Gladiator Heart

by Alyssa Morgan

  She laughed nervously. Gaius was more than disappointed. “We’ll have plenty of time together once we’re wed.”

  “Right you are, dear cousin.” Crispus scanned the crowd of people gathered around the caged gladiators with a detached curiosity. “In the meantime, I want you to accompany me to the games if you wish to attend. You shouldn’t come here alone.”

  “Yes, of course I shall.” She didn’t dare argue with him. It was a blatant show of disrespect for her to be at the games on her own, and he’d caught her in the act. He could do worse than make her sit with him in the future.

  “If you’re done here, I’ll bring you home with me.”

  So much for going to see Vorenus to collect on her bet. She waved a farewell to Rufus and Lucia standing off in the distance and followed her cousin out to his carriage. Arguing with Crispus was not worth the trouble it would bring, and she didn’t mind returning to the palace. After this awful day, she wanted a bath and a soft bed where she could drift off to sleep and let the rest of the world fall away.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Three agonizing days dragged by with a slowness Valeria couldn’t fathom. Her cousin and Septima hardly left their rooms and she hadn’t heard a word about Gaius, nor had she heard from him. The three people who tormented her the most had been strangely absent from her life, and it had started to alarm her, until Crispus informed her they would be attending a party at the home of Legatus Dias.

  The Legatus at least knew how to throw a party. His villa wasn’t far from the palace and it held just as many luxuries. Fine furnishings, lavish décor, a large number of rooms and a maze of outdoor gardens with fountains and statues.

  The main party was located in the center atrium because it was the largest room. Tables were laid out with breads, salads, cheese, fruit, nuts, a variety of olives and cold meats. Servants moved through the throngs of partygoers, keeping their cups filled with spiced wine. A group of musicians played for a troupe of exotic dancing girls with gold dust painted on their naked bodies and tinkling bells around their wrists and ankles.

  Valeria’s nerves were hardly calmed as the night continued, no matter how much wine she consumed. There was no sign of Gaius, and still no word from him. It was like he’d vanished into thin air, but she knew she wasn’t that lucky. Dead or alive, he’d be back to haunt her. The terrifying dreams she’d been having ensured she got no rest. Whether asleep or awake, she saw Gaius get up from the floor, his face covered in blood, his hands reaching out for her, closing around her neck and choking her. No amount of wine could make the vision disappear.

  As the revelry carried on into the night, she relaxed into the festive mood and spent time catching up with her friends and listening to their gossip as they filled her in on what she’d missed while she was away. All their idle talk and tales of intrigue meant nothing to her and eventually her mind went numb and she only pretended to be listening. She needed a better distraction from her ghastly thoughts.

  The Legatus called everyone around the center of the room and proudly announced the highlight of the party. A batch of gladiators was brought into the villa, and among them were Tristan and Angus. The warriors had been well-bathed and their muscled bodies were covered only by white loincloths. The guests all circled around in excitement to watch them spar and wrestle with each other. It was a rare treat to be so up close and personal with the gladiators.

  Valeria couldn’t take her eyes off Tristan. He was a magnificent fighter, his every move graceful and efficient. She saw just how strong and powerful he was as he fought and grappled with the other gladiators and bested them all. She’d once been his prisoner, completely helpless against him, and he hadn’t used his strength to violate her like Gaius had. Tristan was a good man, and he deserved his freedom. She wished the Gods would lend her a little more help.

  When the show was over, the gladiators were shackled and put on display at the far side of the room so people could get a close look at them and touch them. She thought of going over to speak to Tristan, but what would she say to him? He’d made it clear he didn’t want her help, that he wanted her to leave him alone, so she thought it best to keep her distance and went back to pretending she was enjoying the party.

  It was only a short time later that her friend Octavia rushed up to her and grabbed her hand, pulling her along. “Come on, we have to hurry.”

  “Hurry where?” Valeria took a sip of her wine. She was finally starting to get drunk. Thank the Gods for small miracles.

