The Winged Serpent (The Order of the Oath)

by Nadia Aidan

  Aurora wanted to tell Artemisia that it was worse than that even. That Claudius did this with the children of parents he also did not favor—children of freeborn citizens of Rome, which by law were not to be forcibly sold into slavery.

  “I am sorry,” was what she did say. “Where is Maia now?”

  “I do not know, but I mean to find out.”

  “How?”

  Artemisia shrugged. “I suppose I shall ask Claudius some day. Before I gain my freedom and leave from here, I will ask him of Maia’s whereabouts.”

  “Do you think he will tell you honestly?”

  “He has no reason not to. He already made a profit off of her, and that was truly all he wanted. He has nothing to lose by telling me the truth.”

  But neither did he stand to gain anything in return. By all appearances, Claudius was not given to undue cruelty, but if Maia had spurned him…he may very well have a twisted wish that she suffer.

  “Is there no one else, Cornelia perhaps, who knows the truth of your sister’s whereabouts? Cornelia seems to favor you, maybe she would tell you.”

  “I know for a certainty Cornelia does not know how her husband fills their chests with denarii. She is so ignorant of these things. No, if there are others within this house who know of Claudius’ doings, then I am not aware of them.”

  Aurora wondered how ignorant Cornelia truly was, or if that was simply a ruse. But she believed Artemisia in that it was probably true Cornelia did not know the details of Claudius’ dealings.

  “But what if something happens to Claudius? How will you find Maia then?”

  Artemisia looked at her sharply. “I do not know how I would find Maia or even where to begin, which is why nothing can happen to him.”

  Aurora did not mistake the warning tone of Artemisia’s voice. That her voice did not waver as she told the lie that she had no choice but to tell, was only the result of her years of training within The Order.

  “I did not mean to suggest that anything untoward should happen to Claudius. I know you shall find your sister. I have no doubt.”

  Artemisia seemed to accept her words because she relaxed at once, an easy smile spreading across her face as she lay down upon her pallet. Aurora decided she’d done too well in putting the girl at ease, because with her thoughts no longer fraught with concern for her sister, Artemisia turned her concern to Aurora.

  “Are you ready for the games?”

  She closed her eyes and let out a long, heavy sigh. The games. She’d done her best to forget them.

  “Cyrus asked me the same question and I will tell you as I told him—I will be fine.”

  * * * *

  “She tells me she will be fine.”

  Claudius looked at him crossly. “That is not what I wish to know. I care not how she performs in the arena on the morrow. Not if she is who I believe her to be.”

  Cyrus stood within Claudius’ private chambers, having been summoned by his master to report of anything he’d heard, anything he’d learned.

  Since Aurora had come to the ludus, and Claudius had seen her fight, Cyrus had been instructed to watch her closely.

  “She is no typical gladiator,” Claudius had said. “She fights with a finesse seen only within the ranks of the Praetorian Guard. Watch her closely, and tell me if you suspect her of being sent here to harm me.”

  Cyrus had thought Claudius to be suffering from a bout of irrational paranoia. A simple slave sent to kill a provincial governor? It had seemed a bit absurd, until that night at Senator Vibius’ home.

  Now Cyrus was not certain of what to think, or what to do. Since she’d stopped Claudius from drinking poison, and by all appearances had ‘saved’ his life, Claudius seemed to be growing softer toward Aurora, but he still held on to his suspicions.

  And for good reason, Cyrus thought. Aurora was not who she seemed. That did not make her an assassin, but neither did he rule her out. Yet, Aurora was the least of Cyrus’ worries. Cornelia was the immediate danger, the very real threat—to Claudius and to himself.

  Cyrus still wavered on telling Claudius the truth about his wife—mostly out of self-preservation. Cornelia was a vicious woman. If Cyrus revealed her, she would not hesitate to drag him down with her.

