind as he approached me. My skin prickled with goosebumps and my hackles rose as he slid behind me and rested his hands on my shoulders.

"To be honest," He said in a low, husky voice, a total contradiction to his stoic expression, "I would be bending you over now and fucking you in front of them, but you're extremely disgusting. I'll clean you and make you presentable and take you to show off in the main hall... I'll show Atlan that I tamed you much easier than he attempted to tame you." I said nothing to that, but it aggravated me that he dared to think of me as an animal.

How strange, that I adored it when Akin gave me a collar, called me his pet, and teased me and showed me off to others, but when Drak did it, it made my skin crawl and I wanted to snap his neck with my bare hands.

Once the servants were gone, Drak shoved me into the tub and I sank down into the hot water, watching steam billow in soft clouds toward the open skylight that was allowing a cool ocean breeze to waft in.

"I'll be back," Drak said without looking at me, "And don't bother trying to escape. I can, and will, find you." Without another word, he was gone and I rolled my eyes. Was that his pathetic attempt at being spooky? The guy was a joke, but I certainly didn't need to tell him that or piss him off.

As much as I hated it, I had to play his stupid game in order to find my escape, an escape I would have to perfect if I wanted it to work. I wanted to move fast; the sooner I killed Atlan, the better, but it looked like it was going to take longer than I wanted it to, which infuriated me. Nothing disgusted me more than sticking around as Drak's toy.

Even worse, the longer I stayed here, the angrier I got. I could feel that soothing hot rage sliding through my veins, coaxing me toward the darker, redder side of my temper. I was salivating for their blood, for Atlan's blood. I wanted to grab Drak right off those expensive loafers and bash his head into the nice pristine marble floors, savor the red cascading against the white. I could already taste it sliding across my tongue and down my throat into a stomach that would never be quenched of hunger, of thirst, from normal foods.

I didn't want to go near that dangerous part of me. I'd fought so hard, with Akin's help, to keep it at bay. It was a unfathomable rage and anger... Atlan's curse. I was a god of chaos, of blood lust.

I'd seen a god cave into that hunger and I'd seen him destroy the ones he loved.

The Greek god, Ares, was a god of blood lust, of chaos. He'd been born into it to balance the pantheon, and Ares was never allowed to go into a battle where he might kill someone connected to the Source. In battle, Ares got blood drunk and went on a rampage, killing everything in sight. His rampages were legendary, and it wasn't until Ares had accidentally killed his most beloved daughter on one of those rampages when he'd broken down and locked himself away in hopes of never being summoned again, but during a battle in which his help was desperately needed, they'd sent Aphrodite in to convince him to come out.

And it was Aphrodite who kept him tethered to this world, to his sanity. His children that fought to keep him grounded. So never again would Ares make the mistake of killing someone he loved, and someone who could mean the very life and death of the entire universe.

Our blood lust was a beast inside us, a hungry rabid beast, that wanted nothing, but blood and total subjugation of those around us. It was so hard to fight. I hadn't known the truth until the Moirai, until Lea, but now I knew why all those times I had simply thought I was a monster on my own.

When there really had been a monster inside me.

It was the beast salivating for chaos.

And that was the beast that Atlan wanted in his grasp so he could take down the other pantheons, and if he could manipulate Xiphrus, the Demon of Destruction, into playing his part...

The universe is fucked in more ways than the Kama Sutra teaches.

I was antsy to see how Atlan would try to make me obey. Was that why he was letting Drak do this to me? Because he thought Drak could beat me into submission better than Atlan himself? Would I end up like Xiphrus if I didn't fight the beast inside me?

That made me ill.

I dunked under the water and held my breath for a moment before resurfacing, taking a deep breath and brushing the wet hair back from my face. I swam to the edge of the pool and stared at the silver tray that held all the soaps and oils. My reflection stared back at me and I narrowed my eyes, avoiding my reflection afterwards as I reached for the shears that sat on the edge of the tray, debating whether to hide them in the water or not, so I could slit Drak's throat, but that would be counterproductive, so instead, I used them to cut the ends of my hair, cropping it to my shoulders before I set the shears aside and washed the grease and vomit out of my hair.

At some point, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck tickle as they stood on end, indicating someone had entered the room behind me. Without even having to use my powers, I knew it was Drak and he was watching me in silence.

I narrowed my eyes, then dunked under the water for a moment, then resurfaced and turned to confirm that Drak was, indeed, standing at the edge of the pool, staring at me intently.

"You cut your hair." He stated. I met his eyes squarely.

"Couldn't get the vomit out."

