Prologue
The scrape of keys against Boden’s cage door made him sit up with heart-pounding anticipation.
Instinctively, he knew who had come. He had spent all week waiting for her, the Roman woman with fiery red hair and sparkling blue eyes.
She was no Celt like him nor was she like any of the women from his tribe - the Iceni - for she spoke the local language fluently. It had taken a few years, but Boden now understood most of the two languages his captors spoke. He still struggled to speak them as well as they did but he knew the meaning behind most words.
Most of the time, he hated listening to the foreign words around him. His lanista shouted the words at him during training every day while the other slaves whispered them through the hallways and on staircases. Some of the other slaves spoke their home tongues as well, but all day long he heard the words of the people who had captured him, enslaved him, and now kept him here in this prison.
But the patrician woman who came to see him was different. The sound of the words coming out of her mouth did not irritate him. Instead, they lulled him. Her voice was like honeyed wine, sweet but smooth. She did not use it to shout at him or make demands. She merely spoke to him.
When he saw her in the light, he realized why.
This was no ordinary Roman woman, no mere patrician wife who had come for one particular reason. Boden had seen and heard the men and women who periodically came to the ludus, the training compound where gladiators lived. Anyone with coin could pay for an hour or two with some of the strongest and most popular fighters in the Empire. The most famous ones often had multiple strangers vying for their affections, and he had seen the reactions of women in public at the games. Even wealthy, powerful women would spend their husband’s fortunes to bed a gladiator.
During the long 18 years that he had been in captivity, he had received more than a few visitors. His skills in the arena had garnered him a reputation worthy of wealthy female fans, and his lanista had made it clear that he could sell Boden’s body however he pleased, whether it was for fighting or fucking. At first glance, Claudia had seemed just like another Roman woman looking for a night with a famous gladiator. Yet when she arrived, she had merely sat across from him the entire hour talking until she finally left with a blush.
Initially, it seemed like the nervous yammering of a woman who was too scared to admit why she had come to a ludus in the middle of the night. But once she sat at his spartan table with the single chair and started to relax, she had begun to talk to him as she would with a friend or neighbor: gently and with kindness.
Granted, he had also been speechless. After almost twenty years, he was face-to-face with the reincarnation of his beloved.
He had thought he was dreaming. Then he had doubted his own sanity. Perhaps the gods were playing a cruel joke. Yet he could remember what his teachers and priests had said - the soul did not die. Often, it came back to earth in another form.
No, he could not doubt that he was looking into the eyes of the woman he had loved and lost, the woman who had been murdered in front of him. The same bright blue eyes. The same tall, regal build. The same milky skin and long, red hair. Even the way she held her hands in her lap was the same.
Yet now she was clearly Roman. A very wealthy Roman. She spoke to the guard easily and her stola was made of very expensive linen, unlike his own worn and woolen tunic. Gold jewelry adorned her wrists and ankles and her sandals looked almost brand new. Half of her hair was braided but still modestly wrapped on the nape of her neck while red ochre covered her lips.
She was the kind of woman who belonged to a senator or consul.
Not the kind of woman who belonged to a slave like him. Even though he had also once been a powerful man.
He had hoped for a glimmer of recognition in her eyes when they met, but he instantly knew that she had no recollection of her past life.
Yet the gods had still steered her back to him.
He could feel his heartbeat in his throat as the cage door screeched open and she slowly walked inside of his cell. Her paennula was the color of dark wine, and she pulled back its hood to smile warmly at him.
"Salve,” she greeted him.
Clearing his throat, he nodded at her. “Salve, domina.”
“If we are to be better acquainted, I would ask that you use my name.”
Now he felt a blush spread across his cheeks and he was thankful for the relative darkness. “Salve... Claudia.”
Her answering smile lit the room like the sun and he stared in awe as she removed her paennula and sat at his small table once again.
The holding cell was little more than a cage. Dirt floors that could easily soak up blood and sweat. A cot barely big enough for his large frame. The single small table and chair where a clay oil lamp emitted the tiniest flame. The only way in and out was through the iron-wrought door, the keys to which Boden could never own unless he was freed.
