Page 7 of Thawed Gladiator: Cassius

I’ll be able to fully immerse myself in the work. And Cassius… I’ll be able to give him the consistent support he needs.

I start mentally planning my move. This isn’t an ending after all—it’s a new beginning.

And it all starts tomorrow.

Chapter Six

Cassius

My presence silences the usual morning chatter as I stride across the yard. A blur of black and white darts between my legs—Dominus, Thrax and Skye’s pet goat, on his morning rounds of the property. The little menace has become an irritating amusement to me and all my comrades. He’ll climb on anything and everything and will eat my hair if I don’t stay vigilant.

The morning sun is already as bright as Apollo’s chariot at zenith as I make my way to the corral. My stomach is coiled with dread. I start equine therapy today. Dr. Reeves said it would be helpful. Although I’m not sure how riding a horse can help what’s wrong with my brain, my team tells me it may help with my balance issues and maybe even my memory loss.

A woman is standing by the fence, her back to me. Her hair, the color of honey in the sun, is pulled into a tail at the top of her head. My body responds instantly to her presence, a primal recognition that catches me off guard. Every instinct screams at me to claim her, protect her, though I don’t understand why.

I’ve seen Laura and Skye around the sanctuary, of course, but this is different. This woman is a stranger, and suddenly I’m aware that I’ve never been alone with a woman in my admittedly limited memory.

She turns, perhaps having sensed me, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe. Her eyes, a warm hazel, meet mine and she gives me a shy smile.

She’s not the type of beautiful I see on the women on the barracks’ television. But there’s something about her open expression, the way her gaze doesn’t hold mine for so long it makes me uncomfortable. It puts me at ease from thirty paces. As I stride closer, I notice light brown freckles sprinkled across her nose. They remind me of constellations in the night sky.

“You must be Cassius,” she says, her voice, soft and warm, is overpowered by the translator’s inhuman voice. “I’m Diana.”

“Yes, I… it’s nice to meet you.”

She smiles, and I notice a slight unevenness to her lips, a tiny imperfection that only adds to her charm. I wonder briefly what caused it, what stories are written in the little marks and scars on her face.

“So,” I manage, clearing my throat. “You’re going to teach me about horses?”

She tilts her head. “Teach? That sounds so boring. I don’t want this to sound like school. But, yeah, I guess there will be teaching involved. By the time we’re done, you’re going to know the difference between a pastern and navicular bone. But don’t worry. The best part is that you’ll learn toride.”

And there’s that smile again, bigger and warmer than before.

“Have you ridden before?”

Before the last word is out of her mouth, she slaps her forehead and groans. Perhaps she’s only talking to herself, but I hear, “Diana! Don’t be an idiot. He doesn’t remember any of that.”

I expected my horse teacher to be calm and detached and in charge, like Dr. Reid and my medical team. But here’s this pretty woman who is so… alive, and real. I like her more every moment.

Her head is tipped down and her palm is covering half her face. I think this is the moment I should try to make her feel better.

“No. There’s just an empty black space where the memory of horses should be, Diana. But it sounds like in a few months, you’ll fill that place up and I’ll be an expert.”

She peeks out at me, her cheeks blushing a pretty shade of scarlet. I want to step closer, to swipe that stray hair off her blazing cheeks, but all I do is say, “It’s okay. I won’t mind whenyou make a mistake, as long as you don’t mind when I mess things up.”

“Sorry. I wanted to get off on the right foot.”

“You did.” My voice dipped low on those two words. It wasn’t subtle. Her gaze flew to my face, her mouth an O of surprise, and her fading blush turns back to crimson.

She turns and leads me into the corral, where two massive animals stand quietly. I eye them warily, unsure what to expect.

“This is Buddy,” Diana says, gesturing to a sturdy brown horse. “And this handsome gray guy is Atlas.”

She approaches the horses, her movements confident and graceful as she reaches to run her hand along Buddy’s arched neck. The horse nickers and leans into her touch.

“Would you like to say hello?” She turns to me.

I step forward. I may not remember being in a gladiator arena, but I’m told I must have been one. Although I don’t recall much, I know gladiators are only supposed to fear the direction in which the emperor points his thumb at the end of a match. I certainly shouldn’t fear a horse.

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