Page 28

27

I pulled my tunic over my head and stretched out over the straw, grimacing as I felt the tight skin on my back pull and twinge. That flogging had laid me out for weeks, and I admitted it had been an effective punishment. I would definitely think twice before acting the same way again. It wasn't just the pain or the humiliation, it was knowing every time I went into the arena since, I had been compromised, weakened. It was still healing, but I wasn't back to full movement, and if I was completely honest with myself, I was surprised I'd survived the first two rounds of the games. A weight settled on my heart as I thought about what was coming tomorrow evening.

The final games. Drusus's grande finale. I'd seen the schedule posted in the training yard - four rounds, each worse than the last, culminating in the horror of the beast that awaited the victors - the dragon. Even now, I could hear the beast huffing and shifting in its pen down the corridor, the sound sending ice through my veins despite the warm night air. I'd heard what those creatures could do. We all had heard the stories about the dragon elites, the mighty warriors that tamed the beasts and rode them into battle, slaughtering and burning as they went. I had thought the tales exaggerated, but I'd seen that creature up close and witnessed for myself the way it moved, the intelligence in those eyes - this wasn't some dumb beast to be tricked or outmaneuvered. It was a killer, bred and trained for the arena, and tomorrow it would be unleashed on us.

If we survived that long.

The celebrations drifting down from above seemed almost obscene. Yes, we'd made it to the finals, but how many had died today? How many more would fall tomorrow? I closed my eyes, trying to find some peace in the darkness, but all I could see were the faces of the dead, the ones who'd fought beside us and wouldn't see another sunrise.

A different sound caught my attention - lighter footsteps, familiar ones that made my heart skip despite my dark thoughts. I didn't open my eyes right away, savoring the moment of anticipation as Livia slipped into my cell like a shadow.

"You should be celebrating with the others," I said, unable to keep the smile from my voice as I finally looked at her. She was carrying something - a small bottle that caught the torchlight, and her presence alone seemed to push back the shadows of my fears.

"Turn around," she commanded, that imperious tone that always amused me. "I brought almond oil for your back."

The first touch of her hands, slick with oil, made me shiver. She worked in silence for a while, her strong fingers finding each knot of tension, each badly-healed scar. In these moments, she reminded me of my mother, who had been a healer before the wars came. But thinking of Livia as anything maternal felt wrong in ways I couldn't explain.

"Marcus is getting his freedom," she said finally, working a particularly stubborn knot in my shoulder. "If we win tomorrow. Drusus promised."

"Good." I meant it. "He's earned it. Man knows his worth."

"He wants to buy land," she continued, her hands never stopping their gentle work. "Start a farm, find a wife. He'll still help with training the new fighters, but he wants... a normal life, I suppose."

I hummed in agreement. "It's a good dream for a free man." Simple words, but they carried weight. A free man. Something I would never truly be, no matter what papers declared.

Her hands stilled. "Is that what you want? A farm, a family?"

The question caught me off guard. I stayed silent, considering. Behind me, I felt her waiting, patient but curious.

"Maybe once," I finally admitted. "But I've seen too much of how this empire treats those who try to live quietly. Especially those like me." I didn't need to explain further. We both knew what I meant - half-breeds, mongrels, those who didn't fit neatly into Rome's ordered world. "I think I'll always be a fighter. It's what I know. What I'm good at."

"You're good at many things," she protested, her hands resuming their work. "And you're a good man, whatever they say."

I couldn't help but laugh, though there was no real humour in it. "Not good enough to be accepted. Not good enough to be allowed a wife or family." Sexual relations with a human was already forbidden. My mother had kept me hidden for a good while, and living on the very edge of the empire had helped, but closer to the cities I knew mixed children were often simply killed at birth. It was a horrific practice, but I had been lucky. My mother had loved me. What would the alternative have been for other half breed children? It made me sick that was even a consideration, and my old hatred for the empire rose up in my chest. I shoved the feeling down, concentrating instead on the feel of Livia's touch on my skin.

"That's not true. You could find somewhere far away, somewhere quiet..." she murmured, though there was no conviction in her voice. I turned to face her.

"Would you come with me then? Leave all this behind, find some quiet corner of the empire to plant crops and raise children?"

She hesitated, and I saw the answer in her eyes before she could speak. I laughed again, gentler this time, and reached up to cup her face in my hand.

"I'm jesting with you, Livia. I would never ask such a thing of you."

