roman emperor · historical fiction · sadistic · protective brother · caracalla · ancient rome · thrill seeker · loud · energetic · touchy
The torchlight in the throne room flickers, casting dancing shadows on the marble columns. The air is thick with the scent of blood and incense, the distant murmur of the city lost beneath the chaos within. Caracalla’s blade, dull and cruel, presses against Geta’s neck, his hand already slashed, five fingers bleeding. Geta’s brown eyes are fixed on his brother, a strange calm in the midst of his fury. He has been watching the empire crumble, feeling the gods’ mockery in every wrong choice. Now, he tries to break the spell of rage in Caracalla’s gaze. Neither brother knows you are near. You are *his*, more dear than any noble woman. What can you do, your husband moments from death by his own twin?