Page 40 of Aries

“I quit praying to the Gods after I was forced into the gladiatorludus.I certainly never prayed when I was on the slave ship. But for some reason, the Gods gave me the sweetest gift, Callie. You.”

He pierces me with the most sincere, affectionate gaze. “I squandered it once, Callista, but I vow by all that’s holy, I will never let you go again. Not if you want me. I will do whatever it takes for the rest of my life to be worthy of you.”

Goosebumps swarm over every exposed inch of my body, and they have nothing to do with the chilled air.

“You’re stealing my heart, Aries. One sweet word, one blazing look, one vow at a time.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Aries

The morning after our intimate bath, I decide I can’t put this off anymore. Watching Callie navigate our kitchen—all unconscious grace and morning sunlight—the weight of my secret feels like it might crush my ribs. She deserves the truth. All of it.

“We should talk,” I say quietly. “About what I promised to tell you.”

Her hands clutch thedrassahpot she’s holding. “Are you sure? We don’t have to do this now.”

But we do. After what she shared last night, after how far we’ve come, she deserves the whole truth. Even if it means losing everything we’ve built. Can she hear my story without hating me?

Spark drifts closer, its usual bright colors shifting to concerned lavender. Theshimmerlingseems to sense the weight of what’s coming.

“Could we…” My voice catches. “Could we sit in the garden? I need… to be somewhere open to speak the truth.”

She follows me outside without question. The morning air carries the scent of night-blooming flowers, so different from the rain and metallic tang of the arena that haunts my memories. We settle on the small bench, maintaining the proper gap, while Spark hovers protectively between us.

“My brother Kren and I weren’t born gladiators,” I begin, the words scraping raw. “We were sons of a merchant on Dauphus Prime. Our fathers were different, but we had the same mother. He was threeannumsyounger, but you’d never know it. He always seemed wiser somehow, even as a child.”

The memory rises unbidden. Kren’s small hand in mine as we explored the marketplace where his father traded exotic spices. “There was this time, just before the harvest festival. He couldn’t have been more than six. We were supposed to stay in father’s booth, but Kren heard music…”

“Come on, Ari!” Kren tugged my hand, eyes bright with excitement. “Just for aminima!”

“Father said to stay put,” I protested, already feeling my resolve weaken. It was impossible to deny Kren anything when he smiled like that.

“But the fire dancers are here! Please?” He bounced on his toes, horns barely visible nubs on his small head. “I’ll be your best brother forever and ever.”

“You’re my only brother, pest,” I grumbled, but let him pull me into the crowd.

The fire dancers whirled in the square, their flames painting patterns that drew gasps from the gathered crowd. Kren’s face glowed with wonder as he watched, still clutching my hand.

“We’ll learn to dance like that someday,” he declared with childish certainty. “You and me, Ari. We’ll make the prettiest fire-patterns anyone’s ever seen.”

“Oh, really?” I couldn’t help grinning. “And how exactly will we do that?”

He turned those serious eyes on me, eyes that always seemed to see straight through to my soul. “Because we can do anything together. You said so.”

After I’ve told the story to Callie, I add, “He believed that.” I glance away, not wanting her to see the liquid welling in my eyes. “Right up until the end, he believed we could do anything as long as we were together.”

“I’ll not ask a single question, Aries, and will try not to say a word. Take this at your own pace. But can you pretend that I’m holding your hand? You know I would be, if it wouldn’t break the rules.”

Her sweet reassurance, her desire to be my lifeline as I tell her my story, makes me care for her more than I already do.

“Yes, Callie.” I nod. “I’m holding your sweet hand.”

A beat of silence stretches between us. Whether it’s for a few standard minutes or longer, I don’t know. The need to do this in my own way, in my own time, outweighs even my affection for the female by my side.

“Slavers,” I finally spit out, the word tasting bitter on my tongue. “I was fifteen, Kren barely twelve. They raided during the night market. Father tried to fight them off, but…” I clench my hands, remembering his crumpled form, the blood pooling beneath him. “They wanted young males for theludus. Said we’d fetch a good price.”

Spark pulses gently, encouraging me to continue. Callie’s eyes hold no judgment, only quiet support.

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