Historical Roman Fiction Novels & Stories

“How the hell can you drink so much and not be drunk?!” “Because I’m not a fucking lightweight.” I roll my eyes at Christian, my best friend and would-be Beta, when my father finally hands me my own pack. Christian sways in his seat with a smirk on his face. The man never could keep up with me when it came to alcohol. He sometimes forgets that I’m a Romerian Alpha and also a Royal. Alcohol doesn’t affect us the way it does other wolves.

There is a reason that Lycan aren’t virgins. When they touch a human or each other, it causes an aphrodisiac-like outcome. I understand the concept, trust me. Every time Roman even brushes against me I am straining at the cuffs to attack him. No more cards, no more games, just waiting—and hoping that someone doesn’t stake me before this shit is over with. To make matters worse, Roman has taken it upon himself to educate me in our glorious an illustrious history. It is beyond boring, and I am pretty sure the only reason he is going over this crap to keep me from licking him every chance I get.

Roman says with a troubled expression on his face. I open my mouth and close it again, floored by his honesty. He had never been willing to tell me anything about the past, so I wonder what spurred him on this time. “Why are you telling me this now? Are you expecting me to forgive you before finding out what you did to me?” I ask him, feeling my anger rise with each syllable. “I expect nothing from you, Princess. I'm giving you a reason not to want to marry me. It makes convincing you all the more fun.” Roman says with a little sardonic twitch of his lips that could pass for a smile to someone who didn't know him very well.

She ran towards the two. "Roman! Why are you treating her like that?!" Romana furiously asked. She took Lalaine away from the man. Roman immediately let her go. "Get rid of that dirty whore before I kill her!" Roman shouted furiously. Lalaine didn't stop sobbing and she also didn't stop apologizing. "Why are you saying that?! She's your fiancee!" Romana said. "Well, not anymore! I have no intention of tying myself to a woman who is dirtier than rags! Every time I think about that woman and your husband having a relationship, my stomach turns!"

I shoved my notebook in my bag to avoid answering. "You don’t have to tell me anything," Lana said gently. "But be careful. Roman… he’s not like other guys. Before you showed up, he was kind of infamous. He’d hook up, ghost the girl, and move on. Maddi was the only one he kept going back to." I stiffened. "But he never dated her," Lana added quickly. "Not really. She wanted him to. Everyone did. But he never looked at anyone the way he looks at you."

Ivan had played nice, but she still avoided him when she could, which proved fairly easy since Julian was practically allergic to him. She'd stayed out of Roman's way too, consistently finding it necessary to remind herself that he was too dangerous to be fooling around with. They'd made some small talk at dinner one evening, which she'd found oddly enjoyable. He was well-educated, and they'd talked about some debates about Greco-Roman history. As an intellectual sparring partner, she'd found him quite the intriguing adversary. His wit was as sharp as to be expected, his arguments logical and clear, something she appreciated.

“Do you know the connection, Miss Butler?” I nodded my head. I loved history, choosing fact or fiction most trips I took to the county library the last three years. I had read all about the Roman Empire, it’s leaders and their dynamics. “Okay, then. You all discuss it. You have five minutes left.” I locked eyes with Owen as he gave me that delicious dimpled smirk but I chose to ignore it, instead turning to Bethany as I explained the whole love triangle, first between Fulvia and Cleopatra and then between Cleopatra and Octavia and how Mark Antony and Octavian both used the three women to their advantage.

“And given your… history, Miss Hart, I would be remiss not to request this assurance.” “My history?” I echoed sharply. “And what exactly do you think you know about me?” “Enough,” he said. “Enough to conclude that your claims are… questionable.” The word sliced deep. “You have a rather colourful past,” he continued. “Details I will not go into tonight, for the sake of decorum. But I believe you know precisely what I’m referring to. Roman is blinded by his… lust for you—” “Love,” I cut in fiercely. “His love for me. Roman loves me. And he knows I would never betray him.”

Francesca knew this was a no-brainer, of the two men, one was a fifty-one-year-old widow and the other a twenty-eight-year-old bachelor. "Ah, Asher Evans it is then, I'll set a date for your first meet with him," Francesca declared when Joan picks the twenty-eight-year-old bachelor. Although Francesca thought it was quite unfortunate that her niece should go on a date with the wicked rascal, she had to concede, desperate times, desperate measures. "I don't understand, why would I go on a date with him?" "I told you it's an old tradition, it's an alliance between families, a marriage of opportunity, but who knows, it might spark some romance you desperately need in your life," Francesca state

They had been married for five years now and although they kept trying, Franca hadn’t been able to conceive. Franca and Pete were devastated. Their hope and dream was to start a family that would walk in the way of the Lord just like they had, so why wasn’t he blessing them with one? They fasted and prayed and kept on hoping for a Miracle. Ten years rolled by. Although Franca and Pete had gone in for tests, the doctors confirmed that there was nothing wrong with them. They concluded that it was a trial that they had to endure just like Sarah and Abraham in the Bible.