Page 15

14

T he underground pens always smelled of damp stone and copper. I held my oil lamp higher as I descended the worn steps, careful to avoid the patches of green-black mold that crept up the walls. The guards never came down here this late at night once the animals had been secured. That made it the perfect place to be alone with my thoughts.

Water dripped somewhere in the darkness, a steady rhythm that matched my careful footsteps. The first cells held the regular beasts - wolves and bears meant for the arena games. Most slept, though one wolf raised its head to watch me pass, yellow eyes reflecting my lamplight. The bear in the next cell was new, still angry at its captivity. It lunged at the bars as I passed, but I barely flinched. I'd grown used to the violence of this place.

The deeper cells held stranger creatures, like the four mirage cats curled up the corner like kittens, their claws could slice a man in half. Or the giant skorpi that never seemed to sleep. I’ll admit, those things creeped me out, and I wasn't looking forward to facing one of those in the arena. But it was the last cell I came for. The largest, deepest pen, where the dragon waited. Its ebony black scales caught my lamplight as I approached, throwing scattered reflections across the walls like oily rainbows. The heavy iron collar around its neck clinked as it lifted its head, acknowledging my presence. I settled cross-legged before the bars, setting my lamp beside me.

"Hello, friend," I whispered. This had become our nightly ritual over the past weeks. At first, the dragon had stayed at the back of its cell, watching me with those impossibly blue eyes. But each night I'd moved a little closer, spoken a little longer, until now it would come to the bars to greet me.

"I did something foolish today," I told it, reaching through the bars. The dragon watched my hand, as it always did, before moving close enough for me to touch its scales. They were hot beneath my fingers, smoother than polished marble. "I kissed Marcus. Or he kissed me. Both, maybe."

The dragon tilted its giant head, allowing me to scratch behind its horns where I'd learned it liked best.

"I shouldn't have. It changes everything, doesn't it? Makes it real." I sighed, remembering the way Marcus's hands had felt on my waist, how gentle he'd been despite his strength. The dragon's eye fixed on me, bright as a sapphire. I'd never seen anything like those eyes - they seemed to hold depths I couldn't fathom.

"Marcus is different," I continued, my fingers tracing the ridges along the dragon's jaw. "When he holds me, I forget everything else. I forget what I am, what I've promised to do." My voice caught. "Is that wrong? To want to forget, just for a moment?"

The dragon shifted closer, pressing its head against the bars. The collar scraped against iron, and anger flared in my chest. "They shouldn't keep you chained like this. Any of you." I reached for the collar, my fingers finding the heavy bolt that kept it closed. The dragon allowed my touch there too, though it never had before. "One day, I'll find a way to free you. I promise."

But promises were dangerous things. I'd made another promise, long ago, as I watched my brother’s body fall to the ground. I'd sworn to find the men who killed him, to make them pay. To discover why they'd destroyed our village, murdered our parents.

"Sometimes I think about staying here," I admitted, dropping my hand from the collar. "Finding happiness where I can. Marcus makes me believe it's possible. When he looks at me..." I closed my eyes, remembering the way he'd held me in the training yard, like I was precious, like I mattered. "But then I remember Tarus. I remember my promise. And I hate myself for even considering choosing my own happiness over justice for my family."

The dragon made a low sound, almost like a purr, and pressed closer to the bars. I leaned my forehead against them, feeling the warmth radiating from its scales.

"And then there's Septimus. He makes everything more complicated. When he kissed me... it should have been so wrong. He’s like my brother. And I hate him. I’ve always hated him, even before. But that kiss... it was like fire burning through my body, and I've never felt anything like it. I wanted him so badly, I think I would have let him take me if he'd tried, but he made it very clear he didn't want me."

I sighed. "I shouldn't care, but for some reason I do."

The dragon's tongue flicked out, touching my fingers where they gripped the bars. It was such a gentle gesture from such a powerful creature. "And now he watches me with Marcus, and there's something in his eyes I don't understand. He's never cared before when Drusus sends me to other gladiators. Never showed any sign that it bothered him. But with Marcus..." I trailed off, remembering the way Septimus had looked at us during training today, his jaw tight, his eyes dark with something that looked almost like pain.

"Maybe it's because Marcus is different. The others, they were just... transactions. Survival. But Marcus..." I pressed my cheek against the warm bars, feeling the dragon's breath against my skin. "Marcus makes me feel like maybe I could be more than just a slave. More than just a weapon for revenge. When he touches me, when he looks at me like I'm something precious... I start to believe him."

