Masters of the Hunt: Fated and Forbidden

by Sarra Cannon

  Azurha tightened her muscles, preparing to spring the moment Cassius decided to end this standoff. “He’s what the empire needs.”

  “I turned you into something greater than you were before. If I had known you would betray me this way, I would have killed you in that alley seven years ago.”

  Azurha gasped and took a step back. She was nothing to him, a plaything for him to corrupt in order to amuse himself. Anger flooded her veins, and a growl rumbled deep inside her chest. There would be no hesitating. He was nothing to her now, and knowing that would make it much easier to kill him.

  He lunged toward her. She pivoted to her side to avoid his blow. The cold whoosh of air from his blade ruffled her skirts, the chill reminding her how close he came. She sliced her dagger up and out, connecting with the flesh of his cheek. A howl of pain echoed through the corridor, and footsteps sounded in the distance. Her heart raced. She needed to end this quickly before others entered the fray.

  She shifted her stance to get a better angle at his throat, but Cassius tackled her to ground with his shoulder. The blow left her lungs burning for air, and his face swam in front of her. The sunlight caught on the bright metal of his blade as it bore down on her. She rolled to the side, the ripping of material filling her ears from her torn stola. She managed to get her feet under her before Cassius delivered another blow and raked her blade along his sword arm.

  The scent of blood burned her nose, and the gathering crowd blurred around them. Like the gladiators in the ring outside, this was a death match. She couldn’t let anything distract her from Cassius.

  His chest heaved, showing how the years of retirement had taken a toll on his stamina. This was her chance. Strike now. She tightened her sweat-soaked palm around the hilt and calculated the best way to deliver the killing blow.

  But that second of hesitation cost her.

  A figure rushed out of the crowd toward her, and the flat of a sword connected with the back of her head. Black stars bloomed on the edge of her vision, coalescing to form a dark curtain over her eyes. The ground raced up to meet her. A pair of familiar blue eyes, filled with betrayal, was the last thing she remembered seeing.

  I’ve failed, she thought bitterly as the world faded from her consciousness.

  Chapter 25

  Barely a minute had passed since Azurha had dashed past him, and Titus was missing her presence already. His insides flopped like a dying fish on a boat deck, sending a shiver down his arms and causing his fingers to twitch. She’d seen blood and brutality yesterday and handled it far better than most women. Why the change now?

  His mother leaned over and whispered, “Is there something about Azurha that you’re keeping from me?”

  “If there are any secrets to be held, Mother, then she’s the one that holds them.” He settled back in the chair, ignoring the puzzled expression on his mother’s face. He didn’t particularly care for the gladiator fights either, but he wished his damn stomach would stop trying to seize control of his entire body. His mind filled with a sense of foreboding that ate away at his joy and left a black hole of emptiness in its place. The paleness of her cheeks, the way she insisted he stay behind—it all spoke of a woman trying to hide something.

  “Nothing to worry about, I’m sure,” his mother said. “Most women get a little queasy when they’re in a certain condition, althoughI wasn’t expecting it so soon.”

  The world around him seemed to condense in a narrow tube before rushing to smack him in the face. The pounding of his heart filled his ears, blocking out any of the crowd’s roar. Sweat slicked his palms and trickled down his neck. Surely, it was too soon for her to be with child.

  He stood so quickly, the stadium rolled in time to the contents of his stomach, and he reached for his throne to steady himself. He had to find her and end this uncertainty once and for all.

  Both Marcus and Galerius rushed to his side, but he waved them off. The last thing he needed was to appear weak in front of his subjects. He sucked in a deep breath and straightened his spine. “Where did she go?” he asked, his voice low and even enough to mask his inner turmoil.

  “Out into the corridor.” Galerius jerked his head toward the main entrance. “I saw one of my men follow her. We’re guarding her as closely as you, Emperor Sergius.”

  The captain’s words eased some of his doubts. She couldn’t escape the grounds of the Stadium without a member of the Legion in her shadow. “Take me to her.”