  He required a sound strategy on how to deal with Claudius’ wife before he would risk himself by exposing her. Until he devised such a plan, Claudius seemed content to focus his attentions upon Aurora, which Cyrus believed to be a mistake, but was blessedly thankful for the time it afforded him to arrive at a solution to the dilemma that was Cornelia.

  “Aurora has not revealed to me anything that would suggest she plots against you, dominus.” That much was true. From what he could tell, Aurora was not actually plotting. That was all Cornelia.

  “Well what of anyone else? Has anyone told you of something she said to them?”

  “No, dominus. All those close to her, I have questioned, and they say nothing. It would seem she is nothing more than a gladiator.”

  Claudius seemed to consider his words. “Very well. I purposely gave her leave to walk about this ludus because if she is guilty she will not be able to resist the opportunity to take advantage of her position. If her actions are suspicious, my guards will note this, but I still want you to continue to draw closer to her. Fuck her if you have to.” The leer upon his face caused a red haze to distort Cyrus’ vision. “If you haven’t already.”

  Cyrus balled his hands at his sides, his teeth gnashing together so he would not lash out and strike Claudius. What he shared with Aurora, what had happened between them, had nothing to do with Claudius and his idiotic suspicions. What he shared with Aurora, what he did with her had no place in any discussion he had with Claudius.

  “I will continue to keep a close eye on her, dominus.”

  “Yes, and report to me immediately if you learn anything of importance.”

  Cyrus bowed his head at Claudius’ dismissal and departed from the room.

  As Cyrus stalked through the empty corridors, he could do nothing else but think of Aurora. He was a fool, to find himself entangled with Claudius, to find himself involved in such intrigue. When he’d agreed to serve as Claudius’ spy, the promise of freedom had been enough.

  But now—now?

  He sighed when liquid topaz eyes and silken copper skin filled his vision. His body tightened, the blood in his veins, rushing faster, pumping harder until his skin was covered in a fine sheen of sweat. The groan that escaped him was as anguished as it was needy.

  If Aurora ever discovered he reported to Claudius with information about her—a fist slammed into his gut at the very thought. She did not give others her trust, her affections. When he’d made love to her, as he’d been inside her, Cyrus knew he’d touched a piece of her soul. It scared her as much as it scared him, but it did not make what had happened between them any less real.

  If Aurora ever discovered he betrayed her, she would never forgive him.

  And then what will you do? Cyrus demanded of himself. He would be lost. In all his life he’d never met a woman such as her, he’d never known a woman with whom he shared such passion, who was as strong as she was vulnerable, as fierce as she was tender.

  He swore to himself, and then he swore to the gods. He was losing himself, his very soul to the woman he betrayed every time he was summoned to Claudius, and he hated himself because of this, he hated what he had to do.

  Cyrus decided then he would have to tell Aurora the truth—that he spied for Claudius, that she was under suspicion. He headed in the direction of the training arena where he knew he would find her practicing for the morrow’s games.

  He turned the corner, making his way from the abode proper to the outer colonnade, but came to an immediate halt when a figure blocked his path.

  He’d known he would have to face her at some point, he just hated that it had to be now.

  “Cyrus.” Cornelia smiled, the curling of her lips managed to be both sensual and sinister—a stark dichotomy
which only Cornelia would be capable of.

  “Domina.”

  “I have not seen you since the festivities at dear Senator Vibius’ home, but I have longed to.”

  Cyrus remained quiet, the only hint he gave that he’d even heard her was the lifting of one imperious brow.

  She did not mistake his expression, so instead of continuing with her farce, she said instead, “I shall not insult you with pretenses.” Her face hardened, her eyes now sharp and cold as ice. “I know why you go to my husband almost daily,”

  Cyrus stood completely still as she began to circle him like a starved, caged jaguar ready to feed. “That nothing untoward has happened to me tells me you are wise. I suggest you continue to display such wisdom if you wish no harm to come to yourself.” Her eyes narrowed. “Or to Aurora.”