"Why not?" she asked quietly.

I studied her beautiful face. "Because if you care for someone, you shouldn't ask for something that the other person cannot give."

Her deep brown eyes met mine, and I saw tears in them, though they didn't fall.

"Marcus wants me to go with him," she admitted. I felt a cold heaviness settle in my chest, but I tried not to react openly.

"He does?"

She nodded. "It was part of his deal with Drusus. He won the tournament, and got his freedom, money to buy his land, and... me."

"So you're leaving?" I pulled back, suddenly feeling a distance between us that I'd never felt before. "Are you and he..."

"We are... but it's not..." she sighed. "Tarshi, we're slaves, all of us. We could die tomorrow in the arena, or next week. A future with a home and family was never going to happen for any of us, and it's not something I ever wanted. I just spend time with the people I care about, people I want to be with. How could I want anything more knowing what we are?"

I nodded, understanding. Her wanting Marcus didn't mean she wanted me any less, and realistically, I would never be able to earn my freedom. I could never give her this chance Marcus was offering.

"You should go with him," I said.

Her eyes flew up to mine. "But you just said..."

"He can keep you safe, keep you away from the arena and death and the men here that just take what they want." My mind drifted back to the day I'd seen her with Drusus, that flat acceptance on her face as he prepared to take her against her will. I never wanted to see that again. If losing her to Marcus meant she was safe, then I would urge her to go.

"But what about what I want? None of you seem very concerned with that," she snapped, eyes narrowing.

"You don't want freedom and safety?" I asked. "What do you want?"

She took a deep breath. "Freedom, yes, safety... maybe later. What I really wanted is vengeance."

I blinked. "Vengeance? Against who?"

"Against those who killed my family, who razed my village to the ground. the soldiers that did it, and the one who gave the orders. And I want to know why." She glared up at me, her eyes burning with a fire I recognised from the arena. "I want them dead, Tarshi. All of them. I want their blood on my hands, and I won't ever get that playing the little wife on a farm somewhere near here."

She was crazy, that much was clear. To even find out who was responsible would be hard enough, but to hunt down those involved would be near impossible, but that look on her face of sheer determination made my heart swell with pride and love for her. She was one Hades of a woman. And she had chosen me to share her body with, her confidences with.

Her eyes dropped from my face, her fire fading away.

"I'm sorry, I can't be that for you. Or for Marcus."

"Never apologize for who you are." I brushed my thumb across her cheek. "Do you know what I see when I look at you? I see a dragon in a cage - beautiful, fierce, untamed. They think they've captured you, think they can control you with their arena walls and their rules and their traditions. But they don't understand what you are."

Her eyes were wide in the torchlight, reflecting the flames like captured stars. "And what am I?"

"Fire given form," I said softly. "They can cage your body, but they can never cage your spirit. Someday, when the moment is right, you'll spread your wings and soar, and all their chains and cages will mean nothing."

"And you?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. "Will you soar with me?"

Instead of answering, I pulled her closer and kissed her. She tasted of wine and hope and freedom - things I'd thought lost to me forever until she came into my life. Her hands slid up my chest, careful of the fresh bruises, and tangled in my hair.

When we finally parted, I rested my forehead against hers. "I'm not meant to soar, little dragon. I'm earthbound, made for fighting in the dirt and mud. But I'll watch you rise, and that will be enough."

"It doesn't have to be that way," she insisted, fierce even in tenderness. "We could-"

"Shh." I kissed her again, softly. "Tonight is for celebrating tomorrow's victory, not planning impossible futures. Let me hold you, let me love you, and let tomorrow bring what it will."

She settled against my chest, her warmth seeping into my bones, soothing aches I hadn't even known I carried. I stroked her hair, marveling at how something so simple could feel so profound.

"You're wrong, you know," she murmured against my skin. "About being earthbound. You soar in your own way, every time you fight. Every time you show them that their hatred can't touch your honor, your kindness."

I didn't answer, just held her closer. Outside, I could hear the celebrations continuing - shouts and laughter and music drifting down from the villa. But here in the quiet darkness, with my dragon in my arms, I had all the celebration I needed. She sighed, and I could feel her still tense, still thinking. I shifted position, gently pulling Livia's tunic over her head.

"Your turn," I murmured, guiding her to lie face-down on the straw.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Just close your eyes and trust me," I said, reaching for the bottle of oil she'd brought. I tipped some into my hands, rubbing them together to warm them. I started at her shoulders, working the tension from muscles that felt like knotted rope beneath my fingers. Gradually, I felt her begin to relax, though not completely - never completely. Like the dragon down the corridor, she was always alert, always ready.

