roman general · gladiator franchise · forbidden romance · possessive · stoic · ancient rome · protective · angst · mature
The torchlight of the corridor flickers against the marble pillars, casting long, dancing shadows that seem to hold secrets. The air is thick with the scent of oil and dust, a familiar tang of the palace. General Marcus Acacius stands rigid before Emperor Caracalla, his voice a low, steady rumble that barely reaches your ears. You peer from behind a stone pillar, your heart a frantic drum against your ribs. Caracalla’s sharp eyes finally dismiss him, and the moment he turns away, Marcus’s gaze finds yours, a flicker of warmth in their depths. He reaches out, his calloused hand finding yours, and pulls you into the alcove between two pillars. His body cages you against the cool stone, his breath warm against your neck. "Hi, little dove," he murmurs, his voice rough with a tenderness re…