The Gladiator. Carla Capshaw

Shiny, inebriated eyes leered at her from the shadows. How many men were there? Six? Seven?

      Dear God, please help me!

      “I want her first,” a deep voice slurred somewhere to her left.

      “You’ll have to wait your turn,” another said, the words thick and muddled. Jeering laughter combined with lewd suggestions echoed through the street.

      The pack grew bolder. Groping hands snatched at her clothes, pinched her, yanked her braid. The cloth of her tunic ripped, exposing her shoulder to the damp night air.

      She squeezed her eyes shut. Unable to move or defend herself, she begged God for mercy.

      The giant tightened his hand on her mouth. The pressure against her teeth cut her lip. She tasted blood.

      He reached forward with the knife, the metal flashing in the moonlight between her face and the other wolves.

      “All of you stand back,” the giant ordered. “The woman promised I could have her first. You’ll have to wait ’til I’ve had my taste.”

      What woman?

      A flurry of drunken curses and outraged complaints littered the night, but the long knife aided the pack’s decision to slink backward.

      “Such beautiful skin,” the giant slurred near her ear. His sour breath churned her stomach. She gagged until she thought she might retch. He moved his hand from her mouth and buried his wet lips against the pulse racing in her throat.

      She screamed. Her heel stomped his foot. He loosed his hold and the blade clanked on the stone street. Wild with fear, she jerked free from the drunk and ran.

      Threats from her pursuing attackers spurred her onward. Was someone calling her name? Without slacking her pace, she turned a corner, then another and another until she was lost. Too scared to stop running, she pressed on, her lungs burning, her heart pounding.

      Rapid footsteps gained ground behind her. The glow of a torch grew larger, lighting the narrow alleyway.

      “Pelonia!”

      Caros? She faltered, tripped on an uneven stone, felt herself falling.

      A strong arm swooped around her middle, hauling her up just as her palms brushed the road. In a seamless movement, Caros turned her around, then pulled her against him. “Are you all right?”