Page 43 of Thawed Gladiator Thrax

He nods. He’s been doing a great job of sitting still, but now his eyes flash wide, giving away just how excited he is. I slip my earbud in and activate both devices through the app.

“Okay,” I say, my voice louder than it needs to be due to my excitement. “Say something.”

His face lights up as he obviously understood what I just said.

Thrax takes a deep breath, then speaks. “Haec res est incredibilis,Skye. Gratias tibi ago ex imo corde.”

The translation comes through my earbud smoothly: “This is incredible, Skye. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

A laugh bubbles up from my chest, pure joy spilling over. “It works! Oh my god, it actually works!”

Thrax’s face breaks into a wide grin and he touches the device with something akin to reverence. “I can understand you perfectly,” he says in Latin, the translation flowing seamlessly into my ear. “It’s like magic.”

For the next hour, we chat back and forth, testing the limits of the device. Since it’s using the software I developed, we know the Latin pronunciations still leave something to be desired, and it struggles with idioms and many technical terms, but overall, it’s a resounding success. The ability to speak freely, without the need for phones or computers between us, feels liberating.

As our excitement settles into a comfortable glow, Thrax’s expression turns thoughtful. “Skye,” he says, reaching for the piece of wood he was working on earlier. “I have something for you, too.”

Curiosity piqued, I watch as he holds out his hand, uncurling his fingers to reveal a small, intricately carved wooden pendant. It’s a delicate representation of a dolphin, its body curved gracefully as if in mid-leap.

“Oh, Thrax,” I breathe, taking the pendant carefully. “It’s beautiful.” It’s much more detailed than the phallus, and smooth as glass. “Why a dolphin?”

He smiles softly, a hint of shyness in his expression. “In my time, dolphins were seen as protectors of sailors—sacred guardians—guiding lost ships to safety. You’ve been my guide in this strange new world, my protector. I wanted to give you something to show my gratitude.”

His gaze falls to the floor when he says, “It won’t hurt my feelings if you take that phallus off. To be honest, it makes me feel bad every time I look at it because it reminds me of how foolish I was and how I hurt your feelings, even though I never intended any harm.”

How can this man own my heart after just knowing me for a handful of weeks? I don’t know, but he’s so sweet, thoughtful, and remarkably able to express vulnerable feelings many men would never admit to.

Hot tears tremble at the corners of my eyes. The thought he’s put into this gift, the hours of work to create something so meaningful, overwhelms me. “I love it,” I say, my voice thick with emotion. “Will you put it on me?”

Thrax nods, taking the pendant, standing behind me, and fastening it around my neck. His fingers brush against my skin, making me shiver. He leans to the ear that doesn’t have the translator and whispers,“Docuisti me cor habuisse et nunc te fatebor.”*

He plants the sweetest, warmest, breathiest kiss behind my ear as I wonder what he said. I’m not sure I need to know. I can imagine a thousand lovely sentences that will forever keep me warm at night.

When he’s done, I turn to face him, one hand clutching the dolphin.

The intensity in his gaze makes my breath catch. Slowly, telegraphing my intentions, I lean in. Our lips meet in a kiss that’s soft and sweet, full of promise and unspoken feelings.

When we part, I rest my forehead against his chest, savoring the moment.

Finally, I can’t contain my urge to ask, “Is it a secret, what you whispered a moment ago?”

His mouth opens, then he clamps his lips shut with the oddest, sweetest look on his face.

“You tell me, Skye. What do you wish I’d said?”

I manage to keep my mouth from dropping open. Men in this century do not play such sweet courting games. I pause for so long, he says, “Never mind. You don’t have to say.”

Perhaps it’s his offer to rescind the question that allows me to answer—though I don’t have the courage to hold onto his searing gaze.

“I wish you’d said that… that you care for me.” I pause, having a lively internal debate, as I wonder if I should throw caution to the wind and say more. What the heck. This is the type of relationship I’ve dreamed of since I first became interested in boys, one where I could share my heart and soul with another human. “And that you’ve never had feelings as deep and sincere for anyone else.”

He lifts me by my hips and twirls me, taking care not to bash either of us into the bed. “That’s exactly what I said, Skye. Exactly.”

He settles on the bed with me on his lap, my hip grazing his stomach. Then this huge mountain of a man, this gladiator from another time, rocks me back and forth like a baby. He sings to me, his voice so deep it vibrates through me. His words are a jumble of things he must make up as he goes along.

Did I just think I was the one who risked my vulnerable heart by asking for what I wanted? Because this man is spilling his soul to me.

“So beautiful… my heart is so tender for you… the moon and the stars above are pale next to your light… even the flowers on thePalatine Hill aren’t as pretty as you…” He’s not stopping, just pouring the most beautiful, soulful thoughts out to me until every muscle, cell, and fiber of my body relaxes against him.

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