The dragon shifted, curling its long body around to press against the bars where I sat. In the flickering lamplight, its scales seemed to absorb the darkness itself. "But that's dangerous, isn't it? To believe in something more? Everyone I've ever loved has been taken from me. My parents. Tarus." My voice cracked. "Even Septimus, in his way. He died in that village too, the boy he used to be. Sometimes I look at him and can't recognize him at all."

I reached through the bars again, running my fingers along the dragon's jaw. "And now I'm falling for Marcus, and it terrifies me. Because what if I let myself love him? What if I choose him over my revenge? What kind of person does that make me?" The tears came then, hot and unwanted. "Tarus died in front of me. He died believing I would avenge him. How can I dishonor that by finding happiness with one of them?"

The dragon made that low purring sound again, pressing its head harder against the bars. "But gods help me, I want to. When Marcus kissed me today, when he held me like I was something precious... I wanted to forget everything else. I wanted to be just a woman kissing a man she's falling in love with. Not a slave. Not an orphan. Not a sister sworn to vengeance."

I wiped roughly at my eyes. "And then there's Septimus, making everything even more confused. That kiss... it haunts me. The way he looked at me afterward, like he was afraid of what he'd done. Like he was afraid of me." I laughed bitterly. "Maybe he should be. I'm afraid of myself sometimes, of what I'm becoming. Of what I might choose."

The dragon's eye met mine, that impossible blue seeming to pierce straight through me. "I don't know what to do anymore. Every path feels wrong. If I choose Marcus, if I let myself love him, I betray Tarus. If I choose vengeance, I lose any chance at happiness. And Septimus..." I closed my eyes. "I don't even know what Septimus is to me anymore. He doesn’t understand why I need to avenge my family, and I cannot understand why he doesn’t feel it too. They took his parents away from him, his older sister, his little brother. Why doesn’t he hate those soldiers like me? He's buried his own grief so deep and he thinks I should do the same."

The dragon shifted, curling its long body around to press against the bars where I sat, as if trying to offer comfort. Its scales radiated heat, chasing away the chill of the underground air. We sat like that for a long time, my fingers tracing patterns on its hide while tears dried on my cheeks.

Finally, I stood, knowing I needed to return before I was missed. "Goodnight, friend," I whispered, touching its snout one last time. The dragon blinked slowly, a gesture that always seemed deliberate, meaningful.

I gathered my lamp and made my way back through the darkness. Near the stairs, I paused at Tarshi's cell. He was curled in the corner on straw like the other creatures. The Talfen were treated worse than slaves, worse than animals. As if being neither human nor beast made them less than both.

Looking at him now, I was struck by his strange grace, even in sleep. There was something contained about him, like a storm waiting to break. Even the other gladiators kept their distance, as if they sensed something in him that set him apart. The trainers were always especially cruel to him, as if they feared what he might become if they showed him even a moment of kindness. Marcus was the only one who treated him fairly, but then he was a good man.

Sometimes I wondered if that was why Drusus kept him here, in the beast pens, instead of with the other gladiators. As if he belonged more with the dragon and the other creatures than with humans. It seemed wrong, the way they treated him - like he was something dangerous that needed to be caged. Maybe he was. When I’d touched his arm, the way his skin seemed to burn from beneath had startled me, but what had disturbed me more was that since that moment, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it, about how smooth his skin had felt, about whether every inch of his body burned like that. Of how it had kindled a fire in my chest, that seemed to pull me towards him whenever he was around. I wondered if he felt it too.

I sighed quietly, trying not to disturb him, and made my way up the steps, heading back towards my room in the darkness. The stone corridors were silent except for the soft pad of my feet and the distant drip of water. I was so lost in thought, I almost walked straight into Septimus.

He caught my shoulders, steadying me, but then snatched his hands away as if burned. In the dim light from the wall sconces, his face was all shadows and angles, but I could see the muscle working in his jaw. The corridor felt suddenly too narrow, too close.

"What are you doing down here?" His voice was low, barely above a whisper, but I could hear the tension in it. He took a deliberate step back, maintaining the distance between us.

"I couldn't sleep." I tried to step around him, but he moved to block my path, careful not to touch me again.

"In the beast pens?" His eyes searched my face, and something dark flickered in their depths. "With Marcus, perhaps?"

The accusation in his voice made my temper flare. "What I do is none of your concern." I lifted my chin, defiant.