  Octavia led her down a darkened hallway, her colorful silk skirts trailing along the floor behind her. Marina ran along after them. She’d been dancing for most of the night and her brown hair was coming loose from its upswept style and stray strands curled around her petite face.

  “They’re going to mate one of the gladiators,” she said, out of breath.

  Valeria almost choked on her wine. “They’re going to what?”

  “You heard me.” Marina gave a devilish smile. “Maybe you’d better stay behind. We wouldn’t want to offend your virgin eyes.”

  A rush of heat speared through her as she envisioned bronzed muscles, covered in sweat, straining and flexing in the pursuit of sexual pleasure. What would it be like to watch people having sex?

  Exciting.

  Valeria was a virgin no more. She was a wanton harlot. And it was all Tristan’s fault. He’d awakened these desires in her and left her wanting.

  “The Legatus was called away on business,” Octavia said, “so his wife Sabina wants to play. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t let you girls in on the secret?”

  Marina brought her hand to her mouth and giggled playfully. “You haven’t seen anything until you’ve watched a gladiator fuck a woman. It’s the most amazing thing you’ll ever witness.”

  “Gods, listen to the way you speak,” Valeria scolded the girl, while suppressing her own mirthful smile. “You’re depraved.”

  “That’s what my mother keeps telling me.”

  “Are you two coming, or not?” Octavia called in a loud whisper from the end of the hallway.

  They hurried to catch up with her. Valeria knew what she was about to do was indecent and improper, shameless even, but none of that could make her turn back. The thought of watching one of the hardened gladiators taking a woman aroused her beyond words. Every cell in her body was on fire. She abandoned her cup of wine on a hall table as their group moved with swift strides down the deserted hallway. The buzz from the wine, along with her growing curiosity, ensured she was not going to miss this show.

  As they followed Octavia down another darkened hallway, Septima appeared out of the shadows. Valeria cringed and drew back. Here was the one bitch in the world who could ruin a good time for her.

  “Going somewhere?” Septima stepped in front of them. She repositioned her jeweled headpiece and smoothed out her silken skirts before her dark eyes landed back on their group.

  “Just exploring.” Octavia pushed past her with a confident stride and continued on.

  Marina silently followed, giving her a nervous look, and Valeria moved to go after them, but Septima caught her by the arm, stopping her as she tried to pass.

  Her dark eyes snapped with fire. “I hope there’s nothing going on that I’ll have to report to Crispus.”

  For a long moment Valeria looked back at her, pinning the woman with a repugnant stare. “When it comes to my cousin, you’re only good for one thing.” She jerked her arm free of her hold. “And from what I hear, you’re not even very good at that.”

  The look of shock and outrageon Septima’s face filled Valeria with a sudden audacity.

  “Maybe you should be more concerned with finding a way to remedy that, rather than chasing around after me and my friends.” She raced down the dark hallway to catch up with Octavia and Marina, leaving Septima behind in a fuming rage.

  “She’ll be out for your blood now,” Octavia remarked dryly.

  “She already is.” Valeria knew she m
ight pay dearly for those harsh words to Septima in the near future, but she didn’t care. She had worse things to worry about.

  They came to a door that was slightly open and a dim light poured out into the dark hallway. Octavia slipped into the room, Marina followed, then Valeria. An intimate group of men and women stood around a bed in the center of the room, whispering amongst themselves. When Valeria edged her way to the front, she saw a slave girl spread out naked on the bed. She had a white sash covering her eyes and her wrists were tied to the bed by ropes. The girl was young and pretty with fair skin and dark, ebony hair. On the bed between her creamy thighs, a slave with dark skin moved his fingers over the girl’s sex, causing her to moan and thrash about as he brought her close to climax and then denied her finish. It appeared he was playing with her, keeping her on the edge for a purpose.

  The Legatus’s wife, Sabina, entered the room and dismissed the male slave with a curt nod of her head, while behind her, Tristan stepped forward in all his male glory. His wide shoulders, firm, sculpted muscles and long, lean legs glistened with oil. He was completely naked and his impressive manhood caught the attention of all the women in the room, and some of the men as well.

