Nynn dragged her hand along the back of her neck, slick with sweat. “Now we train? I was just about to sleep.”

“I can leave you here. But I thought you might appreciate an extra ration.” He held up a wrapped tray.

After banking her obvious surprise, Nynn stood a little straighter. “What’s on the agenda tonight?”

She no longer called him sir. A trivial thing when she was obeying. He wasn’t sure what to make of her mood that evening. Or his. In all other respects, she should have been the perfect neophyte: a quick study, skilled, and with a powerful motivation to success.

Should have been.

Just like he should have been able to keep his gaze off her breasts as a guard wrapped her wrists in metal. She lifted her chin—that distinctive gesture she must’ve learned among the humans. It accentuated the elegance of her neck, the pout of her lower lip, and the width of her soft, round cheekbones. She glared at him with pale, narrowed eyes, as if she were ten feet tall. That lithe elegance didn’t stop with her neck, but trailed down a body that was tempting. So tempting. She was strength and curves. Power and femininity. Nynn of Tigony would be as much a challenge to bed as she was to battle in the Cages. Leto wanted his hands around her bare waist, down her sinuous back, between her thighs. He would find her wet. He would taste her. And she would taste him, making use of her stubborn mouth.

The guard dragged her into the open and roughly guided her toward the arena. Leto found it more disconcerting than arousing to see her bound and hauled like an animal. He liked her best when she blazed with confidence, because the last thing he wanted was to pity her. Or to sympathize with her pain.

His own pains burned hot enough.

The guards left them alone in the Cage facility and locked the doors. One of them handed Leto the keys to Nynn’s manacles.

They were alone.

“Now what?” she asked.

With calm and patience, his sensual thoughts banished, Leto set the plate on a bench against the wall. He walked closer. He unbound her wrists. And he grabbed the pale gold hair at the top of her head, where the strands were longest. “Tonight, Nynn of Tigony, we see how you react to complete unknowns.”

Leto probably should’ve kept her bound.

She pulled against his hold, wincing in the process. “What is this, some version of underground barbarians’ seduction?”

“Seduction?”

“You drag me out of my room in the middle of the night. Alone.” She clawed at his hands when he wouldn’t release his hold on her hair. “Might as well be a Neanderthal dragging me to his cave.”

Her words rocketed through his body, just when he’d thought his desires were under control. “I intend nothing like seduction, neophyte. Or anything else you imagine.”

Shutting down his acute senses was as much a skill as using them. Rather than indulge in her scent, her gasping breaths, and the way her body still hummed with the energy of her exertions, he pushed a hard clench of desire down to where he locked every selfish impulse. He would bust through the bricks she’d stacked around herself. She could keep her physical armor, but he meant for nothing to remain between her mind and victory.

Leto released her hair, gave her one more look up and down. She held her body stiffly. Straight back. Tense limbs. He couldn’t tell if she was truly confident and waiting for his next move, or poised on the edge of terror. He wanted her snarling, not anticipating the worst. Maybe that was the drawback of working with a woman so fresh from the labs. Yes, she was resilient. She also flinched too much for his taste. Only in the Cage had he seen her shed all doubt and use her past as a weapon.

A radical idea took shape in his mind, unlike any he’d ever considered. Then again, he’d never been permitted three short weeks to bend, break, or understand a neophyte. And he’d never trained a woman like this. All he’d managed from Nynn was a semblance of obedience and augmented physical conditioning.

She expected him to treat her like a piece of meat in a lab.

She expected more pain. More degradation.

She did not expect choice.

Although she still glared, Nynn had stopped struggling. Fatigue showed in every feature. The slackness of her brow. The deep purple crescents beneath her ice blue eyes. The tight pinch of her upper lip. She pushed herself hard, and her ability to recover from injury and physical stress had increased since the first outburst of her power, but that seemed to be waning. Just his luck that she’d be as vulnerable as a human by the day of the match.

The goal was to train her, even if that meant dredging up some gentleness. Maybe it wasn’t a matter of busting through brick defenses so much as slinking through their cracks.

He walked toward the bench where he’d left the food. And sat. “I promised a ration. Will you come eat?”

Wariness altered her features. She was beautiful. More than that, she drew the eye. Even if Leto hadn’t been charged with her care and training, she would claim his attention. That wariness, however, made her look younger—more like how she must’ve appeared among the humans. He didn’t like reminders that she’d once had a life beyond the walls of the complex. In part because that life was obviously holding her back. In part because he didn’t want to sympathize with what she’d lost. In part because he never dealt well with things he couldn’t understand.

Fighting. Feeling the burn of muscles well used and injuries on the mend. Soaking in the balm of applause. Bedding a woman who took his victories into the primal vessel of her body.

Leto knew those things.

And he knew that even the wariest creature eventually responded to food and a soft voice.

Nynn rubbed her face, then the back of her neck again. She assessed the arena, her eyes blue on silver on suspicion. Then she shrugged.

“What was that for?”

She walked toward him with defiance in her steps. Moments of doubt . . . gone. “You could hold out your hand and offer me food, then take it away. In the scheme of risk and reward, this has more potential for reward.”

“Too many words for a caveman like me. Does that mean you’ll eat?”

“Only if you tell me if that was almost a joke.”

“Almost.”

And she almost smiled. A different sort of awareness eased over Leto’s skin, then deeper, into his bones.

Still graceful despite her fatigue, Nynn sat beside him on the bench. “Sandwiches, eh?”

“Plan on being picky, woman? Just shut up and eat.”

That was definitely a smile. Her mouth was small when compared to her other features, but she used it well. Small, straight white teeth and curving lips. Nothing too overt, but the effect was devastating. Her eyes lit with amusement. The freckles across her nose and the apples of her cheeks held his attention as they did every time.

She opened the wrapper and began to eat, as he’d commanded. An apple, a sandwich made from rough wheat bread and cold ham, and a large portion of almonds. Protein for fighting. They sat in the arena, which felt cavernous when used as a simple dining facility. They took up so little space in a place where Dragon Kings trained to be larger than life.

He wasn’t used to feeling small.

After glancing toward Nynn, he stopped hesitating and flat-out stared at her profile. The haircut he’d forced on her was uneven, but the short, spiky style suited her. It was aggressive and showed off the strong line of her jaw. She had small ears, which came to a subtle point at the top.

“Is this the price for my food? You staring at me?”

“Not at you. Just your ears. Like a pixie.”

“You don’t seem the sort to wax poetic.”

“I wasn’t. Legends of fairies and pixies originated with Clan Pendray, their Celtic mysticism and Highland secrets. Just wouldn’t expect a feature like that on a Tigony.”