"Isn't it?" He leaned closer, then caught himself, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "You think I don't see the way he looks at you? The way you look at him?"

"Like you looked at me that night?" The words slipped out before I could stop them. His whole body went rigid, and I saw him swallow hard.

"That was a mistake." His voice was rough, but he didn't move away. I could feel the heat radiating from his body, could see the rapid pulse at his throat.

"Was it?" I moved closer, anger and something else making me reckless. His breath hitched, but he held his ground. "Is that why you've been watching us? Because it was such a mistake?"

"Livia..." It was half warning, half plea. His hands rose, hovering near my shoulders before dropping again.

"Or maybe you're just jealous." I knew I was pushing too far, but I couldn't stop. The need to make him feel something, anything, drove me forward until we were almost touching. "Maybe it kills you to see someone else touch me, to know someone else might—"

His control snapped. His hands tangled in my hair as his mouth crashed into mine, cutting off my words. This kiss wasn't gentle like Marcus's had been. It was all fury and desperation, teeth and tongue and need. And gods help me, I kissed him back just as fiercely, my fingers digging into his shoulders, my body arching into his.

He backed me against the wall, pressing me into the cold stone as his mouth devoured mine. One hand slid down to grip my hip, pulling me harder against him, and I gasped at the feel of him, hard and wanting, against my stomach. His other hand stayed tangled in my hair, tilting my head back as his lips traced a burning path down my throat.

"This is why," he growled against my skin. "This is why I can't be near you. Can't watch you with him." His teeth grazed my pulse point and I shuddered. "Because every time I see you, I want this."

"Then take it," I whispered, my hands sliding under his shirt to feel the hot skin beneath. "Take me."

He jerked back as if I'd struck him, breathing hard. His eyes were wild, pupils blown wide with desire. "Is that what you wanted?" he demanded, voice ragged. "To prove I want you?"

"I want to understand why you push me away when I know you feel this too." My voice shook. My body ached where he'd pressed against me, craving his touch again. "Why you act like you hate me one moment and then kiss me like that the next."

"I don't hate you, Livia." His laugh was bitter, cruel. "You'd have to matter more for me to hate you. You just..." He raked his fingers through his already disheveled hair. "You infuriate me. Walking around here like you own the place, playing with fire, not caring who gets burned."

The words hit harder than any physical blow. I was still breathless from his kiss, my lips swollen, and now he acted like I meant nothing.

"Is that what you tell yourself?" My voice came out raw. "That I don't matter? I don’t believe you. You care about me, Septimus, I know you do. We’re like family. What we’ve been through together-”

“Why do you always bring it up?” he demanded. “Why can’t you just let it go, Livia? It’s in the past.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “How can you say that? How can you just forget what they did as if it was nothing? As if our families meant nothing?”

He stepped forward, sliding his hands into my hair and gripping my head, forcing me to look up at him as he pushed me back against the stone wall. His face was inches from mine, his breath coming fast and hard. "Because they're dead, Livia! They're dead and we're alive, and I mean to stay that way!"

The heat of his body pressed against mine, his grip painful but somehow thrilling. I could feel his heart hammering against my chest, see the conflict raging in his eyes - desire warring with frustration.

"This is our life now," he said, his voice dropping lower, rougher. "Here, in this ludus. Training. Fighting. Surviving. That's what matters." His thumb traced unconsciously over my collarbone, sending shivers down my spine. "Not some impossible revenge fantasy."

"Impossible?" I challenged, trying to ignore how his touch made my skin burn. "You don't think I can do it?"

He leaned closer, his lips almost brushing my ear. "I think you're going to get yourself killed chasing ghosts." His words were harsh but his hands gentle, sliding down my arms. "And for what? It won't bring them back."

"This isn't about bringing them back." I turned my face toward his, our mouths nearly touching. "This is about justice."

"Justice?" His laugh ghosted across my lips. "You think you're going to find justice in the Empire? You think you can take on the whole system alone?" His fingers dug into my hips, pulling me harder against him. "Wake up, Livia. This isn't some hero's tale. This is real life, and in real life, the small people don't win."

"I'm not small anymore," I whispered against his mouth. "And I'm not alone. I have Marcus—"

He gave a cold laugh. "Marcus? You think he’s going to help you topple the Empire?"

I stared at him, my mind struggling to process his words.

“The Empire? What are you talking about?”

“The Imperial soldiers who razed our village were under direct orders from the Emperor to do so.”

“How do you know that?” I demanded.

His eyes burned into mine, and I saw the fury that smouldered inside… the fury he buried so deep down.

