Page 26 of Thawed Gladiator Thrax

I can’t speak, overcome with emotion. My fingers tremble as I reach up to touch the newly shaped ear. It feels strange, unfamiliar, yet undeniably mine.

Dr. Schmid throws the used bandages into a red bag. “The nurse and I will give you two a moment.”

As soon as the door closes behind them, Skye wraps her arms around me. “How do you feel?” she asks, her voice muffled against my chest.

“I… I don’t know,” I admit, still staring at my reflection. “It’s such a small thing, really. Just an ear. Many of my comrades lost so much more than that… their lives, limbs, horrible disfigurements.”

Skye pulls back, cupping my face in her hands. “But this has defined you in some way—in your own mind—for most of your life. Now it’s one more reminder that you can chart your own course from here. This doesn’t change who you are inside. But if it helps you feel more comfortable, more confident, then I’m thrilled for you.”

Her words wash over me, soothing the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside. For the first time in my long, strange life, I look at myself and don’t immediately feel shame or disgust. It’s a small change physically, but the impact on my soul is boundless.

“Thank you,” I whisper. “For being here, for supporting me through this, for caring enough to take the chance to mention it to me.”

She smiles, her eyes full of warmth. “Always,” she promises. “This is just the beginning, Thrax. You’re healing, body, mind, and soul, one step at a time.”

As I look at my reflection once more, I realize she’s right. This isn’t just about fixing my ear. It’s about my identity, about seeing myself through new eyes. It’s part of my second chance at life, and each day I believe more and more that I deserve it.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Skye

The door to Laura’s office clicks shut behind me, sealing us in a bubble of privacy. Laura and I made an appointment to meet for breakfast. She has a spread of coffee and pastries on half of her desk and papers stacked high on the other.

Laura’s smile is warm but tired as she gestures for me to take a seat. The room feels tense, though I can’t put my finger on why.

“How’s your father doing?” I ask, settling into the plush chair across from her desk.

Laura’s shoulders relax slightly. “Much better, thank you. The doctors say he’s recovering well from the myocardial infarction—a heart attack. It was touch and go for a while, but he’s a fighter. He had a bypass and is recovering well.”

“A fighter, just like his daughter,” I tease, earning a genuine laugh.

We chat about her trip, the conversation drifting to the compound they’re planning in Missouri. “It’ll be a sanctuary,” Laura explains, her face brightening with enthusiasm. “A place for all the men to adjust before joining the modern world. We’re thinking about educational facilities since most slaves are illiterate,therapy spaces, therapy animals, maybe even a small arena for them to exercise and spar, to ease the transition.”

“That sounds amazing,” I agree, my mind already picturing Thrax in this safe haven. “Speaking of transitions… how do you think Thrax is doing?”

Laura’s smile turns knowing. “I think he’s doing remarkably well, thanks in no small part to you. Your growing feelings for each other haven’t exactly been subtle.”

Heat rises to my cheeks. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only to anyone with eyes,” she teases. “But I think it’s wonderful. Thrax seems like a genuinely gentle soul despite everything he’s been through. You’re good for each other.”

I’m about to respond when I notice a flicker of worry cross Laura’s face. She glances toward the door, then back at me.

When she launches into a story about traveling the back roads of Missouri, I can tell she’s just filling the time, not wanting to talk about what’s really on her mind.

“Laura?” I interrupt. “Is something bothering you?”

Her gaze darts from mine as the corners of her lips turn down. I don’t ask another question, but I sit in silence, which seems to encourage her to fill in the gap.

Finally, she asks, “Have you noticed the increased security lately?”

Frowning, I shake my head. “No, I hadn’t. Distracted, I guess. Is everything okay?”

Laura sighs, her earlier enthusiasm evaporating. “Right after Varro and I discovered the thirteen other men frozen in the trench in the sea, as I was arranging for them to be retrieved, I was also gathering resources for the help we would need to thaw them and treat them when—if—they revived. Because of the need for secrecy, I only gave bits and pieces of info to thepeople I was vetting to work on the project. Enough to whet their appetite without giving away the startling truth.”

She reaches for a cruller and puts it on her plate but doesn’t take a bite.

“I approached many doctors and scientists who didn’t want to touch the project, one of whom was Dr. Victor Roth. He asked more questions than most, then turned down the job.”

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