  Cyrus did not know what demon took hold of him and possessed him to do such a thing, because if anyone had come upon him in that moment, he would have been struck down instantly. But Aurora’s name on this bitch’s lips caused everything inside of him to snap.

  His hand curled around her neck at the same time he pressed her up against the wall and held her there, his grip firm. Her eyes bulged, but she was wise not to move even the slightest muscle.

  “Leave Aurora out of this, and I will leave your name out of my reports to your husband—for now.” His hand tightened just a fraction, just enough so his threat was as clear as hers had been. “Your treachery will be revealed, either by me or someone else, and when that day comes I will prepare myself for your wrath, and whatever comes with it. But if anything happens to Aurora, I will use my last breath to kill you.” He released her and stepped away calmly, as if he had not just raged with murderous intent.

  Cyrus did not speak another word as he turned to leave.

  Cornelia did not say another word as she let him.

  Their discussion was over, but the message had been clear.

  Cornelia was safe as long as she left Aurora alone.

  Cyrus was safe as long as he remained quiet.

  At best, it was a tenuous truce, one Cyrus knew would not last long. Cornelia was not one to be beholden to anyone. She would soon find a way to dispatch of him, and Claudius with him.

  Cyrus entered the training field and when his searching gaze settled upon her, he soon forgot of his troubles with Cornelia, his reports to Claudius. The tightness within his chest eased, the tension straining his muscles drained away, and the lines upon his face disappeared. Seeing her brought a welcome light to his existence.

  Training Aurora had become almost bittersweet. Every time he spoke to her, it was to convey instructions. Every time he touched her, it was brief. As her doctoris, he could show her no favor, he was forced to pretend as if she was the same as all the others. When he was her doctoris, he could not be her lover, and it was killing him as he fought to separate the two.

  She’d been in the middle of thrusting her gladius into the belly of her imaginary opponent, but the moment he stepped upon the sand of the arena, she stopped.

  As if she sensed he was there, as if she could feel him, she turned, her eyes combing through the darkness. And when he drew closer, she smiled.

  They were alone within the arena, the other fighters had retired for the day and the guards had taken up their posts elsewhere, so when he reached her, he pulled her into his arms, and held her to him, his lips finding hers in a kiss full of passion and need.

  He had not been with her since their first time together many days ago, and he ached for her. It was killing him to pretend as if he was not her lover when he trained her, when all he wished to be was her lover and nothing else.

  It killed him even more that the both of them had been dragged into the deceit of Claudius and Cornelia, that their masters threatened to destroy them both. Wasn’t it enough they’d taken their freedom? Cyrus did not think it fair that Claudius and his wife threatened not only their lives, but the tenuous bond growing between him and Aurora.

  Aurora was the one to break their kiss, and she reared back, her hands palming his face, her brow creased with worry. “Cyrus, what is it?”

  He barely let her finish before he grasped her hand and dragged her toward the bluffs. Within a house full of slaves and guards, a damp tunnel was the only place where he could be safely alone with her.

  He did not answer her until they were inside the quiet haven that belonged to only them. Actually he did not answer her then either, at least not truly. He simply pulled her into his arms, his voice raw and aching when he whispered, “I need you.”

  The answering heat within her eyes awakened the primitive beast inside of him as she tangled her hands within his hair, holding him close.

  He did not meet her lips this time, instead he buried his face within the crook of her neck and filled his lungs with the scent of her. Her skin was warm beneath his lips and his eyes slid shut, while his hands gripped her hips. She embraced him, without question, without words as she simply held him to her, the heat of her body providing solace, though he did not deserve it.

  He left a trail of kisses along the edge of her collarbone, against her neck, making his way slowly back to her lips. Her eyelids fluttered closed when he settled his mouth against hers and plunged inside her with his tongue.

