Chapter 30
Velia smiled as her feet sank into the three rugs that adorned the floor of Ferox’s bedroom.
The vestiges of the tension that had gripped her all day finally lifted at the sight of him, sitting up in bed and sipping a cup of water.
Bandages covered him in several spots, but he was overall in one piece.
She still couldn’t believe the day had turned out like this, that neither Ferox nor Achilles had died.
She’d been frozen with fear for the entire match, which seemed to stretch for hours.
When Achilles had landed that brutal kick to Ferox’s wounded leg, she’d nearly collapsed in horror, her vision patchy and every muscle quivering like the last autumn leaf on a branch.
She was sure that was it, that Achilles’s sword would be at Ferox’s throat in the next moment.
But somehow, Ferox had gotten the upper hand. Then, she’d watched in petrified awe as the emperor reversed his decision, conceding to the crowd’s will.
She would never forget the sight of both of them stumbling from the arena, exhausted, bloodied, but alive.
The physician had tended to Ferox’s leg with much displeased muttering. He had to remove the remnants of the previous stitches and close the wound once more. He’d warned that Ferox might be left with a limp.
Besides his leg, the slice on his left palm was the worst injury, and the physician had stitched that too before wrapping it tightly in bandages. His hand, like his leg, might never regain full mobility. Ferox had accepted both prognoses with a grim nod.
Now, Velia bore a tray of food covered with a napkin, which she set carefully on Ferox’s lap.
He murmured thanks. “I heard a ruckus outside. Is anything amiss?”
Velia grinned wryly at the memory of the disturbance she’d just left. “Achilles is telling anyone who will listen that he let you win. Lea punched him in the mouth. Jason had to drag her off him.”
“Gods below,” Ferox muttered.
“No one believes him,” Velia said. “Anyone who watched the match could see he was fighting for his life. But I could have watched Lea knock him on his backside ten times. Even though she shouldn’t be punching anyone after—” Velia broke off.
She didn’t want to worry Ferox with details of what happened in Lea’s match.
“After what?” he pressed, raising himself into a taller sitting position.
Velia hesitated, but he’d find out soon enough.
“Lea was wounded earlier. She’s fine,” Velia added quickly when she saw the tension ripple through his large body, the worry flaring in his gaze.
“She even won. The emperor was so impressed he called her up to his box and personally awarded her a prize. I think he was trying to give people something else to talk about after earlier.”
“Did the physician tend to her?”
“You won’t believe it, but the emperor sent his personal physician to see to her wound.
He must have done a good job, since she was well enough to pummel Achilles.
” Velia had briefly caught sight of the man, and she grinned.
His appearance had made quite the impression on her.
“I think he’s Greek, and he’s very handsome. ”
Ferox glowered. “I don’t need to hear about the other men you find handsome.”
“I didn’t say I found him handsome,” Velia clarified.
“Just that he was, objectively, handsome. Not that Lea seemed to notice.” Velia ran a hand up Ferox’s uninjured leg over the blanket, stopping when she reached the wooden tray still resting on his thighs.
“Luckily for you, I prefer rugged, battle-scarred gladiators to devastatingly handsome Greek physicians.”
“Now he’s devastatingly handsome?” Ferox growled.
Velia let out a ringing laugh. “All right, he was the ugliest man I’ve ever seen. Happy?”
Ferox grumbled and turned his attention to the tray, removing the napkin that covered it. “What’s this?”
Velia reached out to pick up one of the globi, the fried cheesecake balls she’d acquired specially.
“Lea told me about your conversation. How you’ve gone all this time thinking your friend was haunting you.
I remembered you told me his favorite food was globi.
So I thought, if he is here, maybe he’d like to know we remember him this way. ”
She hadn’t realized the extent to which Ferox had been tormented by his grief and his guilt until speaking to Lea earlier that day.
Her heart broke to think of how he must have suffered, stubbornly refusing to unburden himself to his friends because he believed he didn’t deserve solace.
Now, she hoped he would one day be able to remember Hector with fondness, not anguish.
A small smile lifted the corners of Ferox’s mouth.
He lifted one of the round golden morsels.
“You know, I think I do feel him here, but not in the way I used to.” He closed his eyes briefly.
“I hope you’re stuffing your face with these in Elysium, my friend,” he murmured, then popped the ball into his mouth.
