Page 27 of Thawed Gladiator Thrax

A knot forms in my stomach. “Okay… so what’s changed?”

“He’s reached out to me,” Laura says, her voice dropping to just above a whisper. “His email was full of veiled questions, but… Skye, I think he knows more than he should. He keeps referring to the men—which Inevermentioned. He actually calls them ‘specimens’.”

Thinking of anyone calling Varro and Thrax specimens gives me the creeps. It’s dehumanizing.

“Although he hasn’t exactly said it out loud, he wants access to them. This could be disastrous.”

The knot in my stomach tightens. “But how could he know? And what does he want?”

Laura’s hands tremble as she pulls up an email on her computer. “I don’t know for certain, but his language… it’s clear he sees the men as research subjects, not people. He talks about ‘unlocking the secrets of their preservation’ and ‘advancing human knowledge’.”

“That’s horrible,” I breathe, thinking of Thrax and the other men still waiting to be revived. “What are you going to do?”

Laura’s eyes meet mine, and the fear I see there chills me. “I don’t know what’s going to happen next, Skye. We’ve already increased security, and I’m doing a deeper dive on all the staff’s background checks. You never know, there could be a leak from the inside. All I know is that I’m afraid… I’m terrified it’s going to put the men in danger. All of them.”

The weight of her words hangs heavy in the air between us. My mind races with possibilities, each more frightening than the last. What if he exposes their existence to the world before they’re ready? What if Roth makes a political move to take over the project? I’d never say a word to Laura, but having an archaeologist in charge of what is now basically a medical and sociological project is a vulnerability that a nefarious person could take advantage of.

Laura must see the worry on my face, because she adds, “The good thing is, I trust Keller implicitly. Our new head of security has military experience and an impressive track record. He’s already implementing enhanced protocols to protect the facility and is drilling down into everyone’s background checks.”

As I leave Laura’s office, despite her confidence in the security team, my steps feel heavier, my heart racing with newfound anxiety. The sanctuary of the hospital suddenly seems far more fragile and uncertain than it was when I went to sleep last night.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Thrax

A jumble of clattering dishes and muffled conversations surround me at breakfast. I sit across from Skye, her warm brown eyes fixed on mine. Magically, the rest of the world fades away.

She’s been fidgeting with her fork for the past few minutes, pushing her food around her plate, clearly working up to something.

“Thrax.” Her voice is tight. Perhaps a hint of nerves? “I wanted to talk to you about… dating.”

My brow furrows in confusion. “Dating? You mean… like fruit?”

A small laugh escapes her lips, the sound warming my chest. “No, not that kind of date. I mean dating as in… courtship, I guess you could say. How two people get to know each other… romantically.”

The idea feels foreign. Romance. What an odd concept. As a slave, no matter how kindly Fortuna looked upon me, romance would never be in my future. It’s thrilling to even think about it. I want to know more. “How does this ‘dating’ work?”

Skye’s eyes light up, and she launches into an explanation. “Well, typically, one person asks another person out on a date. It could be dinner, a movie, or a walk in the park. The idea is to spend time together, just the two of you, to see if you’re compatible as you have fun.”

Before I can respond, she stammers, “I realize, we sorta, kinda skipped to the romance part with the kissing and we do spend a lot of time together working on the translation program and we share meals in the cafeteria but I want this to be special, fun.”

My mind reels, trying to grasp this unfamiliar concept. “And this is how people in your time find a mate?”

She nods, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. “Often, yes. It’s a way to get to know someone before committing to a more serious relationship.”

“How strange,” I muse, thinking back to my time. “In Rome, marriages were often arranged for political or financial reasons. Affection rarely factored into it, at least not for the upper classes.”

Skye leans forward, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. “What about for people like you? Gladiators and… well, regular people?”

“For slaves like me, marriage wasn’t an option. Some of the more successful gladiators might earn their freedom and marry, but it was rare. Or a gladiator who earned his master a lot of coin might be gifted a wife from one of the household slaves. That meant she shouldn’t be shared with another gladiator unless the dominus decreed it. She was still the master’s property after all, and what happened in the main house was out of a gladiator’s control. Mostly, we found comfort where we could, in fleeting moments when we fought well and were allowed ascorta.”

Her expression softens, a mixture of sadness and something else—perhaps pity?—crossing her face. “That sounds… lonely.”

I shrug, trying to lighten the mood. “It was what it was. We didn’t know any different, so we neverhoped for more.”

That’s a lie, though. At night, alone in my bunk, I dreamed of a partner who wanted to hear my words, though I seldom shared them, who I could whisper to, braid her hair, seek comfort in her body, and give her pleasure.

Skye nods, then takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders as though she’s preparing to enter the arena against a worthy foe. “Well, speaking of dating… I was wondering if… if you’d like to go on a date with me? Tonight?”

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