Page 1 of City of Secrets and Shadows (Empire of Vengeance #2)

1

T he dragon landed hard, its massive claws tearing into the hard packed ground as we struck the ground beyond the burning outskirts of town. The impact rattled my bones and snapped my teeth together, but the terror and exhilaration of flight still coursed through my veins like liquid fire. For precious moments, I could only cling to the iron chains, my mind struggling to comprehend what we had just done.

We had escaped. On a dragon. The impossibility of it made me want to laugh or scream or both.

As the great beast settled, wings folding with a sound like leather sails, I became acutely aware of Livia’s body pressed against mine. Her back was flush to my chest, her hair wild from the wind and smelling of smoke and sweat and steel. My arms had locked around her during our desperate flight, holding her steady as the world fell away beneath us. Now they lingered, reluctant to let go of this miracle we had somehow survived together.

More surprising was the weight behind me, the arms still wrapped tight around my waist like iron bands. Septimus. The arena champion who’d leapt onto a dragon with a half-breed rather than remain under Drusus’s boot. His grip had been desperate during our flight, his face buried against my shoulder as though he could hide from the reality of what we were doing. Now those arms loosened slightly but remained locked around me as his breathing gradually steadied against my back.

I could feel the hammering of his heart through my spine, matching the frantic rhythm of my own. For this suspended moment, we were just three people clinging to each other in the aftermath of the impossible, with no room for the hatred and mistrust that usually stood between our people.

“We’re alive,” Livia whispered, her voice full of wonder. “By all the gods, we’re actually alive.”

She turned in my embrace, her face tilted up to mine. Her eyes reflected the distant fires of the town, flames dancing in their depths like captured stars. Blood streaked one cheek, and soot blackened her forehead, but I had never seen anything more beautiful than her face in that moment — fierce and wild and finally, truly free.

Behind me, Septimus seemed to come to his senses. His arms unwound from my waist as though suddenly burned, and he scrambled backward, nearly tumbling from the dragon’s massive neck in his haste to put distance between us. I felt the absence of his warmth immediately, the night air suddenly cold where his body had pressed against mine.

“Fucking hell,” Septimus gasped, his feet finding purchase on the dragon’s rough scales. He staggered to his knees, then promptly vomited onto the ground below, his broad shoulders heaving. “Never again. Never. Bloody. Again.”

I couldn’t help but smirk as I slid from the dragon’s neck, my legs trembling beneath me like a newborn colt’s. The mighty arena champion, undefeated in twenty-seven bouts, undone by a dragon ride. There was poetry in that.

I watched him retreat until he stood at the junction where the dragon’s neck met its shoulders, his face a mask of conflicted emotions. Disgust warred with relief on his features, and something else I couldn’t name — something that looked almost like fear when our eyes met.

“Never speak of this,” he spat, rubbing his arms as though trying to erase the memory of holding onto me. “To anyone.”

I snorted. “Who would believe me anyway? The great Septimus, clinging to a half-breed like a child to his mother’s skirts?”

I reached up to help Livia down, wrapping my arms around her to steady her as her feet hit the ground. Septimus didn’t like that one bit.

“Get your hands off her,” he snarled, regaining his balance and his hatred in the same moment. The vulnerability I'd felt in his desperate grip during our flight had vanished, replaced by the familiar cold contempt.

“Septimus, don’t,” Livia said quietly, but I didn’t want to start a fight right now. Not here. I released Livia slowly, letting my hands trail down her arms before stepping back. Not because he commanded it, but because we needed to move, to plan. The town behind us was chaos, imperial forces battling the Talfen raiders who had given us our chance at freedom. How long before they noticed a dragon flying away with escaped slaves?

“We should move. Drusus won’t let us escape so easily.”

“We need supplies,” I said, ignoring Septimus’s glare as I surveyed our surroundings. The desert stretched before us, silver-blue under the moonlight. Behind us, the town continued to burn, the arena a crumbling ruin at its heart. “Water, food. We won’t survive the crossing without them, even with a dragon to ride. We need to go back.”

“Back? Are you mad?” Livia asked. “We should be putting as much distance between us and that town as possible.”

“With what provisions?” I challenged her. “How far do you think we’ll get with nothing but the clothes on our backs?”

Her eyes flashed and she opened her mouth to reply, but Septimus stepped between us.