  Valeria’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. She shouldn’t be here. How could she watch this happen? Of all the gladiators, why did it have to be Tristan they wanted? He was hers, and she didn’t want to share him with anyone. She suddenly wished it was her tied to that bed. How she longed to have him again.

  But Tristan didn’t want her. He made no secret about it. No matter his feelings, it didn’t change the way she felt about him. Her heart raced, her stomach fluttered, her thoughts became muddled. He was the most handsome man she’d ever beheld. And brave. Strong. He fought with honor. He’d made her laugh, he’d taken her to heights of unimaginable pleasure. How would she ever let him go?

  Tristan swore he wouldn’t become a whore for Rome, but he would be forced into the role anyway. When the master gave the order, the slave must obey, or face the consequences. He scanned the richly attired nobles in the room, surprised to see such a large audience. His gaze landed on Valeria and he frowned. What was she doing here?

  She stared back at him, kicking up her chin with a haughty air. Was this kind of display something she was used to seeing? He’d thought her sweet and rather innocent when he’d first found her, but now he wasn’t so certain. She was a Roman at heart after all. No different from the rest of them.

  The Legatus’s wife sat on the bed next to the restrained slave girl. The girl’s legs were spread wide in invitation. Tristan tried not to look there, but the woman started stroking the glistening folds of the girl’s sex as she looked up at him to note his reaction.

  He had none.

  How could he with Valeria so close?

  Despite all his doubts about her, she was the one woman he wanted, the one he dreamed about.

  “Zara will be honored to receive you, gladiator.”

  He glanced to where the girl’s hands were tied to the bed. “Is that why she’s restrained?”

  Everything about this city and its people was wrong. Gods, how he wanted to leave Rome.

  “It’s more for our entertainment,” the Legatus’s wife informed him.

  She reached out and wrapped her hand around his manhood, then began to stroke him, up and down, trying to bring forth a reaction. He clenched his jaw, not wanting to feel any pleasure from her touch, but the woman knew how to arouse a man.

  “That’s better.” She rose from the bed. “Give us a performance, gladiator.” She looked him over from head to toe, a wicked smile spreading over her thin lips. “We’re all aware of your stamina in the arena. Now is the chance to prove your other skills.”

  The woman moved away and took a place standing beside Valeria. He quickly averted his gaze to avoid looking at her. Her blue eyes were full of lust and longing, just like all the others in the room. For some reason, he’d expected more from her, and it left him disappointed.

  “What are you waiting for, gladiator?” the woman berated him. “Take her.”

  Tristan hesitated. He’d never been so humiliated in his life. At least as a gladiator he felt he had some purpose. A whore had none.

  “Do it!” the woman ordered. “Fuck her!”

  He looked down at the naked slave girl, bound and most likely drugged into submission. The one thing he would never lose to Rome was his soul. They could beat him, starve him, force him to fight for his life, but this he would not do.

  “You will do as I command!” the Legatus’s wife shouted out, startling him with her fury.

  He cast the woman a cold stare but remained silent.

  “I’m giving you one last chance to perform for us, or you will suffer for your insolence, slave.”

  Slave.

  These people had no idea how great Tristan had once been. He was the commander of three armies. He had honor. Only Valeria was aware of how far he’d fallen, and that she seemed to care at all gave him the courage to do what he did next.

  Valeria couldn’t watch Tristan with another woman. Even though he was being forced into the act she would still feel like she’d lost him. Watching Tristan’s humiliation—watching him do any of this—was wrong, and suddenly she felt ashamed. This wasn’t her. Valeria wasn’t like these people. She didn’t enjoy using others for cheap pleasures, and couldn’t stand to watch any longer. She felt as if she’d deceived Tristan simply by being present for the depravity he was being forced into. She knew he didn’t want to take that slave girl any more than she wanted to see him do it. He was too proud, and too good a man to let others use him in so base a manner.