Privacy was nonexistent. As a slave, he was entitled to nothing, and being trapped amongst other gladiators meant he could hear every grunt, sigh, and fart that sounded across the underground facility. It was not the type of place he imagined being with his beloved again.
Boden could see Claudia’s hands shake slightly, and she slid them into the folds of her stola.
“Apologies,” she whispered. “You must think me a nuisance, bothering you here.”
He searched her eyes for any sign that she remembered him but he could only see excitement and trepidation.
Could he help her remember? He wanted to touch her but he was wary of frightening her, especially when she was clearly nervous. Instead, he chose to sit on the cot across from her.
“I’m at your service, domina.”
Her wince shocked him. “I would not force you to do anything, gladiator. You are more than a slave to me. If not, I would be no better than my husband.”
His entire body went rigid at the mention of a husband he knew had to exist. He had suspected as much. She was an adult woman adorned in fine clothes and jewelry; most women of her station were married.
But if she was here to see him...
“Does he mistreat you, domina?”
It was a bold question, and her wide eyes confirmed that he had crossed a line of decorum. But he couldn’t pretend with her. It was a risk he was willing to take.
After a long moment of silence, she finally nodded. “You must receive many visitors like me, wealthy wives unhappy with the marriages chosen for them.” Her bright eyes dulled as they dropped to the ground. “After five years of marriage, my husband thinks very little of me. I-I never much... enjoyed pleasure in our marriage bed, but now he refuses to even touch me. Or look at me.”
A deep, heavy anger filled Boden’s veins.
“I have failed to provide my husband an heir, therefore, I am unworthy of his attention.”
As she removed her paennula completely, he glanced at a small, purplish bruise on her upper arm.
The urge to kill this man flooded Boden like poison.
“Does he hurt you, domina?”
Her shrug was delicate. “He is fully within his rights to do so.”
It was the closest to a confirmation that he would receive.
“I care not if the Roman law permits him,” Boden practically spit.
He hated the Romans, hated everything they stood for, and inflicted on his people. After years of fighting back, the monsters had finally conquered his and his people’s lands, even some of his enemies’ lands as well. Warriors like him were enslaved to fight for the public’s amusement while the women and children were conscripted into household service or brothels.
He continued, “You deserve to be cherished, domina. Allow me to say this, but your husband is a fool.”
Her eyes widened again but she giggled shyly nonetheless. “I wish I was as bold as you to say what I feel.”
“Feel free to say whatever you wish here with me.”
Remember me, he silently urged. Remember who we were.
Their eyes met and he was shaken by the fire he saw in her gaze.
“Forgive me, gladiator, but I feel as if...” She shook her head. “I feel as if I know you from somewhere. Perhaps that is why I can speak so freely with you.”
It was a risk but he reminded himself that she had come to him, clearly hungry for a man’s touch and comfort. He even wondered if her body remembered him where her mind did not. Brazenly, he reached across and took her small, soft hand in his own callused, hard one.
He saw the breath hitch in her throat, and their skin tingled at the small contact. A force like lightning passed between their hands, and he felt his own heart throb in his chest.
“I feel the same, domina.”
His cock jumped when he felt the caress of her long finger against the ridge of his thumb.
“I do not wish to use you,” she whispered shakily.
He understood her meaning. “I shall not feel used when I long for your touch.”
The words seemed to sink in between them, allowing her permission to give in.
When she slightly pulled his hand closer, he took the lead and grasped her into his arms.
Every part of his body came alive as he felt her relax into his hold. With a shaky breath, she leaned down to kiss him and their mouths met with a fury. The immediate touch sparked between them like fire. Boden was desperately trying not to scare or hurt her, but the touch of her lips against him made him grip her hips possessively. Her legs tightened around his waist like a vise and the sound of her soft moan when he slipped his tongue into her mouth nearly undid him. He groaned in relief when he felt her arms circle around his neck.
There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to tell her, even if she couldn’t remember who she was yet. But for now, he could only speak through his body and hope that she would feel their connection.
They had not merely been lovers those eighteen years ago. They had both been wealthy, upper-class Iceni descended from two of the more powerful families in their tribe. Before she had been killed, their fathers had agreed to the marriage, and they had consummated their union one night under the cover of a full moon.