“I hate to say it, but the half-breed is right. We need supplies. There’s a storehouse near the eastern gate. If the fire hasn’t reached it…”

“Going back is madness. The whole town is on fire!”

“Then they’ll be distracted,” I countered.

“Fine,” she muttered. “Let’s go.”

“No.” The word came simultaneously from Septimus and me, our gazes locking in rare agreement over her head. He might despise me and everything I represented, but on this, we were united. She would not walk back into that death trap.

Livia’s expression hardened, that familiar stubbornness settling over her features. “I’m not some delicate flower that needs—”

“Someone needs to stay with the dragon,” I interrupted softly. “It knows you, Livia. It chose you. If it flies off without us...”

She knew I was right. We all did. Her shoulders sagged slightly, but I saw the fire still burning in her eyes. Submission had never come naturally to her, even when it was the wisest course.

“Be quick,” she finally said, turning to lay her hand on the dragon’s massive neck. “And both of you come back. Alive. Understand?”

I nodded, meeting Septimus’s gaze over her head. For just a moment, I thought I saw something like an understanding pass between us — both of us bound to her, willing to die for her, though we shared nothing else.

The shared moment shattered as quickly as it had formed, his face settling back into familiar lines of disdain as he turned away.

“Let’s go,” he said coldly. “Before the Talfen burn what we need.”

The way he said ‘Talfen’ — like a curse, like something filthy in his mouth — reminded me of everything that stood between us. Of everything I was to him: animal, enemy, monster.

I felt the phantom pressure of his arms around my waist, the desperate grip of a man who’d rather embrace his enemy than face death. How quickly he forgot when survival was no longer at stake.

We headed back toward the burning town, leaving Livia with her dragon. Neither of us looked back, though I felt her eyes following us, watching as we walked side by side toward danger — united in purpose if nothing else.

The outer edges of the town were already in ruins, buildings reduced to smouldering frames and collapsing walls. We moved like shadows through the destruction, taking advantage of the chaos. Smoke hung thick in the air, stinging my eyes and throat, but it offered concealment as we navigated the narrow alleys between structures.

“This way,” Septimus whispered, nodding toward a row of merchant storehouses near the eastern wall. “They keep the caravan supplies there.”

I paused, raising my hand to halt him. My head tilted slightly as I closed my eyes, focusing on the sounds beneath the crackling fires and distant screams. The steady rhythm of armoured footsteps approached from the adjacent street – imperial soldiers on patrol.

“Wait,” I murmured, barely audible. “Five men, coming from the east. They’ll pass directly in front of us.”

Septimus’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “How could you possibly—”

I grabbed his arm and pulled him into the shadow of a collapsed doorway just as the patrol rounded the corner. The soldiers moved in tight formation, weapons drawn, scanning the destruction around them with hard eyes. We pressed deeper into the darkness, barely breathing until they passed.

When they were gone, Septimus pulled his arm from my grip with a look of distaste, but there was also something new in his expression – grudging curiosity.

“You could hear them from that distance?” he asked, voice low.

I shrugged. “The Talfen blood that makes me so disgusting to you has its advantages. Better hearing, better sense of smell.” The words came out sharper than I intended. “Would you prefer to be captured?”

His jaw tightened, but he said nothing, just gestured for me to lead on. I suppressed a bitter smile – the mighty Septimus, arena champion, forced to follow a half-breed through the burning remnants of civilization. How that must gall him.

We reached the storehouses with only one more close call, ducking behind a cart as a group of looters ran past. Most of the buildings were untouched by fire here, though the doors of several had been broken open, their contents already ransacked.

“Third from the end,” Septimus said. “The merchant Crassus keeps his supplies there. He outfits the desert caravans.”

The heavy wooden door was still intact, secured with an iron lock. I glanced at Septimus, who was already pulling a thin metal tool from his boot. He worked the lock with practiced precision while I kept watch, ears straining for any approach.

“Arena champion and lockpick,” I observed quietly. “Interesting skills for a man so devoted to imperial law.”

His hands never faltered on the lock, but his voice was cold. “Slaves develop many skills to survive.”

The lock clicked open before I could retort, and we slipped inside the darkened storehouse. The air was cooler here, heavy with the scent of leather, oil, and dried foodstuffs. Septimus found a small oil lamp and struck it to life, casting a warm glow over rows of shelves and stacked supplies.