  A shout broke the serene silence of the corridor the second he passed through the arched entrance. The two members of the Legion standing guard ran in its direction, their swords drawn. Three more members appeared to form a protective cocoon around Titus, preventing him from seeing what the commotion ahead was. He shoved them away. “What’s going on?”

  “Your Majesty—” one of the men started to say, but his words broke off when Titus emerged from behind the human shield they’d erected around him.

  What Titus saw on the other side made his breath lock in his chest. Azurha stood with her back to him. In her hand, she held a thin dagger. Across from her, a wounded member of the Legion shifted on his feet. His lungs billowed like a man who’d just sprinted from one end of the coliseum to the other. They circled each other like the gladiators in the pit outside, each looking for the best way to incapacitate the other. There was no mistaking the murderous gleam in the soldier’s eyes, and the tightness in Titus’s chest increased threefold.

  Azurha’s hand squeezed her dagger, and he watched helplessly as her muscles flexed. His consort was about to kill a member of the Legion in plain view of everyone. What had brought her to this? What would the consequences be if she succeeded? He reached out to stop her, to end this madness before it got out of hand, but Galerius was faster.

  The flat of his sword connected to back of her skull, knocking the tiara from her head. It rolled to a stop in front of Titus while her body whipped to one side from the blow. His eyes met hers as her body crumpled to the ground. The shock and horror on her face matched the same emotions whirling inside him, making his heart rattle against his ribs. The dagger slipped from her hand, and her eyes rolled back before her lids snapped shut.

  His head suddenly seemed too heavy for his neck, and his body refused to obey his commands. Instead of gracing his bed, Azurha now lay sprawled across the dirty coliseum corridor. Blood trickled down her smooth cheeks. The subtle rise and fall of her chest was the only sign of life she gave him.

  The soldier she’d fought raised his sword above her, aiming for her heart. The blade sliced through the air.

  The clang of metal halted its course, and the soldier stumbled back. Galerius moved between him and Azurha. “I demand to know what happened here.”

  “She was trying to kill the emperor,” the man replied. “I caught her removing the dagger from under her skirt and confronted her. She attacked me.”

  The first sentence echoed in his mind to the point where he wanted to scream like a madman to drown it out. Azurha was trying to kill me? Preposterous! She was his lover, his confidante. The woman he wanted to make his Empress. And yet he couldn’t ignore the wounded member of the Legion, nor the dagger that rested inches from her hand.

  “We should kill her now before she tries it again,” the soldier continued and raised his sword again.

  Galerius blocked his blow again. “You will do nothing without the emperor’s command.”

  Every eye turned to him. Azurha’s life hinged on the next word that came out of his mouth. Betrayal ate away at his gut, stirring up the acid that threatened to seep into his heart. He picked up the fallen crown that lay at his feet and ran his hands over the embedded jewels. Just minutes ago, it had adorned her head. Now, it was covered with dust and splattered with blood. A deep ache replaced the bitterness as he wiped the red blotches away. “Why would she attack me?”

  “I think this might explain a few things.” Pontus appeared from the crowd like a solemn messenger and brought him the dagger.


  A crouching rabbit was engraved in the hilt.

  Another wave of nausea assaulted him, and he closed his eyes to keep the vertigo from sending the contents of his stomach into his mouth and beyond.

  Azurha was the Rabbit.

  Impossible! his heart argued, but his mind refused to budge. Too many things added up for him to ignore the evidence. Her skills, her secrets, her refusal to discuss a future with him.

  Because she never intended to have a future with him.

  His hands tightened around the crown. It was all a lie. She never loved him. She was just waiting for the right moment to slit his throat. His face grew hot, despite the lack of sunlight in the corridors. How could I have been stupid enough to fall in love with an assassin?

