It was enticing to the senses to see how gracefully he moved down there in the Coliseum; you may have been the daughter of the Emperor, but he was a God among men on the ground made of sand and blood below you. Eyes wide and focused, you watched the gladiator named Derek slice and stab at the Roman champions pitted against him.

"He's more animal than man, no wonder they call him Wolf."

"I find him alluring, brother."

Your older brother, Scott, smirked down at you from his seat, "You're just saying that because you find him attractive, what was it you said to your servant last night? 'He's tempting, a forbidden fruit that I want to take a bite out of.'" Your face flushed as you stared daggers at him, Scott only laughed before he leaned forward a playful smile on his lips, "Well you know what they say sister, forbidden fruit always tastes the sweetest."

The crowd roared with cheers and applause bringing your head to look at Derek and the few gladiators that remained standing after the slaughter they were sent into, now was the time that your father decided whether or not they would live to fight another day or die like the others. You waited with baited breath as your eyes followed your father's slow stride down the three stairs and to the balcony, holding his closed fist out in front of the crowd pausing for dramatic effect he listened to their yells and shouts of "live, live, live, live…"

"Careful sister, mother is watching. Release. The. Chair."

You flexed your fingers, unclenching them from around the arm of the chair and folding them over your lap. Flickering your eyes from your father to Derek – who had been steadily staring at you since your father stood up – then back to your father, you kept them there as you leaned over to Scott, "He wouldn't kill him, not with the whole crowd wanting him to live, right?"

"Your apple will be just fine little sister."

You discreetly moved your hand in order to pinch at the skin of your brother's forearm. Scott hissed out an "ow," but kept his posture relaxed when he spoke again, "If you keep acting on instinct first you're going to give yourself away to father. I'm not the only one who's noticed your disappearances to the gladiators' chambers with food and wine and how you always seem to come back with blood on your dresses. How long do you think mother will let this go on before her fears for your reputation get the best of her and she stops you or tells father or worse, marries you off to he first man who offers? It doesn't matter to anyone that Derek is infatuated with you, that is normal, but for you to return those feelings is dangerous for not only you but for Derek's life as well. You're feelings could end up getting him killed. Father may let him live today only to end him tomorrow because you couldn't get a hold of yourself. I say this because I love you and want you to be as happy as I am," Scott reached over and clasped your hand in his and gave a gentle squeeze, "either get rid of those feeling you have for Derek or think of something to do about them. Whatever you choose I'll support you, but figure it out soon because Derek might not survive."

Scott was right and you knew it, you had to figure something out before it was too late. Pulling your lip between your teeth, you focused every prayer to the Gods above to spare Derek's life, giving you some more time, and watched as your father's thumb pointed out, wavering between up and down, life and death, and your father chose life. Your shoulders sagged in relief and a smile tugged across your face, locking eyes with Derek before he was shoved off back to his cell.

It was at the celebration held by your father where you saw Derek again, standing up on a platform for the lonely and desperate women of the higher class to gawk at and to pay for their other services outside the arena. The idea that any of these men had to deal with this, after everything they did in the arena earlier that day, made your stomach churn with disgust.

"Drink any more wine Domina, and you'll be swimming back to your room."

Your servant, and one of your closest friends honestly, was attempting to hide her smile but failing, "It's been a long day and being drunk will help me in dealing with these 'eligible men' my father has me lined up for."

"And none of them are the one that sets your heart a flutter."

Your servant stepped back as your friends Lydia and Allison came up, "Lydia, quiet if my father hears of this, he'll kill him."

"He wouldn't murder his champion, whip and punish probably, but not murder…at least not without an audience." Allison looked to your horror stricken face, "Sorry."

"No you're right, unfortunately."

"You must admit though, he is easy on the eyes. You chose a good one to warm your loins."

Your entire body blushed as the three of you giggled like gossiping servants; nursing your wine your eyes found his from across the room and your heart stuttered. You averted them quickly when you saw a woman too old to be looking at such a young man run her fingers down his bare chest, "Apparently I'm not the only one."

The girls looked to see the eager old woman handing over a sack of gold coins – easily the highest bidder – and preparing to sink her teeth into Derek as if he were a steak. Allison's hand landed on your shoulder in a comforting manner as Lydia's lips pursed in consideration before handing her goblet of wine to Allison, "Hold this. Genevieve come with me."

Your eyes widened and you frantically tried to grab her arm as she walked towards the gladiators on display, "Lydia! Get back here!"

Your calls were useless, as you watched her take out her own sack of gold to give to the man, her's vastly larger than anyone else would dream of aside from your own. She whispered in the man's ear something you couldn't decipher and she walked away down to where the rooms were for the woman who bid the most.

You swallowed looking to Allison with frantic eyes, "She wouldn't."

"Lydia is like the wind, unpredictable but always there to help."

"Except for when it's a storm and destroys everything in its wake."

Allison smiled at you and linked her arm through your, "Let's enjoy the festivities."

You were laughing with Allison, Isaac her betrothed, your brother Scott and his wife Kira, and Malia and her soon-to-be-husband Stiles, when Genevieve came up next to you and bowed, "Your Grace, my Domina wishes to speak with you."