We worked efficiently despite our animosity, filling packs with the essentials – water skins, dried meat, hard biscuits, flint for fire-starting. I found a set of maps and rolled them carefully into a leather tube, while Septimus gathered lengths of rope and a small cooking pot.

As I moved deeper into the storehouse, seeking weapons to replace those we’d lost, I noticed Septimus pause by a shelf of medicinal supplies. His fingers skimmed over various jars and packets before selecting several – burn salve, powdered willow bark for pain, bandages. A crash from outside startled us both. I extinguished the lamp instantly, plunging us into darkness.

“Back door,” I whispered, already moving. My eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness, another gift of my mixed blood. I could make out Septimus’s form as he stumbled slightly, unable to see as well.

Without thinking, I reached back and gripped his wrist, guiding him through the cluttered space toward the rear exit. He stiffened at my touch but didn’t pull away, necessity overriding revulsion.

The back door opened onto another alley, narrower than the first. We could hear voices from the front of the building now – more looters, probably, drawn by the unbroken storehouse.

“There,” I pointed to a stack of crates that formed a makeshift stairway to the adjacent rooftop. “We can cross above the streets, avoid the patrols.”

For once, Septimus didn’t question or argue. He simply nodded and followed my lead, climbing swiftly despite the heavy pack now strapped to his back. I went first, testing each crate for stability, then reached down to help him up the final step to the flat clay roof.

Our hands clasped, fingers locking around wrists in a warrior’s grip. For a heartbeat, we were perfectly balanced, perfectly in sync – his strength matching mine as I pulled him up beside me. In that moment, I glimpsed what might have been possible between us if we’d met as equals, as comrades instead of rivals separated by blood and prejudice.

Then we were both on the roof, contact broken, the moment passed. But something had shifted, some small acknowledgment that perhaps, just perhaps, we could work together without killing each other.

At least until we got back to Livia.

We made our way across three rooftops, skirting around collapsed sections and jumping narrow gaps between buildings. The town burned around us, but from this height, we had a clearer view of escape routes and patrol movements. It was almost too easy – the soldiers were focused on fighting the Talfen raiders who still swooped through the night sky on their uncollared dragons, leaving the streets between battles largely unguarded.

As we reached the edge of the merchant district, we descended back to street level via a half-collapsed wall. The eastern gate was visible now, its wooden frame charred but still standing. Beyond it lay the desert road, and somewhere in the darkness, Livia waited with our dragon. We started toward a narrow alley that would take us beyond the city walls, our footsteps silent on the ash-covered stone. We were almost there when Septimus paused.

“Wait,” he said, voice oddly calm. “I think I hear something.”

I stopped, tilting my head to listen, but caught nothing beyond the distant sounds of battle. “There’s no one—”

The blow came from nowhere – a vicious strike to my kidney that dropped me to one knee. Before I could recover, his foot connected with my chin, snapping my head back with enough force to topple lesser men. I rolled instinctively, the arena’s lessons burned into my muscles, barely avoiding the downward stab of a dagger I hadn’t even seen him draw.

“What are you doing?” I snarled, scrambling to my feet, tasting blood where my teeth had cut into my cheek.

Septimus circled me, the dagger held low and ready in his right hand. His face had transformed, all pretence of cooperation stripped away to reveal the cold hatred beneath.

“What I should have done before we ever left the arena,” he said, his voice flat and certain. “She’s never going to be safe with you around. None of us will.”

I raised my hands, trying to appear non-threatening despite the rage building in my chest. “We just escaped together. We’re on the same side.”

His laugh was sharp as broken glass. “Same side? You’re Talfen.” He spat the word like venom. “Your people are burning this town to the ground. That’s what you are – what you’ll always be underneath that human face. An animal. A monster.”

He lunged again, faster than most men could move, the dagger slicing through the air where my throat had been a heartbeat before. I sidestepped, catching his wrist and twisting hard, but he used the momentum to drive his knee into my stomach. We separated, both breathing hard, measuring each other.

“I never asked to be born half-Talfen,” I growled, looking for an opening. “Any more than you asked to be born a slave. We were both thrown into cages not of our making.”

“The difference,” he said, circling again, “is that I’m still human. I don’t have the blood of demons in my veins. Look around you! This is what your people do! This is what you are!”

He attacked again, a flurry of calculated strikes that would have impressed me in the arena. Here, with my life at stake, I could only react, blocking and dodging, never quite finding an opening to counter without killing him.

