Then he leans out the door. “He’s secure, Dominus.”

Drusus steps into the room with his other bodyguard behind him. The lanista’s icy blue eyes look right into mine, but mine drift to the flagellum in his hand. It isn’t the one Arabo used my first night here. The lashes are longer. Stiffer. Knotted. There may even be metal or stones tied to the ends, unless it’s just the leather catching the dim, flickering torchlight.

Whatever I’ve seen in his eyes during a few strange, silent moments, it’s gone now, and the man facing me is the one who’s earned the fearsome reputation I’d heard about as far away as Rome.

Barely turning his head, Drusus says, “Leave us.”

The bodyguards don’t hesitate. They leave the room, and as soon as they’re gone, Drusus locks the door behind them.

He faces me again. “Tell me why I shouldn’t just kill you, gladiator.” He touches his lip, then turns his hand to show me the smear of blood darkening the ends of his fine fingers. “For this, I could crucify—”

“I had to get you alone,” I say quietly. “You’re in danger, Drusus. I—”

“What?” He steps closer, his eyes boring into mine. “Speak, gladiator. What danger?”

I lower my voice. “I didn’t come to your ludus of my own free will.”

Drusus draws back, arms folded across his breastplate, fingers still wrapped tightly around the handle of the flagellum. “Explain.”

“I’m not a citizen or even a freedman,” I say. “And I didn’t volunteer. I’m a slave, and I was sent here with false documents.” I look Drusus in the eyes. “Forgive me. My master is Calvus Laurea.”

His lips part.

“He sent me to your ludus.” I shift as much as the chains will allow. “Forged the papers for my status as a citizen, and my approval from the magistrate to volunteer as an auctoratus. The money? The five hundred sestertii from the magistrate?” I shake my head. “It came from Calvus. If I spoke of him to you or anyone else in the ludus, he threatened to have the magistrate ask if you received the full seven hundred sestertii.”

Drusus laughs dryly. “That does sound like Calvus Laurea.” Then he furrows his brow. “But why did he send you into my familia?”

I hesitate, gnawing my lip. “He is certain Verina is carrying on an affair with one of the men here, and he charged me with finding that man and revealing his name.”

In a heartbeat, the hostility vanishes from the lanista’s face. So does most of the color. The flagellum in his hand slips a little. “What have you told him?”

I shake my head. “Nothing. But I believe the Master Laurea is trying to kill you or Verina. Perhaps both of you.”

More color drains from Drusus’s face.

I avoid his eyes. “An attempt has already been made. This morning. In the market.”

Drusus stiffens. He steps closer, almost touching me. “How do you know this?”

Still keeping my eyes down, I whisper, “Because I stopped him.”

“You . . .” He pauses, and I imagine his eyebrow arching upward as it often does. “You stopped him?”

“Yes, Dominus.”

He cups my jaw in his calloused hand, though he doesn’t grip it hard, and raises my chin so we’re looking at each other, which does nothing to slow my thundering heart.

“You stopped him,” he says. It isn’t a question.

“Yes.”

“So you were there.” He releases my face. “In the market.”

“Yes.” I sweep my tongue across my dry lips. “I followed you.”

“I see.”

“It wasn’t the first time,” I say. “I . . . wanted to be sure. That my suspicions were correct.”

His eyes narrow and his lips tighten. “So that you could report back to your master.”

“No,” I reply quickly. “No, I . . . perhaps when I first came here, yes, I would have, but I . . .” Gods, it’s impossible to think when he’s this close to me. “I’ve reported nothing back. I swear it. Nor do I intend to.”

“Even though you have your orders?”

I nod. “And when I realized someone else intended to do you or Verina harm, I had to stop him.”

Drusus regards me silently for a long moment. “The man who made the attempt, what of him now? Is he still a threat?”

“No. He isn’t.” I swallow. “He’s dead.”

Drusus’s eyes lose focus. “Iovita.”

“Yes.” I hesitate. “Forgive me, Dominus. I know this isn’t my place. But if you see her again, I have no doubt you’ll be in grave danger. Both of you.”

Drusus winces. “I know.” He absently touches below his nose, dabbing away some of the blood.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I didn’t know how else to get you alone without rousing suspicion.”

“Suspicion?” he asks. “Suspicion of what?”

“The men. They suspect I am either favored by you or spying. Betraying them. I was warned against meeting you alone again. This was . . .” I exhale hard, flexing my wrists inside the shackles. “I needed to get you alone. Without the men believing it was to give you information.”

“And you came to my ludus to obtain information.” He looks in my eyes. “Information which you now have.” Neither his face nor his tone betray any emotion at all. “Why are you telling me and not the Master Laurea?”

I don’t have an answer. Not one I can put into words.

“Calvus Laurea could kill you for this,” Drusus says. “As could the other men in the familia.” He hesitates. “As could I.”

“I know.”

“And yet you did it anyway,” he says, more to himself than to me. “Why?”

I can barely breathe. “What else would you have me do?”

“What your master sent you here to do.” His eyes dart to one chained wrist, then the other. “Kill me if he ordered it.”

I wet my lips. “He hasn’t.”

“Not yet,” he says. “But you believe he ordered Iovita to kill me?”

“You, and possibly the Lady Verina. He may have ordered others, too. I can’t say for certain.”

Drusus’s piercing blue eyes are still locked on mine, and I wonder if I’d be able to stand at all if not for the chains holding me upright. His voice is hard but quiet as he says, “And if he does command you to do the same now that Iovita has failed?”

“I won’t.” I hold his gaze. “I swear it, I won’t.”

He’s silent for a long, long time. The tip of his tongue worries at the corner of his mouth, and the flagellum’s tails whisper against each other as he shifts his weight, but he doesn’t look away from me. I can’t look anywhere but right back at him.

Eventually, Drusus’s gaze slides toward the flagellum tucked into the crook of his arm. “The other men . . .” He glances at me. “If you leave this room without a mark—”

“I know. I knew before I hit you.” The chains rattle as I try in vain to get comfortable, and I steel myself. “Do what you must.”

Lips apart and brow furrowed, Drusus stares at me, more confused than I’ve ever seen him. “You’ve been whipped before. You know it’s—”

“Yes.” I suppress a shudder. “I do.”

We look at each other. Neither of us moves. Neither speaks.

After a long moment, he tucks the flagellum under his arm. “Thank you, Saevius.” He reaches for my face. “You’ve done more than you can possibly imagine.”

Before I can speak, he raises himself up and presses his lips to mine. We’re both still, not even breathing, until he pulls back and looks in my eyes. Then his hand curves around the back of my neck, and he kisses me again, harder this time. Gods, every look he’s given me makes sense now, as does every look I’ve ever given him, and even the fear and anticipation of pain rushing through my veins can’t temper the heat his kiss ignites.

He parts his lips, and I tilt my head as he welcomes my tongue into his mouth. His kiss is intoxicating, perhaps because I never expected it and perhaps because it’s Drusus, and I curl my hands into fists, straining against the shackles and chains, but they refuse to give. No matter how hard I try, I cannot touch him.

Drusus breaks away, and our eyes meet. He’s out of breath. So am I.

He looks at the flagellum again. “Gods help me, I can’t do this.” He releases a breath and caresses my cheekbone with the pad of his thumb. “Not after you’ve quite possibly saved Verina’s life. And mine.”