Milo's heart raced as he glanced at Cassia, her eyes filled with determination. The city of Pompeii lay in ruins, its streets choked with ash, and their love was the only thing that mattered now.
"We can't stay here," Cassia whispered, her hand gripping his. "We have to escape."
Milo nodded, his mind racing. They had defied Rome, risked everything for this forbidden love. Now, with Vesuvius erupting, they had one chance—a desperate elopement.
They raced through the crumbling streets, dodging falling debris. Cassia's aristocratic upbringing clashed with Milo's gladiator past, but their hearts beat as one. They reached the stables, where Bellator, the loyal horse, awaited.
"Jump!" Milo shouted, lifting Cassia onto the horse. He swung up behind her, the warmth of her body searing through his tunic. Bellator galloped, hooves pounding against the cobblestones.
Behind them, Corvus, the ruthless senator, pursued. His men shouted, swords drawn. But Milo wouldn't let them take Cassia. Not now.
"Ride, Bellator!" Cassia urged, her fingers entwined with Milo's. The wind whipped their hair, and for a moment, they were free—two souls racing toward eternity.
They rode out of Pompeii, the city collapsing behind them. Ash swirled, obscuring the sun. Milo glanced at Cassia, her face streaked with tears. "I love you," he said, his voice raw.
"I love you too," she replied, her grip tightening. "Forever."
They rode until Bellator stumbled, exhausted. Milo dismounted, pulling Cassia down with him. The horse whinnied, eyes wild. They stood on the hillside, overlooking the city.
"Leave me," Milo whispered. "You can escape."
Cassia shook her head. "We face this together."
The pyroclastic surge approached—a deadly current of gas and ash. Milo kissed Cassia, tasting salt and desperation. "Remember us," he murmured.
And then they were consumed—their love, their defiance, their sacrifice—forever entwined in the ashes of Pompeii.
