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I stepped into the training ring, the cool morning air prickling my skin. My stomach churned with a mix of determination and apprehension. The memory of my last defeat burned hot in my mind - Cato's smug grin as he pinned me to the ground, the laughter of the other gladiators ringing in my ears. The humiliation still stung, fueling my resolve to prove myself today.

As I made my way across the sand, I spotted Septimus near the weapon racks. Our eyes met briefly, but I quickly looked away, my jaw clenching. I strode past him without a word, still seething from our last encounter. I hadn’t shown up to spar with him that night. I found I just couldn’t face him. Not yet anyway. Part of me missed our training sessions, and I knew I was struggling to train properly without a sparring partner, but there was no way he would help me now, and I wasn’t going to ask him for anything. Not after the way he’d spoken to me.

Anger stirred inside me as I remembered his harsh words, his contempt for me. I should never have given in to him, to that…. insanity… that had come over me. I couldn’t think of another word for it. I hated Septimus. I always had, even when we were kids. Training with him had been a means to an end. So why had his touch set my body alight? Why had his kiss sent me spiralling into such consuming desire that I’d have allowed him to take me right then and there if he’d chosen? And why did the thought of him doing just that haunt my dreams every night?

I shook my head, trying to clear the unwelcome thoughts. I couldn't afford to be distracted, not today. My eyes scanned the ring, searching for Marcus. Instead, they locked onto the new gladiator, Tarshi.

He stood alone, as usual, the other fighters giving him a wide berth. I couldn't blame them. He was a Talfen, and after witnessing his performance in the arena two days ago, I understood their fear.

Tarshi towered over most of the other gladiators, his massive frame rippling with muscle. His black skin glistened with sweat, a stark contrast to his white hair. But it was his eyes that truly set him apart - black as night, with no visible whites. Those eyes had captivated me during the arena fight, and now they locked onto mine once again.

I felt a strange pull towards him, an inexplicable urge to approach. There was something in those alien eyes - a depth of emotion, a hint of loneliness perhaps - that resonated with me. Despite his fearsome appearance and his Talfen heritage, I couldn't help but wonder about the man behind the facade.

“Livia!" Marcus's gruff voice snapped me back to reality. "Over here. You're with Rena today."

Grateful for the distraction, I jogged over to where Marcus stood with Rena. She was several inches taller than me, with arms like tree trunks and a scar running down the side of her face. She nodded at me, her expression neutral.

"Right," Marcus said, his eyes glinting. "Let's see what you've learned. No holds barred. Fight until one of you yields or I call it."

Rena and I circled each other, sizing each other up. I knew I couldn't match her for strength, but maybe I could outmaneuver her. I watched as she twirled her heavy wooden practice sword around like it was nothing, and I shifted my own from one hand to the other as my palms started to sweat.

Rena lunged forward suddenly, her wooden sword slicing through the air. I barely managed to dodge, feeling the rush of wind as it passed inches from my face. My heart pounded in my chest as I scrambled to regain my footing.

"Too slow, little one," Rena taunted, her voice surprisingly gentle despite her fierce demeanor.

I gritted my teeth, refusing to let her words affect me. I feinted left, then darted right, aiming a quick strike at her side. But Rena was faster than she looked. She pivoted, blocking my attack with ease and countering with a powerful blow that sent shockwaves up my arm.

The fight continued, a brutal dance of wood against wood. Sweat poured down my face, stinging my eyes. My muscles screamed in protest with every movement, but I pushed through the pain. I couldn't afford to show weakness, not here, not now.

Rena pressed her advantage, raining down blows that I could barely deflect. I stumbled backward, my feet slipping in the sand. In desperation, I dropped and rolled, narrowly avoiding a strike that would have taken my head off if it had been a real sword.

As I came up, I saw an opening. Without thinking, I lunged forward, driving my shoulder into Rena's midsection. She grunted in surprise, staggering back a step. I pressed my advantage, swinging my sword in a wild arc. I saw an opening and struck. My sword connected with her side, but Rena barely flinched. She grinned, a predatory glint in her eye.

"Not bad, little one," she growled. "But you'll need more than that."

She swung again, and this time I wasn't quick enough. The wooden blade slammed into my shoulder, sending shockwaves of pain through my body. I stumbled but kept my footing.

