Page 61 of Thawed Gladiator Thrax

“No,” I gasp, rattling the bars in frustration. “This wasn’t here before.”

Skye’s eyes are wide with fear. “What do we do now?”

The sound of our pursuers grows louder. We have seconds, at most.

“This way.” I grab Skye’s hand and pull her down a different corridor.

We race through the winding passages, my mind working furiously to recall the layout. This tunnel should lead us…

Suddenly, we burst into blinding sunlight. We’re in the arena itself, the vast expanse of sand stretching out before us. The Colosseum rises around us, a skeletal shadow of its former glory.

For a moment, I’m frozen, overwhelmed by memories. This is where I fought, where I bled, where I thought I would die. The roar of long-gone crowds echoes in my mind.

“Thrax!” Skye’s urgent voice snaps me back to the present. “They’re coming!”

I turn to see Roth and his two henchmen emerging from the tunnel, their faces twisted with anger. Roth’s eye and cheek are swelling, the man Skye hit has a welt the shape of the sword’s point on the side of his face and his ear is trickling blood. We’re trapped, exposed, in the middle of the arena with nowhere to run.

The wooden sword feels light and useless in my hand. It’s not much against a gun, but it’s all we have.

I push Skye behind me, raising the sword. My heart pounds, adrenaline coursing through my veins. This arena has seen countless battles over the centuries. Now, it will witness one more.

“Stay back,” I growl at Roth and his men.

Roth’s laugh is cold, cruel. “Or what, gladiator? You’ll fight us with atoy?”

But as he steps forward, I see a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. He may have the weapons of this time, but this is my world. My arena. My battle to win.

The sun beats down on us, the sand hot beneath our feet. In this moment, past and present collide. I am both the frightened slave I once was and the man I’ve become—a man with something to fight for, someone to protect.

There are parties of tourists dotted in the stands. Skye tries to shout at them for help, but they’re either too far away to hear her or think we’re just playacting.

I grip the wooden sword tighter, my gaze focused on Roth. As he and his men spread out, circling us like predators, I brace myself.

The battle for our future is about to begin here on the sands where I once fought for my life.

And this time, as I have in every previous fight, I intend to win. Not just for me, but for Skye.

Chapter Forty-Seven

Thrax

The sun beats down mercilessly, just as it did two thousand years ago. The sand beneath my feet is different—softer, cleaner—but the feeling is the same. My heart hammers, my palms sweat, and every sense is heightened as I face Roth and his men.

“Last chance,” Roth sneers. “Come quietly, and we won’t harm your pretty little girlfriend.” He looks pointedly at my pitiful weapon and scoffs.

Rage boils in my veins at his threat. I grip the wooden sword tighter, my knuckles turning white. “You won’t touch her,” I growl.

One of Roth’s men lunges forward. I react on instinct, my body remembering every move from countless past battles. The wooden sword may not be sharp, but it’s solid. It connects with the man’s arm with a satisfying smack. He howls in pain, stumbling back.

“Thrax!” Skye’s voice rings out in warning.

I spin just in time to dodge the second man’s attack. He’s as big as me, perhaps as strong, but I’m faster. Years of training and fighting for my life give me an edge he can’t match. I duck underhis swing, ramming my shoulder into his gut, then punching his collarbone so hard it cracks with a satisfying snap. He goes down hard, whining in pain and clutching the broken bone.

But I’ve forgotten Roth. A sharp pain explodes in my solar plexus as he lands a solid punch. I stagger, so winded I can’t breathe.

“Not so tough now, are you, gladiator?” Roth taunts.

Before I can recover, Skye, my sweet, brilliant Skye, charges at Roth with a ferocity that startles us both. She may have only had a few lessons with the sword, but what she lacks in skill she makes up for in determination.

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