  The walls of the room closed in around her and she felt hot, suffocated. She needed to breathe. Valeria tore out of the room as fast as she could and ran down the dark, deserted hallways, headed back to the party. Let the others think she was silly and immature. Perhaps she was.

  Or perhaps she loved Tristan more than she knew and couldn’t bear to see him lost to her forever. He’d been hers once, for a brief moment in time, in a cold, frozen land far from the comforts of home, and he’d been perfect. That was the memory she wanted to keep, and not some sullied depravity.

  Back in the main atrium, the party had turned just as perverse as what was going on in the dark corners of the villa. The dancers were now involved in an erotic display, their shimmering, golden bodies writhing together in one big mass of arms and legs, fingers and tongues. Valeria was besieged on all sides by grasping hands, moans of pleasure, bodies slick with sweat and the scent of lust. She closed her eyes and saw Tristan as her mind swept her back to those passionate nights spent in his arms. It was impossible to escape the sexual satisfaction permeating the room, overwhelming her senses, filling her with a desire of her own. The world began to spin away from her. She had to get out of this place.

  Just when she thought she might faint, a set of strong arms locked around her waist from behind, startling her back to reality.

  “There you are, my love.”

  Gaius!

  Her entire body seized with panic and her heart beat rapidly against her chest as fear quickly overrode her lust. She was afraid to even move.

  “I’ve been looking for you.” He kissed her cheek and trailed his fingers dangerously over her throat.

  Valeria wriggled in his arms, trying to loosen his menacing embrace. He was alive. She wasn’t sure whether to be afraid, or relieved. What would he do to her?

  He released his hold, and before she could get away, he whirled her around to face him. She’d never seen him look so frightening before. His green eyes glittered with suppressed rage, and when he smiled, he looked half mad. Taking her by the hand in a painfully tight grip, he dragged her off to a private corner of the room behind a panel of silk draperies.

  Once isolated and alone, he pulled her roughly against him and crushed his mouth down over hers, holding the back of her head so he could force his tongue between her lips and plunder her mouth. He’d ki
ssed her fiercely before, but this kiss was painful, punishing, and she gave a protesting cry and turned away.

  He locked his arms around her held her tight against his body. “You escaped me the other day.” His tone was laced with malice, his face a mask of rage. “But you will have to submit to me eventually.”

  A frightened cry escaped her and hot tears ran freely down her face. She felt like a coward for crying, but she couldn’t control it. Gaius struck true fear into her heart. His hold on her was hard and crushing and she struggled to breathe. How horribly would he punish her?

  “I’ve decided it would be more romantic to wait until our wedding night to take you.” He lowered his head and spoke at her ear. “And believe me, I will make you pay for the injury you’ve caused me. I’ll tie you down if I have to, and I’ll fuck you so hard and so long you’ll be begging me to stop.”

  Deep sobs racked her as the fearful images built in her mind, and she gripped handfuls of his toga, holding on to him and burying her face against his chest as tears of despair flowed from her.

  “Please,” she begged him. “Please, don’t make me marry you. Just let me go.”

  He took her chin in his firm grip and lifted her to face him. “Such lovely tears.” He kissed the wet tracks running down her cheek. “I shall get more from you before I’m through.”

  With a violent shove, he threw her away from him and disappeared on the other side of the colorful draperies. Valeria caught herself against the wall and sagged back against the cold marble. She hugged her arms around her middle in an attempt to anchor herself, but she was lost, with no hope of being saved. Giving in to her despair, she sank down to the floor and cried out the rest of her hopeless tears.

  If she married Gaius, her life would be over.

  Valeria wasn’t ready to die.

  Chapter Twenty

  The wobbly, dilapidated stairs made for a precarious climb to the second floor of Vorenus’s tavern. Valeria thanked the Gods when she got to the top without breaking her neck. Sunlight filtered in through the tall windows and it was quiet enough upstairs to hear the activity on the street outside.