Your brows furrowed but you nodded, saying your goodbye's to your friends you followed behind Genevieve as she led you to Lydia, stopping outside a door she bowed to you again, "She's in there Your Grace, and she said to tell you to go in alone." Her eyes looked to your servant before looking back down at the floor.

"Thank you Genevieve, Cora please stay out here with her."

"Yes Domina"

Turning the knob you walked in, "Why you always say alone I'll never understand, you know Cora and Genevieve wou-" You stopped short when your eyes landed on the other person in the room that was very clearly not Lydia. Your breath faltered, "You."

Derek quickly got down on one knee and bowed his head, "Your Grace."

"Get up Derek, please. You must be tired, sit and eat. I'll get you some wine, you deserve it after that win in the arena today." You moved quickly, picking up your gown to move faster to where the pitcher of wine and two glasses await on a silver platter. "I must say, you're very good down there. It's – "

"Surprising?"

"Terrifying. Surprising would be a word to use, yes, but eventually someone would be better than the Emperor's men, it was only a matter of time." You smiled at him, walking over to join him with the filled glasses.

"Why?"

Tilting you head you finished your sip of wine, "I'm sorry I don't understand?"

Derek gestured to the room, "Why am I in here?" Then he looked at you, eyes boring into your own making your insides feel warm and fuzzy, "More importantly, why are you in here with me?"

"Lydia, she sent for me and – "

"Mistress Lydia was the one who, paid for my services," his voice took a dark edge to it as he spoke those last words and you flinched, "So why are you here and not her?"

"She did this for me."

"I don't think your father would be too happy to hear that." Derek leaned back, resting on the arm of the couch and drank some of his wine.

"My father would not be happy to hear that I am in here with you instead of out there meeting my suitors, much less find out that I want to be with you."

"You have suitors?" He looked at you from under his lashes, muscles tensed as the word left your mouth.

"I am of age now, so yes there are suitors."

"Any of them stand a chance at handling you as a wife?"

"And what does that mean?"

"I've heard the stories." He took another sip of wine, looking at you from over the rim.

You raised an eyebrow and plucked a grape from the bushel that sat on the table, "There are stories?"

"Of course Your Grace, just as you have stories of us to keep you warm at night, there are ones of you for us. Admittedly your stories are much kinder than those of your father or the other men who own us." Derek got comfortable, extending his right arm to rest along the back of the couch, his hand coming so close to touching your shoulder you could feel the heat radiating from it.

"You will win your freedom Derek, of this I am sure. Those chains will no longer bind you."

Your eyes were wide and so full of compassion that Derek had to look away and tighten his hand around the cup, "What do you know of chains, Your Grace." His words were spiteful and crass but you understood he wasn't angry with you, just the circumstances.

"I have my own chains Derek, although they are invisible they are still there. I don't have the freedom to choose whom I am to wed; it most certainly won't be for love but for a political advantage. I cannot speak up to defend myself without fear of a slap across the face, I cannot use my own voice to state my opinion because I am simply a woman whose opinion means less than that of yours to a man. I have nicer clothes and a comfy bed to sleep in but these clothes are my chains and this palace is my prison. I know of chains Derek, do not think I don't."

You were standing at the end of your speech, back facing Derek you stared of into the night, hands curling against the marble of the balcony ledge. The cool breeze helped to dissipate some of the anger that had risen up inside of you.

"At least the stories are true."

Derek's chuckle did more to calm you than the breeze ever could, "And what of these stories, Derek?"

"The men who have been here longer than I like to tell them; speak of you in the highest manner, with your wild heart that could never be tamed by a mild-mannered man and you wouldn't take any mistreatment of his servants or slaves or gladiators sitting down and unfortunately for you he wouldn't take your disobedience lightly. You wouldn't let him lay a hand on you without some type of fight back, a regular man wouldn't suit you." He moved, agile and quiet like a cat, to stand behind you on the balcony, his arms caging you in and holding himself away from your body, careful not to touch you without your permission. "A noble man would try to change you, mold you into the prefect, docile, obedient woman. Make you into someone you are not."

Your body relaxed at the feel of his strong presence behind you and you moved into his chest, back just barely brushing against his naked chest, "And what man do you think would be good for me?"

"Someone who knows what he has when he has it, someone who would cherish you," he lifted one hand to sweep away your hair from your neck, his fingertips grazing at the soft skin there. "Adore you," his lips came to rest against your exposed shoulder ghosting over to the side of your neck. "Someone who would tell you everyday how breathtaking you are," his other arm wrapped around your waist tugging you against the length of his body. "And make sure he took the time each day to show you."

Your breath was ragged at best with one hand clutching at Derek's while the other was wrapped around his neck for your fingers to bury in his hair. Derek's eyes were closed as were yours and you whimpered at the intense feeling of his teeth scratching at you neck as he spoke, "A man who would protect you, treat you like the goddess you are and make sure you saw heaven at least once a day." Derek brought his hips forward to push yours against the balcony, sandwiching you between it and what the gods had graced him with.

Lips trembling with want to feel his against yours you began to move his hand down your body to where you needed him most and practically begged him, "Show me. Please Derek, show me."

You had made your decision.