Velia joined him in devouring the rest of the globi, along with the other, more nutritious food she’d brought. As she ate, she surveyed him. Now that the all-consuming stress of the day was behind them, her mind turned toward the future.
They hadn’t fully discussed Ferox’s declaration that he’d stay and be her trainer, as things had still been so uncertain last night. What if he’d changed his mind? What if he’d only said it to make her happy in that moment, knowing he might not survive the next day?
“Did you…mean what you said last night?” she asked, cursing the hesitation in her voice. “Only because, well, if you’re to stay, I’m going to have to pay my uncle for your room and board. So you’d better enjoy every bite of that food if it’s coming out of my purse.”
He polished off a chunk of cheese, then met her gaze. “I meant it.”
Relief and joy flooded her in equal measure. An exuberant smile spread across her face. She’d thought this day was going to be the worst of her life, but it might just have become the best.
“I have one condition, though,” he continued.
“Oh?” She couldn’t think of anything he’d ask that she’d refuse.
“If you’re to take on more gladiators, and I’m to train them…I want them all to be volunteers. Like Achilles. No slaves.” His eyes were dark and serious.
Velia nodded without hesitation. “Only volunteers.” Limiting herself to volunteers would slow her ability to expand, as she’d have to wait for the right candidates to present themselves, but she understood why Ferox asked that, and it was easy to agree.
“I’ll have to put the word out that I’m looking for men,” she said. “I was hoping to make enough profit to move into a ludus of our own in the next year or so. There’s an empty building nearby that I think is the right size. It would take some patching up, but it would do.”
He twined his fingers with hers. “Whatever figure you think you’ll need to raise, subtract thirty thousand from it. I still have the earnings from my first fight. Well, minus the rugs you made me buy. And that pitcher.”
“You’d really do that? Spend your money on buying a new ludus?”
“Not just a ludus,” he murmured. “A future. With you.”
Tears welled, and she dashed them away with the back of her hand. “Well, if you’re to be my trainer, that makes you my employee,” she announced, laughing through her lingering tears. “Which means you have to do everything I say.” She allowed her smile to turn sly, suggestive.
His eyebrows twitched. “We’ll see about that.”
She glanced at the bandages visible on his hand and elsewhere. “I don’t think you’re in any condition to be giving orders.”
Heat sparked in his gaze. “Take this tray away and I’ll show you what condition I’m in.”
She reached for the tray but bit her lip. A familiar throbbing tingle was building in her core, but despite her saucy words, she knew they may need to hold back until he had recovered further. “Are you sure? We can wait…”
“Put the tray on the floor, Velia.”
When he took that dark, commanding tone, there was no denying him. She did as he asked, and the removal of the tray revealed a swelling arousal tenting the wool blanket that covered him from the waist down.
She ran her hand over it, rewarded by the way his breath caught at her touch.
He slid down from his sitting position to lie flat on the bed, then flung away the blanket. He was naked but for the bandages, and a pleased thrill ran through her at the sight of him, body still undeniably powerful despite his wounds.
“Come here.” He guided her forward until she straddled his hips, careful as she could not to jostle his leg. His stiffening cock pressed against her center, and she slid herself against it, but the fabric of her dress was in the way.
“Take off your dress.”
Again, she obeyed, and the linen fabric fluttered to the floor atop the discarded blanket. His hands grasped her hips, pulling her against him. He probably shouldn’t be gripping her that way with his injured left hand, but she wasn’t about to tell him to stop.
“Remember that time you bound my wrists?” he murmured.
She glanced up at the hook on the wall where she’d secured him. The surrounding plaster was still cracked from their exploits. “Yes.”
“I warned you I could free myself easily enough. But you didn’t care. You said I’d let it hold me, because you wanted it that way.”
Heat rushed through her at the memory of that coupling, one of their first. “I remember.”
“This is going to be like that, understand? You’re going to do as I ask, not because I’m compelling you, but because you want to please me. You do, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she sighed. Each word he spoke drove her arousal higher, like breaths coaxing a spark into a blaze.
“Good.” He released his grasp on her hips. “Now sit on my face, Velia.”
She hastened to comply, but when she settled herself over him, facing the wall behind his head, he tapped her hip. “Turn around.”