Their objective was to turn me into a Roman and then use me to expand their territory in Germania.”
My jaw dropped. “Wait, are you the actual Arminius?”
He laughed at the look on my face.
I didn’t know why I’d never put two and two together, but I was utterly shocked that I was sitting in front of a man who was a significant figure in history books.
My mind frantically rewound back to my college days. I’d watched a History Channel special on Arminius – the man responsible for Rome’s greatest defeat during the height of their empire. He’d moved up through the ranks of the Roman military, only to switch sides once he was stationed back in his home country. From what I remembered, his own people had turned on him after they’d repelled the Roman forces.
“Um,” I said awkwardly as I stared down at the roman coin that was marked with a date several decades after Arminius’ time. “This is from much later, after everything that happened with, uh…”
My voice trailed off. How do you politely ask someone about the time they were supposedly murdered by the people they loved? The history books weren’t entirely correct, as Arminius was sitting in front of me, and not in an unmarked grave somewhere in the ancient German forests. Still, the betrayal had to sting, even after all these years.
“Like you, I was from one world,” Arminius said seriously. “But I was raised in another. I always had one foot in each world, never belonging in either. I was too much of a barbarian to ever be a real Roman citizen, but too much of a Roman to be accepted by my own tribe.”
I nodded, getting a glimmer of understanding as to why we were talking about this. He was going to draw a parallel between his life and mine. I was too fae to be accepted by the shifter community, but too much shifter for the fae to ever consider me to be one of them.
“But you chose to go back to Rome?” I asked curiously. “After leading people against Roman forces?”
“I might have German blood,” he said solemnly. “But in my heart and mind, I was a Roman. It took an assassination attempt from my fellow tribesman to make me realize that. I was successful against Rome because I thought like them, I was one of them. The German tribes united with me only because they wanted Rome out of their lands. Once the Romans were gone, they had no use for me.”
“And I have fae blood,” I said quietly. “But I was raised here, with humans. And now I’m part of a pack of shifters who’ve embraced me as one of their own.”
Arminius nodded and waited for me to complete my thought.
“The fae would never really accept me as one of them,” I said confidently. “But I don’t want them to. This is my home, my world. This is where I belong.”
“They won’t hesitate to use you for their purposes,” Arminius pointed out. “Drake marked you for a reason, and I guarantee you that it wasn’t for your benefit.”
I sighed and rubbed my hands against my thighs.
“I know,” I admitted. “My own father isn’t any better than Drake in that respect. But do you think we can twist things around on them? Use my connection with Drake to our benefit?”
Arminius flashed a white smile at me.
“We can certainly try,” he said with a chuckle. “But you’ll need to learn how to be just as devious as they are. You wear your thoughts on your face and your heart on your sleeve.”
I bristled. “I just need to be selective about what truths I tell them. I don’t need to lie any more than they do.”
Arminius laughed out loud. “Truth can be deceptive when wielded in the right way.”
“My goal is to keep Anna safe through all of this,” Austin interrupted. “We won’t risk her life for games.”
“I had to disappear for a while after my supposed death,” Arminius said as he watched for my reaction. “Rome would have executed me as a traitor if they knew I lived.”
“You waited until you were forgotten?” I asked as I made an effort to keep my face neutral. I wasn’t sure why this conversation was so important to Arminius, but I was wary of his motivation.
Arminius smiled. “I waited until my face was forgotten. My legend lived on, maybe even because I supposedly died a gruesome death at the hands of my own people.