I think of Thoktar in the arena, how his words pierced the minotaur's madness, how I saw the warrior he'd been beneath the monster they'd made him.
"Where is this Romas now?" Thoktar asks.
"Miltar," Rophan says without hesitation. "Most likely living the life of a hero. My villa claimed, my name stamped into mud.” The minotaur's eyes burn with cold fire. "One day, I will have my revenge. One day, Romas will pay."
The promise hangs and I don't doubt he means every word.
Nazim produces food from the stores—dried meat, hard bread, cheese that's seen better days but remains edible. We eat in contemplative silence, each lost in our own thoughts. The simple act of sharing a meal feels like luxury after the horrors of the arena.
"Rest," Nazim says eventually. "I'll take first watch. The wards will hold, but prudence costs nothing."
Nazim guesters toward the small rooms. Rophan chooses the one closest to the entrance, still a guard even in sanctuary. Nazim coils in the main chamber, his yellow eyes reflecting what little light remains.
Thoktar takes my hand and leads me the room he has chosen for us. We lie down on the furs on the floor, his warmth radiating through the cool underground air.
"Forla," he whispers.
"I'm here," I whisper back.
In the dim light of the room, I can see everything I've been holding back reflected in his eyes. We've been through hell together, separately and side by side. We've faced death and betrayal and loss, but we've survived. We're here, together, alive.
"I thought I'd lost you," I breathe, moving closer to him. "When they dragged you away, when I found Talia and Brom..."
"I know." He reaches out, his fingers finding mine in the darkness. "But you didn't. You found me. You saved me."
"We saved each other."
His hand is warm in mine, calloused from weapons but gentle in touch.
"When I was in those cells," he continues, "when I thought I might never see you again, I held onto something."
"What?"
He releases my hand just long enough to pull out the small carved charm I made for him, still hidden beneath his shirt where the guards never found it.
"You," he says simply. "Always you."
My breath catches, and then I'm moving closer, my body drawn to his like iron to a lodestone. Our lips meet in the darkness, desperate and grateful and full of all the words we haven't had time to speak.
The kiss starts soft, grateful, almost reverent.
Then it detonates.
Thoktar’s hand spears into my hair, twists until my scalp stings, and he drags my head back so hard my throat is a long, helpless line for his mouth. His tusks scrape my pulse, teeth sinking in just enough to bruise.
“I’m done being gentle tonight,” he growls against my skin. “You want to taste every fucking inch of my woman before the world tries to take her from me again.”
I whimper, already soaking through what’s left of my ruined dress.
He rips it off me in one violent yank. Fabric tears like paper. Cool air kisses my bare skin and I shiver, but his huge body cages me against the furs, heat pouring off him like a forge.
“On your back. Legs open. Show me what’s mine.”
I obey instantly, spreading wide, knees falling to the sides, offering my dripping pussy to him like tribute. He drops between my thighs without ceremony, shoulders forcing me even wider, and buries his face and feasts.
His tongue is rough, merciless. He licks a long, filthy stripe from my asshole to my clit, groans like a starving animal, then does it again. And again. And again. Until I’m sobbing, hips bucking, trying to ride his face.
He pins my thighs down with forearms thicker than my waist and sucks my clit into his mouth so hard my vision whites out. Two thick fingers slam into my cunt, curling, pumping, while his tongue lashes without rhythm or mercy.