  Cyrus groaned when he felt her shudder, the trembling force of her body vibrating through him. As he devoured her with his lips, he pushed the woolen fabric of her tunica aside, his palm sliding up and down the length of her thighs.

  She moaned into his mouth, and he swallowed it, drawing her breath inside him. His fingers found their way to her core, dripping with her arousal. On one smooth thrust, he speared her, drinking in her gasp of surprise, of pleasure.

  Her body closed around him, clenching tight, and he ached to be inside her with his cock, the heat of her tunnel drawing him in, her sheath fluttering around his hard flesh as she found release.

  He was quick to remove her garment, spreading it across the jagged ground. Cyrus moved with urgency as he stretched out along the floor of the cave and pulled her down atop him.

  She straddled his hips, the warmth of her pulsing against his swelling shaft until he imagined he would go mad if he did not bury himself inside her soon. He plunged one hand into her hair, at the same time he crushed his lips to hers.

  Her mouth parted beneath the brutal onslaught of his kiss, taking every measure he gave her as she yielded sweetly.

  With his other hand, he undid the leather bindings of his braca and curled his hand firmly around his engorged length to remove it from the confines of the garment. Heat throbbed through him, pulsing within his veins, between his legs, and Cyrus wrenched his lips from hers, his breath hot against her face as he stared into her heavy-lidded eyes.

  Lust shimmered in their depths, and his belly furled tighter when her gaze drifted to his hardened flesh. She slid down his body to curl her hand around him, and he breathed out her name, his hips bucking off the ground as she pumped him slowly, gently at first, then rougher and faster.

  A tiny droplet of his seed pearled at the tip, and when she dipped her head to swipe it away with her tongue, every measure of his control vanished.

  He gripped her hips, dragging her along the length of his body until he held her wide and open above him, the crown of his manhood nudging against her opening.

  She was wet and warm as he surged into her, plunging to her very depths.

  He groaned out her name, hoarse and raw as she sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes sliding shut. He’d barely entered her before her tunnel began clutching and gripping him like a hot, tight fist.

  She was beautiful as she rode him, her head thrown back, her lips parted as her fingers curled around his shoulders. Her nails pierced his flesh, but he ignored the pain, savoring only the pleasure, and the wondrous heat of her surrounding him.

  The sensuous rocking of her body against his fanned the flames of desire within him until he was quivering and shaking with barely restrained passion. He
palmed her breasts, massaging the soft weight until her nipples budded tight. Her body responded to the new sensations by drenching him and she impaled herself faster, harder upon his cock until she arched, crying out his name on a panting moan.

  She shattered around him, pulsing and tightening with her release. He wanted to savor her climax, bask in it, but the demands of his body battered him from within until he was powerless against the sensations assaulting him. His voice became guttural, strained with passion as he pumped and thrust up into her, rocking his hips until he erupted like a volcano. He groaned low and deep, spurting within her channel until he was spent, until he had nothing left to give her.

  When she collapsed atop his body, he held her to him, his hands roaming across her sweat slick back to keep her warm from the chill of the encroaching night. Silence hovered between them, the only sounds to be heard were the rolling of waves onto the sand and their steady breaths.

  Cyrus knew, however, that the blissful silence was soon to end because Aurora was brimming with questions, and he could feel her entire body strained with tension.

  He sighed when she lifted her head from his chest, his hand stilling against the small of her back.

  “Will you now tell me what has you so upset?” she asked in a quiet voice.

  He did not pretend ignorance, but neither did he open himself up and pour forth his soul.

  He glanced away, drawing in a small breath. “Claudius is suspicious of you,” he said finally.

  “Because of what happened at the senator’s home?”

  He nodded. “And because of your timely arrival, who you are. He knows you are no common gladiator.”

  Her brows lifted. “And what about you? What do you think?”

  “You already know what I think,” he replied, “but it matters not. It only matters what Claudius thinks, which is why I am telling you this. I simply wish to caution you in your dealings with him and his wife.”