"Do not cut your hair without my permission." Drak commanded. I said nothing as Drak appeared to be peeved with me as he went to fetch a towel and threw it at my face.

"Dry yourself off, mongrel, then stand in front of me." He ordered. I resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow at him and dried my hair off before climbing out of the pool, coming to stand in front of him, watching him narrow his eyes in irritation at the fact that I was by far taller than him. I was taller than Akin too, but Akin loved it. He was tired of running into people who were shorter. He was happy to finally be the, as he put it, "short and cute" one.

"As punishment for cutting your hair without my permission, I'm going to cut your palms. Give me your hands." Drak commanded. I glared at him and put my hands behind my back.

This was going to be way harder than I thought.

"Give me your hands, or I'll cut something else." Drak warned, reaching out toward my groin, but I threw my hands out before he could touch me. Drak's mouth twitched, like he was amused by my actions, and I resisted the urge to kick him as he picked up the shears and flipped them open before laying the blade across my palms. I growled low in my throat as he slit my palms open, allowing blood to pour out to the floor. Drak licked his lips and leaned down to drag his tongue across the burning cut and I bared my fangs before he snatched me closer, wrapping his fist in my hair to pull my face right up to his so our noses were touching.

"If you ever make that fucking face at me again, I will cut your tongue out and remove your fangs." He threatened. I said nothing as he roughly released me and stepped back to wipe the blood off the shears. I bit back the burning agony of the cuts in my palms. Normally they would've healed by now, but with the collar restricting my powers, they continued to burn and sizzle in pain.

Drak stooped down to the basket of jewelry. He replaced the iron shackles on my wrists with a pair of gold ones with a long thin chain between them, and added a couple of rings to the collar around my throat, and gold braces to my biceps, ankles, and thighs. Nothing to cover up the rest of me, which is exactly how he wanted it, thinking it would humiliate me.

To be honest, the most humiliating moment in my life had been when Cain forced me to undress in front of his brothers to prove my loyalties were not to the Titans. I still remembered the way they grimaced at my body, like it was the most disturbing thing they'd ever seen. And afterwards, I'd been punished by Cain for embarrassing him.

"I thought you only had a few scars, not the whole damn package! Ugh! You're disgusting and embarrassing! I can't believe you did that in front of them." Cain had ranted while adding to said scars.

Yeah, walking around naked in slave jewelry was nothing shocking. Besides, I didn't care what these assholes thought of me. Sooner or later, I was going to take each of their skulls in my fist and crush them, slowly and painfully, starting with Atlan and Drak.

"We're going to the main hall," Drak informed me as he set the basket aside, moving to adjust the cuff on my wrist, "And when we do, you will not speak or make eye contact with anyone. If you are spoken to, you will respond in the most reverent of tones and call them my lord. Anything other than this and I will publicly humiliate you in any way I see fit. Do you understand me?" I narrowed my eyes.

This guy obviously had no idea who he was dealing with.

"Yes, master." I said in a hard voice. Drak's eyes darkened for a moment before he backhanded me so hard I almost fell back into the pool, but managed to catch my balance, cracking my neck to the side before turning to stare directly at Drak.

"I will break you. Count on it." Drak threatened in a monotone voice. I said nothing to that, just cocked my head. There was a flicker of lust deep in Drak's eyes, burning hot and it seared the air between us. He raked me with a sneer before snatching my hand and teleporting us from the bathhouse to the main hall.

The main hall was part of Atlan's temple. Massive and ancient, definitely not as up to the times as some of the other stuff the Atlanteans had gotten a hold of, such as their outfits. The gods milled around in clothing from jeans to knit sweaters, no longer the ancient robes and other garb they'd adorned themselves with. But the clothes they wore were name brand-- surprise, surprise.

The temple itself was decorated with tall fat columns with etched legends and tales on them that went straight up to the tiered gold ceiling, and down to the black marble flooring. A large table set up sat at the head of the room, low set with blood red pillows running up and down the sides where the gods were seated, and a massive mural marked the wall behind them, the creation legend of the pantheon that showed Atlan stepping from the cosmos of the Source with Lea, Xanius, and Xelius emerging behind him.

"Well, well," A voice said, making me glance sideways to see Drak's twin sister approach us, scanning me from head to toe, "You actually managed to tame him? How'd you manage that?" Drak gave her a bored stare, his arms folding over his chest.

"He's a dog. Every dog can be trained."

"Mm," Drulius responded, humming as she approached me to touch my arm, her touch making me tense and a smirk curved the corner of her lips, "Judging from his pretty jewelry, he's a special kind of slave." Drak pinned her with an empty glare.

