Page 101 of House of Serpents and Slaves

"The woman you love doesn't exist." The truth of it burned like acid. "She's just a dream you created, someone soft enough to want your quiet life. But I'm not her, Marcus. I never was."

The ludus doors finally splintered behind him, and I watched him glance back, before looking back up at me.

"Then who are you?" he asked, and I saw in his eyes that he already knew the answer, had always known it, just never wanted to accept it.

"I'm the daughter of a burning village," I said quietly. "I'm a dragon rider. I'm the fire of vengeance they'll never see coming. Through blood and steel, I will forge myself into the instrument of their destruction. And I can't be anything else, not even for you."

He swallowed, and stepped backwards towards the door, and I felt my heart shatter inside me.

"Be safe," he whispered, the words carrying a finality that cut deeper than any blade. "Be..." He stopped, seeming to realize there was nothing left to say that wouldn't be another attempt to change me, to tame me into something I wasn't.

The other gladiators' victory cries echoed across the arena, calling him back to the only life he could understand, the only freedom he could imagine. One where the chains were visible, where the rules were clear, where survival meant knowing your place.

He turned away, each step widening the gulf between us - between his dreams of earned freedom and my wild, desperate need for something more. Between the woman he wanted me to be and the avenger I had always been.

I watched him walk away, memorizing the straight line of his shoulders, the proud set of his head. The way he'd always carried himself like a free man, even in chains. That had been what I'd first loved about him - his unbreakable dignity. Now it was what was taking him away from me.

The dragon shifted restlessly beneath me, its muscles coiling with the need for flight. Through our connection, I felt its understanding of loss, of leaving what you love behind to survive. Perhaps that's why it had chosen me - it recognized something of itself in my broken pieces.

"Goodbye," I whispered, though he was too far away to hear it now. Just a silhouette in the doorway, straight-backed and certain. My strength, my anchor no more.

The dragon gathered itself, muscles coiling like springs beneath me, and in that moment our hearts beat as one - both of us caged creatures about to taste true freedom. The power building in its body thrummed through me, electric and wild, a storm about to break.

Its wings spread wide, midnight black against the flame-lit sky, and the downdraft sent debris scattering across the blood-stained sand. The very air seemed to hold its breath as the dragon tensed, preparing for that first mighty leap toward the stars. I pressed myself against its neck, feeling the heat of its scales, the thunder of its heart matching my own frantic pulse. The chains that had once bound us became my lifeline as I wrapped them tight around my hands. Behind me, Tarshi's arm locked around my waist, his breath quick with anticipation against my shoulder. I prayed that Septimus had found something to hold onto.

Then the world tilted, and my stomach lurched as the dragon launched us skyward. The ground fell away in a dizzying rush, the arena shrinking beneath us as we clawed our way into the smoke-filled night. The wind tore at my clothes, stung my eyes, sang in my ears with the voice of freedom.

As we lifted away from the blood-soaked sand, I saw Marcus one last time through the smoke - a lone figure reaching toward something already gone, while around him, our world burned to ashes. Then he too was gone.

Higher we climbed, each powerful beat of those magnificent wings carrying us further from the earth, from captivity, from everything I'd ever known. Below us, the burning city spread out like a map of fireflies, the chaos of the rebellion reduced to tiny, distant movements.

Through our connection, I felt the dragon's fierce joy, its exaltation at finally breaking free of its earthbound prison. Its emotions crashed through me like waves - triumph, liberation,an almost painful ecstasy at feeling the wind beneath its wings again after so long.

We burst through the layer of smoke into a clear, star-strewn sky, and I gasped at the pure, cold air. Up here, above the chaos and pain, above the burning remains of my old life, I felt something shift inside me. The last chains fell away - not just the physical ones that had bound me to the arena, but the invisible ones: fear, doubt, the desperate need to be what others wanted.

Banking into the wind, we joined the other rebels on their dragons, a deadly dance of shadows against the night sky. Below us, Marcus and his choice grew smaller and smaller, until they were just another light in the burning city we left behind.

I was no longer bound to the earth or to anyone's dreams but my own. I was a creature of air and fire now, of vengeance and storm. As we soared higher into the darkness, I threw back my head and let out a cry that was half laugh, half sob - the sound of a caged bird finally spreading its wings, of a weapon finally finding its true purpose.

The night wrapped around us like a cloak as we turned east, toward the distant mountains where my enemies waited, unknowing. Behind us, the city burned, and with it, the last traces of the woman I might have been. Ahead lay only wind and stars, and the promise of retribution.

Epilogue

Iwatched until she vanished into the smoke-laden sky, just another shadow among the dragons wheeling above the burning city. My chest felt hollow, like someone had carved out everything that mattered and left only echoes behind. But there was no time for grief. All around me, my brothers were regrouping, bloodied but alive, the heat of battle still coursing through their veins.

Screams pierced the night air – not the controlled roars of the arena, but the raw terror of civilians facing death. Somewhere in the city, buildings collapsed with the sound of splintering woodand shattering stone. The smell of burning flesh mixed with the smoke, making my gorge rise.

"Marcus!" Varo's voice cut through the chaos. He was bleeding from a gash above his eye, but his grip was steady on the guard's sword he'd claimed. "The gates won't hold much longer."

He was right. The main doors of the ludus shuddered under the impact of what sounded like a battering ram. We had maybe minutes before they gave way. I could feel my men looking to me, waiting for direction. They'd followed me in the arena, trusted me to keep them alive against impossible odds. Now they needed that same leadership.

The doors cracked again, and suddenly Drusus was there, appearing from the shadows of the corridor like a rat fleeing a sinking ship. Six guards flanked him, their weapons drawn. His usual carefully composed expression had cracked, showing the fear beneath. But his voice still carried that familiar tone of casual ownership that made my hands itch to close around his throat.

"Get to the animal pens, all of you!" he commanded, as if we were still his property to order about. "We can barricade ourselves in until the legion restores order."

"The townspeople need defenders," I countered, stepping forward. "We're trained warriors. We can help protect the civilians, organize an evacuation-"

"The townspeople?" He laughed, but there was a hysterical edge to it. "Why would I waste valuable property defending worthless peasants? Your place is protecting your master, or have you forgotten what you are?"

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