I fought back with everything I had, but it was becoming increasingly clear that I was outmatched. Rena's skill and experience far surpassed my own, and my body was rapidly succumbing to exhaustion. I could feel my grip on my sword slipping, my vision swimming as blood and sweat mingled on my brow. Gritting my teeth, I pushed through the pain. I couldn't let this end like the fight with Cato. I wouldn't be humiliated again.

I spun right, bringing my sword up in an arc. It caught Rena across the chest, eliciting a grunt of surprise. But before I could press my advantage, she countered, her fist connecting with my jaw. Stars exploded in my vision and I tasted blood. But I refused to go down.

Blinking away the dizziness, I saw Rena's triumphant smirk. She thought she had me. Good. My chest heaved as I circled her, looking for an opening. Rena's reach gave her a huge advantage - I needed to get in close.

Steeling myself, I charged forward. Rena's blade came down in a vicious arc, but I slipped inside her guard. My shoulder slammed into her chest, and for a moment I thought I'd knocked her off balance. Then her free hand clamped around my arm like an iron vice. Before I could react, the world spun and I was flying through the air. I hit the ground hard, the impact driving the air from my lungs. Rena's wooden sword pressed against my throat.

"Yield," she growled. I glared up at her, chest heaving.

“Fine,” I muttered. She smiled, and brought her sword back, leaning down with an outstretched hand to help me to my feet.

I grasped Rena's hand, wincing as she hauled me to my feet. My body ached all over, and I could already feel bruises forming where her blows had landed. But beneath the pain, a small spark of pride flickered. I'd lost, yes, but I'd held my own against a seasoned gladiator. I hadn't embarrassed myself this time.

"Not bad, little one," Rena said, clapping me on the shoulder. I tried not to flinch at the impact. "You've got spirit, I'll give you that."

"Thanks," I muttered, still catching my breath. I glanced around, noticing the other fights had stopped. Several gladiators were watching us, including Septimus. His face was unreadable, but I thought I caught a glimmer of... something in his eyes. Approval? Concern? I looked away quickly, not wanting to dwell on it. I caught Tarshi's gaze once more. He inclined his head slightly, a gesture that felt almost like respect.

Rena passed me a water skin, and I took it gratefully, relishing the cool liquid as it soothed my parched throat. When I set it down, I turned around to see Marcus watching me, his expression unreadable.

"Your performance was impressive," he said, his voice steady, betraying no emotion.

"I lost."

"Defeat does not always define a warrior's worth," Marcus replied. "Sometimes, it is how they rise from their failures that reveals their true potential.”

I sighed. “So you want me to go away and train some more?”

“I watched your fight closely," he said. "You displayed determination, skill, and most importantly, heart. You fought with every fiber of your being, refusing to give up even as the odds were stacked against you."

"It wasn't enough," I said, unable to keep the disappointment from my voice.

"Perhaps not today," Marcus conceded, his gaze locking onto mine. "But with proper training, you could become a formidable gladiator."

"Are you offering to train me?" My breath caught in my throat as hope ignited within me.

"Only if you're willing to work harder than you ever have before," he warned, his eyes narrowing. "You will need to push beyond your limits, face your fears, and confront your weaknesses."

His words resonated deep within me, igniting a fire that had been smoldering since my family's murder. I nodded, determination etching itself across my features. "I'll do whatever it takes, but Drusus..."

"I've handled Drusus," Marcus replied, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Thank you, Marcus," I said, my voice infused with gratitude and resolve. "You won't regret this."

"See that I don't," he warned. “Now, pair back up with Rena. There’s some footwork issues we need to work on.”

I stood at the door to the arena, looking out into the dark ring, too wired to sleep. My whole body ached from the gruelling day of training, and I was covered in sand and bruises, but I couldn't remember feeling this happy since I was a child.

"Livia." I turned to see Drusus behind me. He didn't look too impressed with me.

"Dominus." I bowed my head respectfully, my eyes on the floor, as I remembered that gladiator or not, this man still owned my life.

"I see you have somehow persuaded Marcus to take you on as a gladiator in training."

"Yes, Dominus," I said, risking a glance at his face. Nope, definitely not impressed.

Drusus shook his head. "It's a stupid idea."

"With respect, Dominus," I dared. "Surely you benefit from this too? Adding a gladiator from your slave ranks must cost much less than purchasing another from the markets?"