But that was before her older sister, Sorcha, had done the unthinkable.
The kiss became wilder as she began to grind against his now massive erection. He was quickly spiraling out of control, traipsing down a path where there would be no return if they kept going. But her soft, full lips and warm, curvy flesh drove him insane. He pulled her closer, angling his head so he could slant his mouth fully against hers while her nails bit into the shorn hair at his neck.
When she gave a loud sigh of pleasure, he picked her up and lay her down on the cot.
She was breathing very heavily now, trembling with desire as he unwrapped her stola and slid it to the floor.
The cell was darkly lit but he could still see the soft, creamy flesh of her long legs and modest breasts. He wiped his mouth hungrily as his gaze trailed down her slender body. Red curls guarded her entrance and she cried out when he stroked down the center of her wet heat.
He could feel her trembling, even as her flushed cheeks, quick breathing, and hard, pink nipples gave away her desire. Wetness greeted his finger and he rewarded her arousal by teasing her clitoris with a light touch.
Her cry was like a beg for mercy.
“I was right, domina,” he breathed against her parted lips. “Your husband is nothing but a fool.”
Pressing small circles against her clitoris with his thumb, he swallowed her moan into his mouth.
“Boden...” she breathed, saying his name for the first time since they had met.
The sound lit his body like a flame.
When her hot sheath clenched his finger, he practically spilled his speed.
“Claudia...” It was not normal for a slave like him to use his mistress’ given name but she seemed to enflame further when he did.
Her mouth searched for his as one of her own hands timidly reached under the hem of his tunic.
The feel of her naked hand on his cock made him groan with effort.
Realizing that he must have frightened her when she pulled her hand away suddenly, he stopped her and brought it back to his waiting shaft.
“Touch me freely, domina,” he commanded. His lips trailed up the white column of her neck. “I am yours.”
He grunted in approval when she grabbed his hair almost painfully and brought his mouth down for another wet kiss.
This was the Rowena he remembered. Underneath the formal, shy demeanor lay a wildcat of fire and heat who only responded to him. Many had thought the Celtic princess cold and unfeeling, but he knew what she hid from the rest of the world.
Her eyes rolled back when he started to fuck her thoroughly with his fingers. The hot clasp of her cunt filled his veins with fire, and he pulled his tunic over his head as quickly as possible so he could return to his ministrations. Her body’s response was better than the first drink of the sweetest wine, and his cock was aching to fill her.
Her loud moans filled the cell along with the wicked sound of his fingers thrusting inside of her until he captured her mouth again. As her climax washed over her, flooding his fingers, he swallowed the scream in her throat.
Before she could catch her breath, he twisted them and pulled her on top of him, her cunt dangerously close to the engorged head of his cock.
She widened her eyes with shock, clearly unused to taking the lead, but he lifted her so that her entrance teasingly slid along his shaft. A low, heavy moan escaped her full lips and her hips bucked of their own accord.
Grasping one of her breasts, he guided their bodies together until his cock was slightly penetrating her tight sheath, torturing them both.
“Please,” she begged, her nipples fully erect and her entire body flush with arousal. She jerked when the bulbous head of his cock barely entered her.
He needed no further encouragement. Boden had been longing for her since the moment she had shown up in his cell just a week ago. He wasn’t going to lose this opportunity that the gods have given him now.
“Rowena...”
It took a few heartbeats for the word to settle in the air. By the time he realized what he had said, she had frozen on top of him.
“What did you say?”
His own body froze too. How could he have been so careless?
Before he could say a word, he watched as the emotions on her face changed. Hurt and shock melted away as recognition slowly settled. Her chest heaved and he could see the thoughts running through her head.
“Wha... Where have I heard that name before?”
He let loose a shaky breath before replying, ”Pritanī.”
A stillness filled the air, gentle but prodding like a summer breeze.
He felt the shift in her body as the realization overtook her.
“Boden...” Tears began to well in her eyes and fall down her cheeks. “C-can it be true?”
His own eyes filled with tears as his heart clenched and he gripped her hips softly. “The gods did not abandon us after all, my love.”
Her sob broke him and they crashed together in bliss.
