Page 50 of Claiming Sarah

The crowd fell silent for a flash, before the voices of thousands shouted in cheers. Clothed servant girls came to collect me and rushed me back to the bathhouse. Giggling and groping, they were more interested in me this time. I was a champion. But I was also angry. Someone had tried to cost me my life. The steam had loosened my throat enough that I could growl, “Leave.”

One of the girl’s eyes widened. “But we’re—”

“Now!” I roared at them.

They scurried away.

In their absence, I rested in the hot tub. Steam filled the bathhouse. I cleaned myself and tried to make sense of anything that had just happened. It was quiet—as quiet as a bathhouse beneath a full arena could be—and the solitude was good for me to get my head back on straight and my wits about me.

After my bath, I grabbed a towel and heard, “May I come in?”

Grace.

I glared at her. “Are you going to try to kill me again?”

“No,” she said in a soft voice.

“Then you may enter,” I said begrudgingly.

She was dressed this time and her head hung low. “I am to take you to Rex.”

I dried off with the towel. “You knew you poisoned me, right?”

She nodded once. “And you survived.”

“Will the poison kill me?” I demanded to know.

“No. It will wear away with time.”

“Do you feel any guilt for what you did to me?” I asked angrily as I wrapped the towel around my hips. “To the fighters who died because you poisoned them?”

She half-shrugged, while unabashedly eyeing my broad, muscular chest. “I selected those who were not going to survive the fight. Better a quick death, no?”

My gaze narrowed. “You were being merciful?”

She lifted her chin and met my eyes. “I am allowed few mercies in this place. I take the chance when I can.”

“I did not appreciate your so-called mercy.” Still furious about it, I couldn’t accept what she thought of as a kindness, considering it had nearly gotten me murdered. But a moral debate felt useless in the bathhouse. “Take me to him.”

After I dressed, Grace led me through the labyrinthine tunnels and stairwells of the arena, until we reached the door to the tower box. Quietly, she said, “Be respectful and you may live.”

I bared my teeth at her. “Be gone before I get my speed back andyoumay live.”

She held the door open, and I walked through. The room was enormous, and the far wall was missing—which was a balcony tosee the fights. On the right, a kitchen staffed by several servants. On the left, Rex Terian and…my consort?

I gasped in shock at seeing her there with him. “Sarah?”What had I missed?

She looked blissfully happy getting a shoulder massage from a strapping servant while another fed her grapes. When she saw me, she grinned and popped out of her seat to run to me for a kiss. I tasted whickler on her lips. No wonder she was so relaxed. She was drunk. Under the influence of alcohol, and even more disconcerting, under the influence of Rex Terian.

She beamed up at me. “I’m so proud of you. You were amazing. I had no idea you could fight like that.”

Worry trickled through me and I framed her jaw in my hands, searching her face for signs of any harm, but only found eyes glazed with intoxication. “Are you okay?” I asked gruffly.

“I’m much better now that you’re safe.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward a ghost of a man. “Come meet Rex.”

“Meetme?” Rex asked with a lascivious grin. “We’ve already met.”

“Oh?” Sarah asked brightly, as she sat back in her seat and her servants resumed their work of massaging her shoulders and feeding her fruit. “You didn’t tell me that.”

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