Page 59 of Thawed Gladiator Thrax

Skye cries out first, her body tensing as pleasure overtakes her. The sight of her coming undone is enough to send me over, following her into blissful oblivion.

For long moments, we stay like that, panting, pressed together under the spray. Eventually, Skye’s feet touch the ground again, but we don’t let go. Instead, we hold each other close, trading soft kisses as the water washes away the last traces of our spontaneous foam fight.

As we finally step out of the shower, wrapping ourselves in fluffy towels, Skye’s eyes meet mine. There’s a softness there, a warmth that makes my chest tighten with emotions I’m still learning to name.

“You know,” she says with a grin, “I think I like your hair just fine the way it is. But maybe we should keep some shaving cream handy, just in case.”

Laughter bubbles up, free and easy. “As you wish,” comes my reply, pulling her close for one more kiss. “Though next time, maybe we skip the foam and go straight to the shower?”

Her answering laugh is all the reply needed. We use our wet towels to clean up the foamy, slippery mess. As we finish preparing for the day, stealing glances and trading playful touches, one thing becomes clear. Whatever challenges lie ahead—ancient ruins or modern technology—facing them together makes everything a little brighter.

Chapter Forty-Six

Thrax

As we dress, Skye discusses our plans. “I think we should go to the Colosseum first.” Her tone is careful. “Get the hardest part over with.”

My stomach tightens at the thought, but I nod. She’s right. Better to face it head-on.

“It’ll be okay,” I tell myself as much as her. “My life now is better than I could have ever dreamed back then.”

Skye’s expression softens, my words reassuring her.

The taxi drops us a few blocks from the Colosseum at my request, so I can approach it at my own pace. Our walk is filled with sights and sounds that still amaze me. Even though it is still early, there are dozens of tourists milling about, tour guides setting up their stalls and street performers warming up. Vendors line the streets, selling all manner of goods. Skye stops at one cart, her eyes lighting up.

“Look, Thrax! Wooden swords!” She picks up two sturdygladii, grinning. “These look just like the ones you and Varro practiced with.”

I take one, marveling at its weight and balance. It’s remarkably similar to the training swords I once used in theludusso many years ago. “They’re very good copies,” I admit, a mix of emotions swirling in my chest as I hold a sword just blocks from the sands of the Colosseum.

“I know we have the ones Hans made,” Skye says, “but these would be perfect for pictures at the Colosseum. We could send the pics to Varro and Laura, let them see that we’re having fun. Okay?”

Her thoughtfulness touches me. “Of course, my love. If it makes you happy.” Will calling her my love ever stop giving me a thrill? When I glance and see her holding back a little grin, I know my words pleased her, too.

As we approach the massive structure, my steps slow. It looks different—the marble is gone from the outer walls, whole sections are crumbling or gone altogether. Missing are the bright banners and crowds I remember. It even smells different, car fumes instead of unwashed bodies. But it’s unmistakably the Colosseum.

It’s still early in the morning, so there are only a few people wandering on their own like us and one group heading in with a man herding them like sheep while commenting on the history of the Colosseum.

“You okay?” Skye asks softly, concern tightening her features.

I take a deep breath, reminding myself of all the good in my current life. “Yes. Let’s go.”

Skye purchases our tickets and we enter through what was once the gladiators’ gate. For a moment, the present fades away. I’m back in my old life, heart pounding as I prepare to fight. The roar of the crowd, the smell of blood and sand…

“Thrax?” Skye’s voice pulls me back. Her hand is warm in mine, grounding me.

Shaking off the memory, I reassure her. “I’m here. I’m okay.”

We make our way inside, Skye snapping pictures with her phone. She hands me one of the wooden swords, striking a dramatic pose. “Come on, let’s take some selfies!”

I’m glad of her cheery and easy nature. If she was consumed with worry about me, my nerves would already be torn to shreds. Instead, she’s actually making this fun!

Her laughter echoes off the ancient stones as we playfully spar with the wooden swords. It’s lighthearted and fun, so different from the brutal reality this place once held for me. I find myself genuinely smiling, caught up in the moment as I let old memories fade to the back of my mind.

“Excuse me.” A man’s English statement interrupts our laughter. “Would you like me to take a picture of you both?”

Skye beams at him. “That would be great, thanks.”

Before he takes Skye’s phone, something changes. The man’s friendly smile disappears, replaced by a hard look that puts me instantly on edge. His hand moves to his pocket, and suddenly he’s pointing something at us through the fabric—a weapon, I realize with a jolt.

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