"You are a goddess of maidenhood. Keep away from him." He commanded. Drulius made a noise of disgust.

"I'll have you know that in this day and age, women are far more respected than they were in the past. I will not have you restrict whom I wish to bed. And I wish to bed your slave."

"You won't lose your virginity to a mongrel," Drak warned in a hard voice, "Stand down or I'll just summon a chastity belt to you." Drulius glared at him.

"I wish you'd been made the god of virginity, asshole." She snapped angrily, then stormed off to join Xanius and Xelius at the front of the room. I watched her go, amused by their exchange. Drak grabbed the chain between my cuffs and jerked me closer, then caught the hook on the front of my collar to bring me down to his level.

"Lay a finger on her, slave, and I will castrate you. Understood?" He demanded. I raised an eyebrow and just gave him a nod. He let go of me roughly with a glare that promised a throughout punishment later, not that I cared for it. My eyes drifted away from Drak and I scanned the room to access the gods in presence.

I recognized Xanius, and Xelius from the mural on the wall. Xelius was rather tall, dark hair slicked back from a face that seemed to have a lazy smirk eternally plastered there, but there was an underlying danger that warned me not to go easy on him simply because he appeared lax. Xanius bled evil from her very pores, and from what little I picked up from Xenon, Xanius was a trickster god. I would have to keep an eye on her...

"Those jewels suit you." I tensed and turned to see Atlan standing in the shadows of a column, wearing a pair of loose black slacks and a v-neck shirt with jewel encrusted necklaces and bracelets, and his dark hair swept back from his face as eerie silver eyes locked on me. I glanced sideways to see that Drak had been pulled away by Xanius, and judging from the way Xanius cast me a quick smirk, Atlan had planned to catch me alone. So I turned back to him and narrowed my eyes.

"Nice to finally come face to face with you not hiding behind bars." I said. Atlan's mouth twitched, and he pushed off the column he'd been reclining against and approached me, scanning me from head to toe, and he nodded slightly in approval.

"You'll make a fine addition. Once I've gotten a hold of Xiphrus, I'll have the complete set." He mused, making me smirk, which appeared to surprise him.

"Yeah, you can set us up on your dirty little shelf alongside your son," I paused dramatically and Atlan's eyes glowed menacingly, "Oh, sorry, I mean your sex slave, but apparently there's no difference in your eyes, is there?" He curled his lip and stood close to me, trying to intimidate me, but it hardly worked. I'd faced more terrifying things than this asshole.

He's never seen Cain on the holidays.

"Sooner or later," Atlan began in a low voice, "You will learn to hold that tongue of yours. I don't plan to go easy on you. I was supposed to have killed you that night in Atlantis. You were nothing, but a sniveling little brat that night, crying for your whore mother. I destroyed every part of you. The fact that you survived only means that the prophecy will come to fruition... In that I will own you."

"I'm already owned."

"Drak is merely helping me control you."

"Not by him," I replied, watching Atlan narrow his eyes, "I'm only tolerating you as a means to an end. You're forgetting that the prophecy says I'm going to kill you, and the fact that you tried to kill me when I was a toddler, means you must be really fucking terrified of me. Even now, I can smell it on you. You're scared shitless because you know you can't control me. And you know I won't just kill you. I'm going to do it nice and slow and make you beg for mercy." Atlan's eyes flared angrily and he reached up to grab me by the throat, squeezing, but I didn't bat a lash at his threat, just smirked.

"You can and will be tamed. If Arikos can, you can too." He released me and snapped his fingers, luring a desdios over to his side. Atlan turned to him.

"Tell Arikos to prepare. I want him to be our entertainment for the night," He informed, making me frown, then he turned to me with a smug stare, "I figure it's time to show you what your future will be." Without another word, he brushed past me to take his seat at the head of the table. I narrowed my eyes, watching him leave. He made my skin crawl; fucking prick.

"Come." Drak said, returning to my side. I said nothing and followed him to his seat at the table and sat a couple feet behind him on my knees, watching the desdios move around in a frantic to quickly obey their lords. I almost felt a smug satisfaction when they got snapped at or bullied by the gods because it was their fault they stupidly defected from Hades and Hell to come here. They had no idea that they were consigning themselves to eternal slavery to a group of assholes.

Assholes you're going to rule someday.

Like hell. I didn't care what the prophecy said-- I wasn't going to be king of these people and I wasn't going to become Atlan's weapon.

I'm going to kill every single one of these assholes and permanently destroy the Atlanteans.