Given to the Gladiator Read Online Olivia T. Turner

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Historical Fiction, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 20872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 104(@200wpm)___ 83(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
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I can’t marry this man. I won’t.

“You look wonderful,” my father says as he walks me down the dirt road toward the center of town where the vows will take place. “As beautiful as your mother on our wedding day.”

Lucky for her, she was marrying a decent, honorable man, and not some serial killer who practiced on his pretty young brides.

We hang back by the blacksmith’s shop as people rush to the festivities. I ignore their well wishes and stare at the loose chickens who are wandering around the shop, pecking at the ground, oblivious to the life-changing event that’s about to happen.

“Chin up!” my mother snaps as she comes over to join us. She’s holding her new dress up as she jumps over a puddle in the road. “And knock that sour puss off your face. This is supposed to be a celebration, although I doubt Manius will be celebrating when he finds out that he married a spoiled, unruly child.”

I bite my lip as she descends on me, yanking and pulling straps—not caring at all that my dress is already cutting into my skin.

“The groom!” she says in a panic when Marius and his men walk down the road in the distance.

I clutch my stomach and nearly throw up when I see him in his slimy white toga. My lunch would have come out if it wasn’t being trapped in by my insanely tight corset.

“He can’t see you before the wedding!” mother yelps as she pushes me against the wooden boards of the blacksmith’s shop.

The image of him sends me into panic mode. My pulse starts racing. My whole body starts shaking as I suddenly can’t breathe.

I can’t do this. I can’t do this.

“My veil!”

My mother’s jaw clenches. “Oh, for the faith of Juno,” she curses. “Let’s go! Quickly!”

She grabs my arm in a piercing grip and pulls me back to our house at the edge of town.

“The whole town will be waiting,” she mutters as she pulls me into the house. “Ungrateful child. I’ll be happy to be rid of you. Nothing but trouble.”

“It’s in my room,” I say as I quickly run to the back of our tiny house. “I’ll put it on. I’ll just be a second.”

With my heart pounding, I lock the door, rush over to the window and unlatch it. I take one last look around my room because I won’t be seeing it again.

“Bye life,” I whisper before hiking my dress up, climbing out of my window, and running over to where Pegasus is wandering lazily around his paddock. The end of my dress and my new white shoes sink into the mud, but I don’t care. It feels good to ruin it all. To sully the veil of innocence that Marius wants to steal from me. It’s mine alone to give and I do not choose him.

“Pegasus,” I whisper as I drag the heavy fence open. “Come here, boy!”

He walks over lazily, glancing down at my hands to see if I have any treats for him.

“It’s time that you earn your name, old friend,” I whisper into his ear before I hoist myself onto his back. “Fly, Pegasus. Fly.”

I squeeze my thighs and tell him to run, and he does. Fast. His heavy hooves thunder into the ground under the force of his powerful white legs, taking me away from here. Taking me to freedom.

“Elovissa!” my mother screams as she hangs out of my bedroom window, looking furious. “Get back here you ungrateful brat!”

I turn around and stick my tongue out at her as my faithful horse carries me away.

I’m free for three glorious days.

On the fourth, however, someone catches up to me.

It’s not my parents. It’s not Marius.

It’s someone worse.

A slaver.

I don’t even hear him creep up to me while I’m cooking a rabbit over a fire. I don’t even feel the club hitting the back of my head, turning everything black.

I’m only aware of my capture when I wake up with a splitting headache on top of Pegasus. Something more constricting then my corset is wrapped around my neck—a thick iron collar. A heavy metal chain tries to drag my head down. It’s tied to my wrists that are also locked together with some kind of iron contraption.

“No,” I whisper when I look all around me and see nothing but pain and agony on the slaves’ faces as they drag their feet, stumbling in the hot sun.

“Good, you’re awake!” a slaver with dark hair and a jagged scar along his forehead says with a vile grin. He yanks me off my horse and I fall into the dirt with a thud. His sandal comes next, slamming into my ribs as he laughs. “Get up, girl. You belong to us now.”

I gulp as I look up at the whip in his hand. His thumb is stroking the leather, itching to use it.


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