Page 19 of House of Serpents and Slaves
My eyes darted around the arena, searching desperately for a weapon. A dagger glinted in the sand a few paces away—a short blade, but it would do. I staggered toward it, my legs unsteady beneath me, every muscle in my body screaming in protest. Behind me, I heard her cry out—a sharp, pained sound that sent a surge of panic through my chest.
I grabbed the dagger and turned, my heart pounding as I saw her struggling to block another blow. The fighter’s sword came down hard, the sheer force of it nearly knocking the gladius from her hands. Her arms were shaking, her shoulders sagging, her feet sliding in the blood-soaked sand. She wouldn’t last much longer. The fighter raised his sword again, his face twisted in a triumphant snarl.
I surged forward, the dagger clenched tightly in my hand. He didn’t see me coming until it was too late and I drove the blade into his side, aiming for the gap in his armor at his ribs. The impact jarred my arm, but I didn’t stop. I twisted the dagger, driving it deeper, and he froze, his sword slipping from his grasp. His body convulsed once before crumpling into the sand.
The crowd erupted, their cheers deafening, but I didn’t care. I turned to Livia, who was still standing, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Her hands were trembling, the gladius slipping from her fingers to the ground.
“What the hell were you thinking?” I growled, my voice thick with anger.
Her eyes snapped to mine, wide and defiant despite the exhaustion etched into her face.
“What the hell were you thinking?” I growled again, louder this time, as I staggered toward her. My voice was raw, hoarse from shouting and from the fire burning in my chest. Livia’s chest rose and fell rapidly, her breath coming in sharp gasps, her face streaked with sweat and blood—not hers, thank the gods.Her wide brown eyes locked onto mine, and I could see the defiance burning there, as fierce and wild as the cheers of the crowd.
“I was saving your life!” she snapped, her voice trembling but steady enough.
“Saving my—” I started, but my words cut off as a wave of dizziness crashed over me. I swayed on my feet, my legs screaming for rest, my vision blurring for a moment before I managed to steady myself.
“You shouldn’t have been here!” I roared, louder than I intended, my chest tightening painfully with the effort.
She flinched, just barely, but then stepped toward me, her chin lifting in challenge. “And what was I supposed to do? Just stand there and watch you die?”
“Yes!” I snarled, the word tearing from my throat before I could stop it. “That’sexactlywhat you were supposed to do! You had no business being in this arena, no business riskingyour life—”
“And yet here I am,” she shot back, cutting me off. Her voice was sharper now, her tone slicing through my anger like a blade. “Alive. And so are you.”
I took a step closer, towering over her, my fists clenched tightly at my sides. Her defiance only infuriated me more, and yet I couldn’t look away from her—the flush in her cheeks, the fire in her eyes, the way her chest still heaved with exertion. She looked like she belonged in the arena, like she was part of it, and the thought made my stomach twist.
“You don’t understand what you’ve done,” I said, my voice low and rough.
Her brow furrowed, her lips parting slightly as she stared up at me. “I saved your life,” she said again, softer this time, like she was trying to make me see reason.
“No,” I snarled, leaning closer, close enough that I could see the droplets of sweat clinging to her dark lashes. “You riskedmylife. Do you have any idea what could’ve happened if you’d failed? If you’d fallen? If he’d turned on you?”
“I didn’t fail,” she said stubbornly, though her voice wavered slightly.
“Not this time,” I snapped, my voice rising again. “But what about next time, Livia?”
She opened her mouth to respond, but I grabbed her arm before she could speak, my fingers wrapping tightly around her wrist. Her skin was warm, slick with sweat, and I felt the strength in her muscles as she tried to pull away.
“You will not do this again,” I growled, my grip tightening. “Do you hear me? You will not step into this arena again. Ever.”
Her eyes flashed with anger, and she yanked her arm free, her strength surprising me. “You don’t get to decide that,” she said, her voice low and furious.
“I’m your superior,” I snapped. “I absolutely do get to decide that.”
“You’re not my master,” she shot back, her voice dripping with venom.
The words hit me harder than I expected, and for a moment, I couldn’t find a response. She was right, of course. I wasn’t her master. I wasn’t her anything. And yet…
I forced the thought away, shoving it into the darkest corner of my mind. It didn’t matter what I felt—what I thought I felt. It didn’t matter that the sight of her standing in the arena, defying death and the gods themselves, had stirred something in me I couldn’t name. It didn’t matter that every time I looked at her, I felt like the ground beneath me was shifting, like I was losing my footing in a fight I didn’t even know I was in.
None of it mattered.
Because she was a slave. And so was I.
There was no future for us—no possibility of a life beyond the chains that bound us. Slaves weren’t permitted to marry, weren’t permitted tofeel.Whatever this was, whatever I was feeling, it had to stop. I grabbed her arm again, not as tightly this time, and started pulling her toward the edge of the arena.
“We’re leaving,” I said through clenched teeth. She resisted, digging her heels into the sand.