  Then the memory of her feather-light kisses across his cheeks doused his anger. He recalled the passion in her eyes when they made love, the raw emotion whenever she looked at him, the way she whispered his name when she lay in his arms every night. Either she was one of the best actresses in the empire, or she truly cared for him. If he ordered her execution now, he’d never know for sure.

  But he wasn’t going to gamble on being wrong.

  “Take her to the prison.” His voice sounded too cold to his own ears. It belonged to a man devoid of emotion. A man of logic. A man he’d once strived to be before an Alpirion entered his life and made him question everything he’d known. “When she awakens, we will question her thoroughly and decide her fate.”

  Galerius motioned for two of his men to take her. Marcus brushed past him, caught his eye, and nodded. Some of the fear eased from Titus’s chest when he saw his friend was well armed. Marcus would personally see that no one would act as a vigilante between here and the palace. At least that was one less thing to worry about. Too bad there were more problems to deal with.

  “Halt.” Everyone in the area froze. Galerius closed the gap between him and the wounded soldier, studying him with narrowed eyes. “Return to the barracks and have your wounds tended to. You are not to leave until you give me a full report.”

  Two more members of the Legion fell into step beside him as they pushed through the crowd. Galerius stepped back, his expression still tight. “I will get to the bottom of this by any means necessary, Your Majesty.”

  A chill raced up Titus’s spine and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Whatever methods Galerius would use to gain the truth, they wouldn’t be gentle.

  “But first, I need to make sure you return to the palace safely.”

  Titus nodded and was about to follow when he caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye. “Wait. There’s one more question that needs to be answered.” He turned to Pontus. “I’d like to know how the Rabbit ended up in my harem, coz.”

  His cousin’s face paled, but his expression remained placid. “Naturally.I had no idea the Rabbit was a woman. I just sent word out that I was looking for a woman to offer to you, and I chose her out of those that responded.”

  Titus resisted the urge to call Pontus a liar in front of the crowd. “Maybe, but I’m sure Captain Galerius would like to ask you a few more questions.”

  “As you wish, Your Imperial Majesty.” Pontus lowered his head in the same mocking bow he gave him two weeks ago.

  Titus tightened his jaw. Varro, Marcus, Galerius—they’d all been right to suspect Azurha was hiding something. He never suspected something this big, though. His pulse thudded in an odd rhythm as he exited the coliseum. He would force the truth from her now and not let his heart or his dick overrule him.

  But if I discover what I fear, will I be able to order her death?

  Chapter 26

  The cold ache that seeped into her bones told Azurha she wasn’t dead yet. That, and the pounding in her head as she lay on a wet floor. She cursed the gods for denying her death. If they had been merciful, she would have drawn her last breath at Titus’s feet, not waking up to the pain of betrayal.

  She tried not to think about the hurt in his eyes as her senses slowly sharpened. It was times like this when she wished her heart could be as numb as her fingertips. Her unconscious fog began to lift, even though the darkness remained. The clink of metal chains filled her ears when she tried to move her arms from behind her, and another stone dropped into her stomach. The air squeezed from her lungs, making it hard to draw in the next breath. Memories of the last time she had been bound like this assaulted her with more malice than Cassius could ever manage.

  Time passed in the steady drips of water from somewhere in the cell while Azurha forced her pounding heart to slow. This was no time to panic. For some unknown reason, she’d been spared, but her presence here also meant that Cassius had probably escaped. Every second she wasted letting fear grip her meant one lost second where she could be killing the true villains.

  She pulled herself up to her knees and tested the chains that bound her wrists behind her back. They rattled against the stone wall, sliding back and forth through an iron ring, but didn’t budge. Another effort confirmed her suspicion that she wouldn’t be able to yank them free. She crawled forward. The length of the chain gave her maybe a yard to work with, barely enough to fight off an attacker. If anyone came in, she’d be a sitting target for their sword. She sank back on her heels with a sigh and tried to get a feel for the manacles around her wrists.

  She should have told Titus the truth. Then at least he would have been warned.