“When we first came, and I was a house slave, there was a night Drusus entertained officers from the barracks. You were too young to be called for the entertainment, but I wasn’t. While I was on my knees for one of the officers, they discussed how the Talfen raids had been building, how they’d been given orders to stamp out rebels who supported those demons within the empire itself. How the Emperor had given orders to... deal with those rebels.”

"Orders? What orders? We were just a farming village."

"Were we?" His hands tightened painfully on my hips. "Is that what you really think? That they just happened to choose our village at random?"

Something in his voice made my blood run cold. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Gods, you're still so naive." He released me suddenly, stepping back. The loss of his heat left me shivering. "You think you want revenge? You don't even know what you're seeking revenge for."

"Then tell me!" I grabbed his shirt, yanking him back. "Stop dancing around it and tell me what you know!"

His face twisted with something like pain. "Your parents..." He stopped, jaw clenching.

"What about my parents?" When he didn't answer, I shook him. "Damn you, Septimus, tell me!"

"They were traitors!" The words exploded from him like he couldn't hold them back anymore. "Your precious parents were part of some underground movement. Peace-seekers." He spat the word like it was poison. "They were trying to make contact with the Talfen."

The world tilted sideways. "No," I whispered. "You're lying."

"I heard my parents talking the night before. Your parents didn't believe what the Empire told us about the war, about the Talfen. They arranged a meeting with some of their leaders." His voice was cold now, clinical. "The garrison found out."

"The whole village..." My voice failed me as understanding dawned.

"Was held accountable for their treason." His eyes were hard as steel. "Your parents' misguided sympathy for those monsters got my family killed. Got everyone killed."

I staggered back until I hit the wall, my legs barely holding me up. "You've known this all along?"

“Of course I've known." His voice shook with barely contained rage. "I've lived with it every day since. Watching you plot your revenge, knowing it was your own blood that brought destruction down on us all."

"That can't be right." My head was spinning. "My parents would never—"

"Never what? Never betray the Empire?" He advanced on me again, his face twisted. "Never sympathize with those demons? Those unnatural creatures that should never have existed?"

"You don't know what you're talking about," I said, but my voice wavered.

"Don't I?" He slammed his palm against the wall beside my head, making me flinch. "I was there when they came to our village. I saw what the Talfen did to the soldiers who tried to stop them escaping. The way they tore them apart with their bare hands, their eyes glowing like hellfire." His voice dropped to a venomous whisper. "They're abominations, Livia. The Empire should hunt them all down and put them to death. Your parents were fools to think otherwise."

"If what you're saying is true..." I swallowed hard. "If they really were trying to make peace..."

"Peace?" He laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. "There can be no peace with their kind. The Empire knows this. That's why they gave the order. Your parents' treason threatened everything."

"So they murdered children?" My voice rose. "They killed entire families? How does that make them any better than the monsters you claim the Talfen to be?"

"Sometimes fire must be fought with fire." His face was cold, distant. "The Empire did what was necessary."

"And you believe that?" I searched his face, looking for any trace of the boy I'd grown up with. "You actually believe our families deserved to die because my parents wanted peace?"

"Of course not, but what I believe doesn't matter." He stepped back, straightening his shoulders. "What matters is that you know the truth now. Your parents brought this on themselves. On all of us." His eyes met mine, hard and unforgiving. "So go ahead, seek your revenge. But know that every death that day, including my family's, lies at their feet."

He turned and strode away, leaving me alone in the shadowy corridor. I slid down the wall, my legs unable to hold me anymore, setting the lamp carefully on the ground next to me. I stared at the flickering flame. If what Septimus said was true... if my parents had really been trying to make peace...

Then someone had given that order. Someone had decided an entire village deserved to die for the crime of seeking peace. Someone had sent soldiers to murder children in their beds, to cut down anyone who tried to run. Someone had turned Septimus into this cold, hate-filled stranger. The Emperor.

The rage that filled me then was different from before - colder, deeper. The Emperor might be the closest guarded man in the Empire, he might be powerful and protected, but I swore to myself, I would find a way to get close to him and learn why he thought peace was so dangerous it was worth killing for. And then I would make him pay - not just for my family now, but for everyone who had died that day.

I pushed myself to my feet, my hands steady despite the storm inside me. Septimus was wrong. This wasn't just about revenge anymore. This was about justice. And I would have it, no matter the cost. Through blood and steel, I would forge myself into the instrument of the Emperor’s destruction.