She was swathed in darkness once again, yet she wasn’t holding Jack. No slight warmth. No soft breathing when he finally drifted toward dream. Not that his dreams were without trauma. Even there he was not free. His nightmares broke her heart.

She’d rather have a broken heart than empty arms.

Her back ached. Regret and uncertainty were parasites digging into her mind. She was to become a Cage warrior. The decision whether to release Jack from that misery was no longer hers. Instead, she would free him and rebuild their lives. She had the power to make it so.

You blew the roof off Dr. Aster’s lab.

She no longer needed to wonder why she’d been plucked from one hell and deposited into another. New questions sprouted.

How?

Since when?

And why this dread in the pit of my stomach?

Every part of her body hurt. Her scalp burned where Leto had dragged her across the floor. Her arm creaked where he’d yanked it behind her back. Her gut cramped where he’d kicked her. The energy beneath her skin stung with pain close to pleasure. At least this pain had purpose.

Audrey curled into herself like an infant in a bassinet. Only by remembering long-ago Tigony techniques for calming her restless mind did she finally feel the warm blanket of sleep.

For a moment.

A key rattling at the end of the sloping corridor roused her with a start. Noise meant danger. She was on her feet in an instant. Cold made her clumsy. She wobbled, focusing beyond shadow after charcoal shadow. Yet her muscles responded with surprising grace. The aches had eased. She buzzed with the need to move.

“Awake so early?”

She flinched away from the sudden spark of the two bare lightbulbs. But even that disoriented sense returned more quickly. Had releasing her powers done something? Maybe it was nothing more than shedding the sluggish hopelessness of Dr. Aster’s lab, but she doubted it. She wished she could remember or understand. Then she might feel more satisfaction, and banish the queasy, lingering dread. She didn’t have time for unknowns.

Leto stood half a dozen feet away. He wore similar armor, but this set was free of damage. His right shoulder was covered by alternating layers of metal and leathers of different thickness and texture. The other shoulder was bare. Striated muscles flexed and shifted with every small movement. Biceps, forearms—even his hands. He was the most impressive man she’d ever seen. Something out of an impossible fantasy. Darkness and intensity. Vigor and power. A pulse of purpose surged in constant waves from his magnificent body, potent enough to feel against her skin.

A man in control.

A man who needed her.

That she could be of any importance to such an intimidating mountain of skilled, deadly brawn almost made her laugh. No way. For Dragon’s sake, she’d clipped coupons and taken Jack to Mommy and Me swimming lessons. She was no warrior.

Her amped-up body and sharpened senses said otherwise.

She had no chance at survival, let alone rescuing Jack, if she didn’t transform into something like Leto of Clan Garnis.

She nodded toward the small crisscross of surgical tape, where she’d pierced his cheek. “The bandage doesn’t suit you.”

“Then don’t strike me again.”

“I’m going to land as many blows as possible.”

The heavy bag he dropped at his feet sounded overly loud in the cell. Two shields followed with twin clangs of steel against rock. “You’re in a mouthy mood. No breakfast.”

As if spurred by the mere mention of food, Audrey’s stomach chose that moment to rumble. The guards at the end of the tunnel could’ve heard it. Leto’s smirk twitched.

He walked through her small cell like a god. There was no other way to describe his stride, his straight back, his proud shoulders. He moved with refinement despite the weight of each step. After kneeling before the large leather bag, he pried it open. Metal. Gleaming metal of all shapes and sizes. Each piece shone with deadly purpose.

Dragon-dark eyes lifted to meet hers. “First, we learn materials.”

One by one, he introduced her to the weapons available to them in the Cages. A machete and a mace. A wicked dagger and a sickle. Even something that resembled a metal skull.

“I don’t understand,” she said once he finished. “You haven’t mentioned anything more about what may be a mystery Dragon-born gift. And now you’re teaching a course on Medieval Weaponry 101.”

“Your gift needs to be developed. But even a warrior in complete control cannot rely on it. During a match, an arbiter controls the Cages. With the flip of a switch, our collars activate again. Survival becomes a matter of blood combat. That means working with steel and martial arts—even if your pyrotechnic display was impressive.”

“And completely gone from my memory.”

“Another problem, yes.” He leaned closer. Breath against skin. Lips near enough to brush her ear. They never did. “My job is to make sure you can survive those random minutes when our powers won’t mean a Dragon-damned thing.”

Audrey shivered. Her body was already edgy with an energy she couldn’t control. To feel Leto’s warm skin so nearby added another layer of sensation. Want. She tried to push it away. She called it a betrayal against the husband she still missed with every heartbeat. Yet the craving for physical contact was undeniable—contact that didn’t mean pain and fear. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the heady power of his scent.

Feeling out-of-body, she reached to pick up the metal skull.

Leto snatched her wrist and glared. “Do you take me for a fool?”

“How am I supposed to learn to use them if I can’t touch them? Tell me, at least.”

“It’s a nighnor. Are you really so ignorant of our ways?”

“I’m sure circumstances have taught us very different things. Can you read?”

“Yes.” His mouth pinched tightly. “My mother taught me. She taught me many things.”

“And when was the last time you were aboveground? The last time you saw the sun?”

His subtle glare intensified, but his tension was more evident in his shoulders. “How is that important?”

“I’m just curious what you barbarians learn down here, other than ripping out spines. And besides, a nighnor is the ceremonial weapon of the Sath.” She felt pleased at having taken him by surprise. Again. “You forget. I was raised among the Tigony. That meant years of learning our lore and rituals. I don’t know how to use it, but I know what it is.”

He hefted the nighnor. “Your turn to tell me. Prove it.”

“Each one is ancient, from the time when the Sath ruled as Pharaohs. They’re said to be the heads of men who denied the superiority of the first Dragon Kings. The fearful made the Sath into gods rather than suffer the same fate.” Her stomach knotted for reasons other than hunger. “Coated in iron. Lacquered and polished over the years to add luster. But beneath the metal is bone. Some ancient peasant’s skull.”

Leto shrugged. “So they say.”

“Let me touch it. Sir.”

“That’s not a question.”

“Forget the mind games, remember? You need me to learn.” Their gazes met. “More than that, I think you want me to.”

The set of his jaw became as ruthless as the skull he held. Metal over bone. “Do not assume anything about me, neophyte.”

“How can I not? We know the stakes. Give me the damn thing and teach me how to use it.”

“No lunch either.”

Audrey huffed a breath. “You are dense. Even Dr. Aster fed me. ‘Keep up your strength, Mrs. MacLaren,’ he always said. ‘More work to do tomorrow.’ ” She stood and glared down at the strongest man she’d ever seen. “You can’t harm me, sir. Not like he did. So get on with what we know needs to be done.”

His slow rise from a kneeling stance seemed to go on forever. Deliberate. Controlled. Just taller and taller until he was a ruthless warrior once again. “Oh, but I can do you harm. And win. I’ll do that at any cost, even if it means knocking you unconscious during our match.”