  Regret gnawed at her. She’d been selfish to keep her secrets to herself. The temptation to stay in Titus’s arms had been too much for her to refuse. But now there was nothing left for her to hold onto. Her identity had been revealed, for certain. Even if Titus forgave her betrayal, he couldn’t ignore the hundreds of people she’d murdered over the years.

  You’ll never find a knot you can’t unravel.

  The soothsayer’s words mocked her more viciously than ever. So far, the cell had not yielded any clue to help free her. She might as well wait here until they sent the executioner. She jerked the chains with a cry of frustration and felt something slip on her left wrist.

  Azurha froze, scared she’d hallucinated the sensation. She twisted her wrist again, and the manacle scraped along her bracelet. Hope replaced the pessimism that had bound her soul. She retreated to the wall to create some slack in the chains and began to shimmy the manacle up her arm.

  Several minutes passed as the metal cuff inched further along her bracelet with each half twist. If she could manage to get it off her bracelet, she could remove the thick gold band and maybe squeeze her hand through the manacle.

  The metal bit into her forearm as it moved up, shedding a layer of her skin with its progress. The sting brought tears to her eyes. She bit her bottom lip and continued with the subtle side to side twisting motion.

  At last, she felt the clunk she was searching for. The manacle had moved above her bracelet, and she blindly fumbled for the hidden pin that would release the gold cuff from her wrist. After a few seconds, she found it. The bracelet fell to the ground with a thud that echoed off the walls, and her heart grew lighter. Despite the pain that throbbed in her left arm, she was one step closer to freedom.

  The manacle was sticky with what she could only imagine was her blood when she wrapped her right hand around it. A quick jerk pulled it down to her hand. Azurha bit back a scream as the cold air bathed her raw skin with hundreds of pin-pricks. It took several deep breaths to fight off the trembling pain that threatened to overtake her.

  I can’t give up now. I’m so close.

  She repeated those words over and over again until she gathered enough courage to begin the next arduous task— squeezing her hand through the small metal ring. With her thumb pressed against her little finger to make her palm as narrow as possible, she tried to slide the manacle over her hand. As with her forearm, she met the same resistance, and the metal edge became a dull razor blade. A sob broke free from her throat while she repeated the same shimmying motion as before. Warm, wet blood coated he
r hand and acted as a lubricant, allowing her to slide the manacle a fraction of an inch before the pain halted her movement.

  Her jaw ached from gritting her teeth, and her stomach lurched with each tug. Waves of nausea rolled up to the top of her throat and made her fatigued arms tremble. But the manacle refused to budge any further, no matter how hard she pulled.

  She’d tried, and she’d failed.

  Azurha leaned against the wall, pressing her throbbing hand against the cold stone to ease the tenderness. The only way she was getting free was if the gods bestowed some miracle on her. They had in the past. The shard of pottery Ramina had given her granted her freedom in more than one way. But no one would come to her aid here. Only a key could free her this time. And while she rotted away in this cell, Pontus could be plunging a dagger into Titus’s back.

  The image of Titus lying dead on the ground stirred a new emotion inside her. It heated her veins and pounded through her fatigued muscles, reviving them with the power of anger. As long as she still breathed, she refused to give up on saving Titus. She squeezed her left hand tight and gave one final yank.

  The sensation of flesh being torn from her hand manifested in a shrill scream, and her head spun. But when the world righted itself again, Azurha looked down at the freed hand in her lap. It worked. She’d gotten one hand free. Now she just needed to do the same to the other side.

  She set to work twisting the manacle off of her right bracelet until sounds from outside her cell made her pause.

  A chair being knocked over.

  A man’s voice calling out for help and ending in a gurgle. Sounds she was all too familiar with after the number of throats she’d slit.

  Torchlight flickered through the gaps in the door, growing brighter as the footsteps became louder. Her heart pounded, and her mouth went dry. Someone was coming for her. Was it a friend or a foe?