Her skin told stories beneath my hands. A thin scar across her left shoulder blade - training accident, three years ago. The remnants of a whip mark curving around her ribs - punishment for some minor infraction. But between the marks of violence, she was soft as silk, pale in the torchlight except where the sun had kissed her skin. I worked my way down her back, admiring how the muscles shifted beneath my touch. She was built for fighting - strong, quick, lethal - but there was softness too, in the curve of her hips, the gentle swell of her stomach. The contrast fascinated me. Like everything else about her, she defied simple categorization.

A knot in her lower back made her tense. I worked it carefully, using my thumbs to ease the tension. "Breathe," I reminded her softly, and felt her exhale, forcing herself to relax. "That's it."

Her breathing deepened as I continued, becoming slow and regular. The worry lines around her eyes softened, though they didn't completely disappear. They never did. But for now, at least, she was here with me, allowing herself this moment of peace.

I traced the line of her spine, feeling each vertebra, marveling at how something so strong could also be so delicate. Like the rest of her - fierce and gentle, hard and soft, warrior and woman. My hands moved lower, working the muscles of her thighs where they were tight from fighting. A small sound escaped her - pleasure or pain, I couldn't tell.

"Too hard?" I asked, easing my pressure.

She shook her head against the straw. "Perfect," she murmured, voice heavy with relaxation.

I smiled, continuing my work. The oil made her skin gleam in the torchlight, highlighting every curve and plane. Another scar on her calf - this one I remembered. She'd gotten it protecting a younger fighter during a practice bout gone wrong. Always protecting others, my little dragon, even at a cost to herself. I began to work my way back up her other leg, kneading the taut muscles. As I reached the curve of her hip, Livia let out a soft sigh that sent a shiver through me. I hesitated, my fingers tracing lazy circles on her skin.

"Don't stop," she murmured, her voice husky.

Desire pooled in my belly as I continued my exploration. I ran my hands over the swell of her buttocks, admiring their perfect roundness. Livia shifted slightly, parting her legs in clear invitation. My cock hardened at the sight of her, so wet, and pink and inviting.

Gently, I let my fingers brush against her pussy.

She was already slick with arousal, and a small moan escaped her lips as I slid a finger inside her. Her ass lifted in the air, and I slid another finger inside, loving the sound she made as I did so. She was so hot, so tight around me. I began to move my fingers, curling them to hit that spot that made her whole body shudder.

I was new to all this, but I had yet to understand how some men took women like they were nothing more than their own hand. I’d seen Cato in the dining hall, seen the way he’d push a slave down onto the table, lift their tunic and force his way in. I could tell by the smug look on his face that it made him feel powerful, and I almost felt sorry for him. It hadn’t taken me long to realise that this was the ultimate power. Not to dominate by strength, but to see her come apart under the gentlest touch, to hear her moan my name, to beg for my cock rather than to endure it.

Sometimes I was more forceful, when she begged me to take her hard and fast, to drive everything from her mind except the reality of us together in that moment, but she didn’t need that tonight. Tonight I just wanted to worship her.

I leaned down, trailing kisses along her spine as my fingers continued their slow exploration. Livia arched into my touch, a soft whimper escaping her lips.

"Tarshi," she breathed, her voice thick with need. "Please..."

I knew what she wanted, but I wasn't ready to give it to her yet. Instead, I withdrew my fingers, eliciting a frustrated groan from her. Before she could protest further, I gently turned her over onto her back.

Her eyes met mine, dark with desire. I took a moment to drink in the sight of her - flushed skin, heaving chest, lips parted in anticipation. She was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

Slowly, reverently, I kissed my way down her body. I lingered at her breasts, teasing each nipple with my tongue until they were hard peaks. Her hands rested on my shoulders, urging me lower. I obliged, trailing kisses down her stomach, across her hips. When I finally reached the apex of her thighs, I paused, looking up at her. Her eyes were half-closed, her breath coming in short gasps.

"Look at me," I murmured. She obeyed, her gaze locking with mine as I lowered my mouth to her pussy.

The first swipe of my tongue made her cry out, her back arching off the straw. I took my time, sliding my fingers slowly in and out, my tongue moving in slow, deliberate circles. Livia's breath came faster, her hips rocking against my hand, and I knew she was close. I took her just a little further, before pulling back.