Drusus gave me a dirty look. "It does, assuming the gladiator in question survives to fight several battles. If however, that gladiator dies during training, as I'm certain you will, it means that I'm going to have to go and purchase another slave to replace you."

He moved forward to stand next to me, gazing out into the arena. "I remember when I bought you, Livia," he said softly. "So young and fiery and so determined. It took so long for you to find your way here, and now you are one of my best slaves." He turned and ran his hand down my bare arm. "I've trained you just the way I like you, and now Marcus is taking you from me."

I didn't trust myself to answer, looking ahead as his hand moved round to cup my breast through the coarse material. He didn't seem to mind my silence, reaching down with his other hand to pull up the material of my long tunic, baring my legs.

"I'm going to miss you, Livia. I know I don't fuck the gladiators in principle, but I might have to bend the rules for you." He turned me around, and I braced my hands against the wall, my eyes still fixed on the moonlit sand just metres away.

I tensed as Drusus pressed against me from behind, his hands roaming over my body possessively. My skin crawled at his touch, but I forced myself to remain still, knowing resistance would only make things worse. This was the price of my freedom, of my chance to become a gladiator. I closed my eyes and tried to steel myself for what was to come.

"I'm going to miss your sweet little pussy, Livia," he groaned as I heard him lift his tunic. I gritted my teeth, not ready at all, but thankfully, he wasn't exactly blessed with size, and I knew from past experience that it wouldn’t hurt. I closed my eyes, and tried to go through one of the sword forms in my head as I felt the head of his cock press against me, but then a deep voice cut through the night air. "Dominus."

Drusus froze, his head snapping around to see who had interrupted. I peered past him, my heart leaping when I saw Tarshi standing there, his massive frame silhouetted in the doorway.

"What is it?" Drusus snapped, clearly irritated. “And why aren’t you in your cage?”

I frowned. I’d heard Tarshi had been sleeping in a cage like the beasts, rather than in the barracks, but I didn’t understand why. He seemed more like a man than a beast to me, but then I had led a sheltered life, and knew very little about the Talfen other than slave rumours.

Tarshi's eyes glinted in the moonlight, his gaze flicking between Drusus and me. I felt a flash of shame, acutely aware of my compromising position.

"My apologies for the interruption, Dominus. I was restless and sought fresh air." His gaze flickered to me for a moment before returning to Drusus. "I didn't realize you were... occupied. Marcus sent me to fetch you. There's been an incident in the slave quarters."

Drusus cursed, pulling away from me abruptly. I stumbled, catching myself against the wall as I tugged my tunic back down.

"This had better be important," Drusus growled, fastening his robes. He glared at me. "We'll finish this later."

As Drusus stormed off, Tarshi remained, his dark eyes fixed on me. I straightened, trying to regain some dignity.

"Are you alright?" he asked softly, surprising me with his concern.

I nodded stiffly. "I'm fine. Thank you for... interrupting."

Tarshi's expression was unreadable. "There is no incident," he said after a moment. "I lied."

My eyes widened. "You... why?"

He shrugged, an oddly human gesture from such an imposing figure. "You looked... uncomfortable."

I let out a bitter laugh. "That's one way to put it." I studied him curiously. "Why do you care?"

Tarshi was silent for a long moment. "I have seen enough suffering," he said finally.

“He’ll have you flogged for lying,” I said, studying the beast in front of me.

Tarshi's expression remained impassive. "I have endured worse."

I studied him, intrigued by this strange, alien creature who had come to my aid.

“You shouldn't risk yourself for me. I'm nobody."

"You are somebody," Tarshi said quietly. "We all are."

"Thank you," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion.

Tarshi nodded, then glanced over his shoulder. "You should go. Drusus will return soon, and it would be best if you weren't here."

I hesitated, suddenly reluctant to leave. "Will you be alright?"

A ghost of a smile crossed Tarshi's face. "I have survived worse, little warrior. Go."

I turned to leave, but paused. "Tarshi... why do they keep you caged?"

His expression darkened. "They fear what they do not understand. And they are right to fear me. As should you."

I looked up at him, then reached out and laid my hand on his bare arm. Whatever the rumour about skin like stone or like snakes, it felt human enough for me.

“I don’t fear you. I fear for you.”

He looked down at my hand on his arm, and I withdrew it, worried I’d offended him.

“I’ll see you in the ring, Tarshi. Good night.”

He merely grunted as I walked away.