"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 snoutone 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."
