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Tiberius tilts his sword down and pushes it in the guy’s freaking neck and down his body. It goes through his throat and at the angle down his torso, on the inside.

It’s so gross, but seriously, it’s the coolest thing I’ve ever seen. I should be horrified, my husband just killed someone right in front of me, but I can’t help but stare in complete awe that he did it in one simple, swift move.

“Do you have anything to share?” he asks the man standing next to the dead guy.

The still-breathing guy sinks to his knees and bows his head. “No, Emperor,” he whimpers.

“Wrong answer,” Tiberius barks, then chops his head off, again, one-armed and in one swift move.

Then, as if that wasn’t badass enough, he wipes the blood off on the corpse, shoves his sword back in the scabbard and continues to walk through the crowd as if he did absolutely nothing at all.

Scary, gross, and badass all at the same time.

TIBERIUS

Guiding Drucilla up toward our seat at the podium level of the arena. It has been a while since we have had games, trials, or competitions. The people are hyped up and ready to see a good fight, I cannot deny that I feel the same way.

Although, I will not tolerate disrespect, not toward me, and definitely not toward my empress. If you do not take control of a situation, of your surroundings, then they will certainly take control of you.

I cannot allow disrespect by my people.

I must always appear to be the strongest and most powerful man in my empire, if I do not, then others will think that they can not only best me, but take control of my empire, my home, my family, and my empress.

I will not allow that, not now, not ever.

Once I arrive at the podium level of the arena, I dip my chin toward the smaller of the two chairs in the center and Drucilla takes my silent cue correctly, slowly taking her seat. When she is seated, I then take my own chair.

Looking straight out at the crowd, I smile to myself at the sight. There are thousands of my people sitting in the stands waiting for the games to begin. Shifting my gaze to Drucilla, I notice that she too is staring at all of the people, her lips parted in awe and that makes my chest puff out with pride.

“Your people,” I murmur.

“I didn’t realize,” she breathes.

“They’ve come from neighboring towns and villages, it isn’t all of them, naturally.”

She turns to me, her eyes wide and almost bright. “I just, when you are called an Emperor, I didn’t realize.”

My lips curve up into a grin. Reaching out, I take her hand in mine and bring it to my lips. Touching the backs of her fingers, I taste her skin for just a moment, my eyes focused on hers. I want her, my desire grows stronger for my mulier every passing moment that I do not take her.

There is a loud horn sounding and I hear Cassia squeal behind me and I know that the games are about to begin. Lowering Drucilla’s hand, I do not release it as I shift and turn toward the arena.

The crowd’s cheering and excitement grows from a low hum to a vibrating, almost deafening boom as it fills the space around us. Looking down, I watch as the warriors fill the space. They are all dressed similarly to me, something that I can’t seem to quit doing even though I should be wearing the traditional toga like the rest of the men in my position.

Standing, I release Drucilla’s hand and step closer to the edge of the podium level. The crowd noise simmers down to a low rumble and only then do I speak.

“Thank you, warriors, for coming to the games to show your talents. Thank you, people of Savona, for coming to celebrate the union between me and Empress Drucilla. I look forward to serving you all for many years to come. Let us celebrate and enjoy today and tonight.”

Again, the crowd roars and I lift my hand, signaling for the games to begin. And they do. The men leave the arena save two. Those two men square with one another, walking around one another, grinning as they taunt each other.

The announcer uses his horn and the men take that as their signal to begin. Pulling their gladius out of their scabbards, the games have begun. The games that only have one ending, and one winner. Fighting to the death.

No losers survive, only winners.

Just as in real life.

Chapter Thirty

DRUCILLA

It shouldn’t be sexy.

Watching men kill one another, it should be terrifying. Just like watching my own husband kill two men in cold blood should be terrifying as well, but for whatever crazy as shit reason, I’m not scared at all.

I’m almost turned on.

Well, not at the sight of the blood or the people actually dying, but at the sport of it all. The way the sun shines down, the way their massive bodies move as if they’re doing an effortless dance, the way everything they do seems effortless.

I’m mesmerized by everything around me, even the death. When the sun begins to set, a winner is announced and everyone cheers. Looking around, I notice that the stands are just as full as they were when we first arrived.

Reaching over to the small table at my side, I lift the goblet of wine to my lips, wishing it was water. It’s hot out here, but thankfully I’ve been covered beneath a large canvas-type fabric to shield my skin from the rays of the sun. As much as I like to think that I’m immune to the sun’s harsh intensity by being a Florida resident, I am not.

“What happens now?” I ask, turning to look over at Tiberius.

He hasn’t spoken to me once since we arrived, and I’m honestly cool with that because I was far too engrossed in the action to chitchat.

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