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- Herausgeber: Velvet Ink Press
- Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
- Sprache: Englisch
Chained in the sands of Rome’s cruelest arena, Cassian fights not for glory—but for survival. A warrior broken by betrayal and hardened by blood, he carries a name the empire wants to forget and a spirit they failed to break. Each battle leaves him further from the man he once was—until her.
Livia Varius is the obedient daughter of a powerful senator, groomed to serve as a symbol of Roman purity and political gain. But behind silk veils and formal smiles burns a mind unwilling to be owned. And when her eyes meet the gladiator’s across the arena, everything begins to unravel.
What starts as forbidden fascination soon ignites into a bond neither of them can control. But their desire is a dangerous rebellion in a city that punishes defiance with death. As enemies close in and the cost of their connection becomes unbearable, Livia and Cassian must decide: is love worth the chains it will break—or the blood it will spill?
In a world ruled by empire and cruelty, can two souls from opposite worlds write their own fate?
Or will their passion burn brighter than the empire that seeks to silence it?
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025
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The Gladiator’s Claim
A Tale of Blood and Seduction
SINS OF THE CENTURIES
Isolde Ravencourt
Copyright © 2025 by Isolde Ravencourt
All rights reserved. This book and all individual stories contained within are protected under international copyright law. No part of this collection may be copied, reproduced, distributed, or shared in any form without the express written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations used in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, settings, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or real events is entirely coincidental.
AI Tools Acknowledgement:
The cover image and/or design elements were created using generative AI technology under appropriate commercial-use licensing.
Thank you for reading this special collection. I hope you enjoy every story inside.
Table of Contents
The Gladiator’s Claim
Description
Chapter 1: Chains and Cheers
Chapter 2: Silk and Shadows
Chapter 3: Gilded Cage, Iron Bars
Chapter 4: The Price of a Touch
Chapter 5: Unleashed Tension
Chapter 6: Sand and Seduction
Chapter 7: The Fall of Restraint
Chapter 8: Blood in the Water
Chapter 9: A Lover’s Rebellion
Chapter 10: The Arena of Fate
Chapter 11: The Choice
Epilogue: Two Years Later
The Gladiator’s Claim
Description
Chained in the sands of Rome’s cruelest arena, Cassian fights not for glory—but for survival. A warrior broken by betrayal and hardened by blood, he carries a name the empire wants to forget and a spirit they failed to break. Each battle leaves him further from the man he once was—until her.
Livia Varius is the obedient daughter of a powerful senator, groomed to serve as a symbol of Roman purity and political gain. But behind silk veils and formal smiles burns a mind unwilling to be owned. And when her eyes meet the gladiator’s across the arena, everything begins to unravel.
What starts as forbidden fascination soon ignites into a bond neither of them can control. But their desire is a dangerous rebellion in a city that punishes defiance with death. As enemies close in and the cost of their connection becomes unbearable, Livia and Cassian must decide: is love worth the chains it will break—or the blood it will spill?
In a world ruled by empire and cruelty, can two souls from opposite worlds write their own fate?
Or will their passion burn brighter than the empire that seeks to silence it?
Chapter 1: Chains and Cheers
Cassian
The scent of rusted iron and sweat never leaves this place. It sinks into your skin, stains your breath, etches itself into the marrow of your bones until even your dreams taste like blood. They say the gods favor the arena—but if that’s true, they must be cruel ones.
I roll my shoulders, the iron cuffs biting into raw skin. The chains clink when I shift—a sound I’ve grown too used to.
The gate creaks open.
Sunlight floods in like punishment, blinding after hours in the underground cells. The roar of the crowd rushes forward, crashing over me like a wave. Their cheers aren’t for me—not yet. They cheer for the violence to come, for the spectacle of flesh torn and bones shattered. For a man to die, and another to rise, if only briefly, like some cursed phoenix of Rome.
My name echoes somewhere—Cassian. But it’s not a name anymore. It’s a brand. A whisper the bookkeepers bark when tallying odds. A name slaves shout when betting on who might crawl out alive.
My real name died in Thracia.
The sand beneath my sandals is warm. I step into the light, and the weight of a hundred eyes presses down. Men jeer. Women wave handkerchiefs. Children climb their fathers’ laps to see better.
And above them all, in the shaded box reserved for the elite, I see her.
She wears ivory.
Not white—too deliberate to be innocent. Her hair is pinned in twists that catch the light like amber, and even from here, I can see the sharp line of her jaw, the tilt of her chin. She doesn’t wave. Doesn’t smile.
But she watches.
Watches me.
Something slow curls in my gut. Hunger, but not for food. Not even for blood.
She does not belong here.
And yet her gaze doesn’t flinch when the sword is thrust into my hand. She meets it. Holds it. Almost like—
Almost like she came to see me.
***
The fight is short. Brutal. I wish I could say I remember it, but the blood sings louder than thought. The blade finds muscle and bone on instinct. The other man—Gaulus—is older, slower. His right leg drags from an old wound.
Still, he’s good. He lands a cut across my ribs that burns hot and wet. The crowd roars for him.
But I end it.
Kneeling beside his body, I press two fingers to his neck. His eyes flutter. Not dead.
Good.
I don’t kill for free.
The crowd doesn’t care. They cheer anyway when I raise the blade. They shout my name—not because they care who I am, but because I gave them what they paid for.
Blood.
When I look back toward the elite box, she’s gone.
***
Back in the pens, I wash with cold water and rough cloth. Blood flakes off in sticky ribbons, revealing skin already purpled and bruising.
“You’re lucky today.” Dagan tosses me a strip of half-eaten bread as he leans against the post beside my cell. He’s young, maybe fifteen—once a stable boy, now errand slave.
“They like you.”
“They like blood.”
He shrugs. “Still. You might get a sponsor soon. Maybe even your own armor. Heard the senator was watching.”
I pause mid-chew.
“What senator?”
“The one with the daughter. What’s her name... Livia?”
The name slides down my spine like ice.
Livia.
So that’s her name.
I finish the bread in silence. Later, when the torches are doused and the others begin to sleep, I lie awake on the straw mat and trace the memory of her gaze in the dark.
Eyes like polished stone. Not cold—no, worse. Curious.
As if I were a puzzle she wanted to solve.
Or a flame she was willing to touch.