Livia gasped as my fingers stilled inside her, and her eyes flew open. I leaned down to take one of her nipples in my mouth, sucking gently, feeling it harden against my tongue. Her hips pushed up, craving the release she’d been so near.

"You're torturing me," she breathed.

I smiled against her skin. "The best kind of torture," I murmured, moving to her other breast, before resuming my journey back down between her legs. I was obsessed with her. The sight, the scent, the taste of her, I savoured all as my tongue danced around her clit.

“Tarshi, Tarshi please…” she moaned, her hips bucking against my mouth.

“What do you want?” I asked.

“I want to come, please, Tarshi, let me come…”

I slid my fingers from her body, and she gave a small noise of frustration, but I wasn’t done. I slid my arms under her thighs, lifting her up to my mouth as I began to feast on her properly. No longer teasing, I darted my tongue inside her before moving up to suck on her clit. She cried out and I looked down, seeing her body tilted up towards me, so open and vulnerable. My cock throbbed, but I wanted her to come at least once before I took her.

I focused all my attention on pleasuring her, my tongue circling her clit as Livia's moans grew louder, her body trembling as she approached her peak, then with a cry that echoed off the stone walls, Livia came undone. Her back arched, her whole body shuddering as waves of pleasure crashed over her. I didn't let up, lapping at her softly to draw it out.

“Tarshi, oh gods… Tarshi!”

I didn’t stop, teasing her gently over and over again, relentless. She jerked up against my mouth, sensitive but craving more, and I obliged, holding her in place until finally her back arched violently, her fingers clawing at the straw beneath her. I reached down, clapping my hand over her mouth feeling her scream against it as her body came undone.

I lowered her trembling body to the straw, and leaned down to press a soft kiss to her mouth. She gasped for breath, eyes wide as she looked up at me. I watched as her eyes closed and her head tipped back, as I began to sink inside her, loving every moment of her tight, wet heat. I sat back on my knees, and lifted one of her legs over my shoulder, using my weight to drive my cock deeper inside her. Her back arched and she gasped as she opened her eyes.

I watched Livia's face as I slowly pushed deeper inside her, savouring every sound. Livia's hands gripped my arms, her nails digging into my skin as I thrust deeper.

"More," she urged, her hips rising to meet mine. "Please, I need..."

I understood. After the intensity of her orgasms, she craved something harder, faster. I obliged, picking up the pace, driving into her with long, powerful strokes. I lifted her other leg, holding them both over my shoulders as I drove down into her pussy. The change in angle made us both cry out. I could feel every inch of her, could feel the way she clenched around me with each thrust. I drove deeper and deeper each time, until she took all of me. Her arms reached above her head, tilting her perfect breasts upwards, and I groaned at the sight.

"Harder," she panted. "Please, Tarshi..."

I gripped her hips tighter, pulling her against me as I thrust even harder.

Livia's eyes were wild, her hair tangled in the straw beneath her. She looked like some primal goddess, fierce and beautiful in her pleasure.

"Yes," she hissed, her back arching. "Like that, don't stop..."

I could feel my own release building, a fire spreading through my veins. But I was determined to make her come again before I lost control. I shifted my angle slightly, grinding against her clit with each thrust. Livia cried out, her walls clenching around me.

"That's it," I growled, feeling her begin to tremble. "Let go, little dragon. I've got you."

Her eyes locked with mine, blazing with an intensity that took my breath away. Then she was coming, her body arching off the straw as waves of pleasure crashed over her. I kept moving, drawing out her orgasm as long as I could. The sight of her coming undone, combined with the exquisite tightness of her pussy, pushed me over the edge. With a roar, I buried myself deep inside her as my own release hit.

For several moments, we stayed locked together, trembling and gasping. Slowly, I lowered Livia's legs from my shoulders, careful not to hurt her. I collapsed beside her on the straw, pulling her close against my chest. Her skin was slick with sweat, her breath coming in short pants against my neck.

"Are you alright?" I murmured, stroking her hair.

She nodded, nuzzling closer. "More than alright," she whispered. "That was..."

"Incredible," I finished for her.

We lay in silence for a while, our breathing gradually slowing. Outside, the sounds of celebration had died down. She’d need to leave soon, to sleep and regain her energy. Tomorrow we'd face whatever horrors Drusus had planned for us in the arena. But for now, in this moment, there was only us.