The sun scorched down on the arena, the roar of the crowd echoing like thunder. Alastor, the undefeated gladiator with a sinister grin and eyes that shimmered with wicked delight, stood tall, blood-smeared and victorious. But today, he didn’t smile for the applause. His eyes were already drifting—searching.

Up in the Emperor’s box, veiled by silk curtains and surrounded by guards, you sat, poised and elegant. Y/N, the emperor’s only daughter. Golden jewelry adorned your arms, but your heart felt caged in something far heavier than gold. Every fight below made you wince, every drop of blood made you wonder what freedom truly looked like.

And yet, your eyes always found him—Alastor. There was something different about him. Not just the eerie charm he carried or the grace with which he fought. It was in the way he looked at you. Not with lust or greed like so many others, but something softer… deeper.

What no one knew—not even the emperor—was that late at night, when the palace was quiet and shadows ruled the halls, you would sneak to the dungeons. And he would be waiting.

Alastor, once a warrior of a fallen kingdom, sold into chains, would shed his mask of madness in those moments.

Tonight, beneath the moonlight that seeped through the dungeon bars, he cupped your face gently, his rough hands trembling. “You shouldn’t be here,” he whispered, voice low. “If they catch us—”

“I don’t care,” you interrupted, pressing your forehead to his. “You fight like your life means nothing, but I see you. I feel you.”

He let out a soft laugh. “You’re the Emperor’s daughter. I’m a beast kept in chains for entertainment.”

“To me, you’re more free than anyone in this palace.”

A beat passed before he pulled you close, lips brushing yours in a kiss that tasted like defiance and longing. For a moment, the war and the blood and the barriers vanished.

But love in Rome was never without danger. And the more often your eyes lingered during the games, the more the Emperor began to notice…