“You’ve been waiting for this,” he continued, each word punctuated by another strike. “Waiting for your moment to show your true nature. I’ve seen how you look at her. You think you can have her? Take her back to your savage kin?” His face twisted with disgust. “She’ll never be safe with your kind around. You’re all savages underneath.”

Something snapped inside me then – the careful control I’d maintained my entire life, the walls I’d built to contain the parts of me the empire taught me to hate. With a roar that was more Talfen than human, I surged forward, no longer concerned with merely defending myself.

My fist connected with his jaw with a sickening crack, and I felt bones shift beneath my knuckles. He staggered back but managed to slash the dagger across my forearm, opening a long gash that immediately welled with blood. I barely felt it. The rage was too hot, too consuming.

I drove forward, using my superior strength to slam him against a wall hard enough to knock the air from his lungs. His dagger clattered to the ground as I pinned him, one forearm pressed against his throat, the other hand gripping his wrist so tightly I could feel the bones grinding together.

“Is this what you wanted?” I growled, my face inches from his. “To prove I’m the monster you always thought I was?”

Despite the pressure on his throat, despite being completely at my mercy, Septimus’s eyes showed no fear – only cold, implacable hatred. “Just... like... your father,” he choked out.

Something about those words cut through my rage like ice water. Was I becoming the very creature he accused me of being? The very monster I’d spent my life proving I wasn’t?

I eased the pressure on his throat just slightly, enough to let him breathe, and in that moment of hesitation, he slammed his forehead into my nose. Pain exploded across my face, hot blood pouring down my chin. I stumbled back, vision blurring, and Septimus lunged for his fallen dagger.

But I recovered faster than he expected. As his fingers closed around the hilt, my boot came down on his wrist, pinning his arm to the ground. He looked up at me, defiant even now, and I knew this would never end unless I ended it.

“She chose me too,” I said quietly. “Not just you. She chose us both.”

His face contorted with rage. “She only pities you, beast. She—”

My fist connected with his temple before he could finish, a carefully measured blow – enough force to knock him unconscious without causing permanent damage. His body went limp beneath me, head lolling to one side, the fight extinguished in an instant.

I stood over him, breathing hard, blood dripping from my nose and arm. The rage receded slowly, leaving behind a cold clarity as I contemplated my options.

I could leave him here. It would be easy – justified, even. He had tried to kill me. Would try again if given the chance. Without him, there would be no one to poison Livia against me with whispers of my ‘savage blood.’ No one to watch me with suspicious eyes, waiting for me to reveal my ‘true nature.’

Just Livia and me, and our dragon. Free to seek whatever future awaited us beyond the desert.

I looked down at his unconscious form, studying the face that had sneered at me so many times across the ludus dining hall. Even in unconsciousness, there was strength in the hard line of his jaw, the scar that bisected one eyebrow – marks of a fighter, a survivor. The same qualities that had drawn Livia to him, despite his flaws.

A memory surfaced: Livia’s face softening when she spoke of him, the quiet affection in her voice despite their arguments. How she’d challenged him, pushed him to be better than his prejudices. How devastated she would be if I returned without him, if she knew I had left him to die.

“Damn you,” I muttered, knowing I couldn’t do it – couldn’t hurt her that way, even if it meant keeping my greatest enemy at my side.

Even like this, helpless and hated, there was something compelling about the man. The same fire that burned in Livia burned in him too – different, colder perhaps, but just as intense. An unrelenting will to survive, to fight, to protect what was his. In another life, we might have been brothers-in-arms instead of rivals.

With a resigned sigh, I gathered our scattered supplies, slinging both packs over one shoulder, then I hoisted Septimus’s limp body over the other, surprised at how light he seemed despite his muscled frame. All that lethal speed and skill, temporarily silenced by my hand.

Protecting him felt wrong, like nurturing a viper. But for Livia, I would swallow worse poisons than this man’s hatred.

The gate loomed ahead, its charred frame a dark outline against the star-filled sky beyond. I paused in its shadow, shifting Septimus’s weight and looking back at the burning town that had been our prison for so long. The arena was nothing but a smouldering skeleton now, its sand forever stained with the blood of those who had died for entertainment.

The desert stretched before me, silent and endless under the cold light of the moon. Somewhere out there, Livia waited with our dragon, her eyes fixed on the horizon, watching for our return.

I adjusted my grip on the man who would gladly see me dead and started walking toward the only thing we both agreed was worth saving.