Page 13 of Gladiator's Captive
Then it hit me. I knew. I knew why Arenius had planned the death of his most celebrated gladiator, why he had been willing to sacrifice the champion of Valcan for the price of a single fight in the arena.
“You were planning an escape all along.” My words were lost in Rager’s emerald gaze, in the curve of his hard mouth. “That’s why Arenius wanted you dead. His reputation as a gladiator owner would have been ruined. He would have been a laughing stock. His life’s work would have been destroyed.”
Long seconds stretched as Rager stared at me, then he nodded once. I was right.
“The only way to escape the arena is to die or to run.” The statement was simple, but the truth behind the words was cruel. “I chose to run.”
I nodded. I didn’t say it, but this was true for the both of us. Only I never had the courage to escape. As I lost myself to the bottomless pools of Rager’s eyes I wondered if this was going to be my choice as well.
Die or run?
Chapter Eight
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Rager
I should leave her here. She’s still close enough to her father’s house.
But she stared up at me with those eyes, big and blue even under the moonlight, the perfect oval of her face contoured by shadows, her curly hair in disarray on her shoulders. Her face was an ode to all things feminine and soft. She was fully woman, hips and breasts round and inviting, with a mouth like a flower, her upper lip as full as her lower, blossom pink. It was a mouth made for kissing, for the possession of a man.
Would it redden if I took it as roughly as I wanted to? And those eyes, pale as a blue sky, would they darken under the torments of passion? Would she blush and moan, writhe with sweet sounds of female pleasure under my hands?
Her fine silk dress lay torn around her legs and her arms were covered in dirt and cuts from rocks. She was the perfect image of a woman in distress, but there was no weakness shining in her gaze as she held mine, only a soul made of steel like few I had ever seen. She was afraid, yes, but she would never cower in front of me.
Unless I make her.
A deep shiver ran along my limbs as I stared at her. Images of a female form, bare and helpless, superimposed themselves over her, and my cock stirred, arousal rising inside my body, stubborn and tenacious.
It’s been too long since I’ve had a woman.
But I knew it was more than that. There was a vulnerability in her gaze, an openness as well as a defiance. It was a mixture that I found as enticing as it was provocative, but I knew she did not understand the true danger of my proximity to her. A Muharib’s mating was nothing like a human’s. Unlike humans, when a Muharib chose a mate, he kept her, no matter what. There was no divorce in my kind, no walking away once the choice was made. The depth to which my kind took possession of a female’s body and soul was not a line that could be walked back.
No. She’s one of them and I’m a fool.
Still, lust coiled inside me as the woman stared up, blue eyes shining and her round face tilted upward. Lust and something more. Something I had to crush before it swallowed me whole.
