The Gladiator by Carla Capshaw

Author:Carla Capshaw
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Harlequin (UK) Limited
Published: 2009-09-18T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Caros swept Pelonia off her feet, holding her tight while she wept against his chest. He’d witnessed numerous executions over the years. The scene below was no different except this time he observed the fray from above, instead of fighting in the thick of it.

The mob’s wild chants swarmed like locusts as the last two men in the arena struggled to protect the woman—a woman who could easily be Pelonia if the Fates turned against her.

The thought soured his gut. He brushed a kiss across the top of her head. For the first time in years, fear coursed through his veins. Now that he’d found a woman to love, he refused to live without her. But what if someone uncovered Pelonia’s secret and took the choice from his hands? What if someone threatened to throw Pelonia to the wolves for her Christian beliefs?

Bile rose in his throat. Anxious to leave, he sought out the exit. A storm of stomping feet pummeled the marble risers and a blast of wild shouting thundered around the arena.

With a last backward glance, he saw two of the wolves begin to circle the woman. His feet froze. Time faltered and stood still. Riveted by the animals’ cunning, Caros felt each of his muscles tighten with dread. He willed the Christian to deny her beliefs and save her life. A simple retraction of her faith would provide a way of escape.

Why didn’t she grasp the opportunity and see herself freed?

The pack moved like a troop of gladiators, sizing up the weaknesses of their prey and how best to attack. It wouldn’t be long before all of the Christians lay mangled in the sand.

A seasoned predator himself, Caros held his breath as the largest she wolf determined a precise moment to strike. The pack charged as one frenzied unit, downing the last three Christians in a single, simultaneous assault.

An unfamiliar ache took root in his chest. He closed his eyes and pushed the pain away as the mob’s triumphant roar erupted around the arena, freeing him from his momentary trance.

Pelonia writhed in his arms and fought to look over his shoulder, but he tightened his grip, pinning her with his superior strength as he carried her toward the exit. “Don’t look, mea carissima. It’s a gruesome sight and we’ve both seen more than enough.”

Neither of them spoke on the journey home. The senseless butchery in the ring disgusted Caros. He’d never enjoyed the public executions, but he’d grown calloused to them.

No longer.

His love for a Christian made all the difference, destroying his ability to look upon their deaths with the same resignation and complacence.

He stole a glance at Pelonia beside him in the chariot, her eyes red and swollen from tears. His breathing grew difficult. Long ago he’d become accustomed to all manner of physical pain, but her quiet sorrow filled him with helpless agony.

Tender feelings and emotions he’d buried years ago to survive the bleakness of his existence rose up like a tide. Guilt for his part in past executions choked him.

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