A year in the Cages.

She didn’t want to become such a monster.

“The next step is for you to control it,” he said plainly.

“That I managed to do it at all is as good as it gets.” She pushed to her feet. Her balance was unnaturally steady. “How are we going to fight with that bomb ready to mow us both down?”

“Energy can be controlled. If you want to learn how.”

“You act like I’m doing this on purpose!”

“I thought that. Not anymore.”

This talk was more than just talk. He was prodding a place as tender as a wound that had never healed.

“Dragon damn,” she whispered. “I hate you.”

If he shrugged in reply, she was going to smack him until her hands bled and he wrung her neck. Instead, he stood and walked toward the center of the Cage. Big man. Big, confident steps. Eyes the color of his singed leather armor were sharp, but his arrogance had dimmed. Why? Perhaps less need to posture? Or the inherent faith in what it was to be a true, unencumbered Dragon King?

Maybe she didn’t hate him. The word didn’t take into account how he made her terrified of her own impulses. She wore the same skin, but beneath it were new urges. She was struck by how the energy of their gifts reminded her of sexual potency. He looked stronger, bigger, and more intimidating, and her body responded—no matter that he still bought into a system so corrupt that no decent person could possibly defend it.

They squared off. Audrey was furious at him and the Asters and herself. Leto was as calm as she’d ever seen him.

“Let me tell you five words.” His voice was low. Hypnotic again. “See if it jars your memory.”

“Do it.”

He paused for three heartbeats. “A box in a corner.”

Cold covered her skin. Flashes. Old memories. From inside out, her body convulsed.

“Follow it, Nynn. Talk.”

“Can’t.”

“I can’t read your mind like some Indranan witch. Talk.”

“Some gifts are too dangerous.” Her voice sounded different. “No. Those weren’t my words.”

“It’s what they told my parents about my sister Pell. Now she’ll be in a coma for the rest of her life. What there is of it.” He crossed his arms, appearing defensive. “Did they beat you? When they forced their way into your mind?”

“I don’t remember.” Audrey shook her head. “Did they beat you?”

“Yes.”

No wonder he looked so wary. She couldn’t imagine anyone or anything strong enough to cow Leto of Garnis.

Bitter acid had collected at the back of her tongue. Flickers returned. Whispers and secrets and fear as painful as needles piercing her eyelids. Entire years were missing.

Leto reached out to touch her clenched hand. A zap tingled between his skin and hers. Their gazes caught. “They took it from you, Nynn. There are steps to reverse the process. You know that.”

“And let some Heartless witch in my head? If that’s what’s happened, I’m sure as hell not letting it happen again. There has to be a better way. More training.”

“We’re almost out of time.” His anger, and all of his emotions, were becoming easier to read. Was that Nynn’s doing, or was she affecting his personality as much as he was altering hers?

“Then I want to make the most of that time. That means sleep. Will you let me, or will this argument go on all night?”

He caught her chin and looked at the back of her skull. “You’re still bleeding.”

“And that’ll be healed by morning. Don’t tell me you haven’t realized I’m changing.”

“For the better.”

Audrey pulled free of his taut fingers. “Are we done?”

“Fine. Limit met. Loud and clear.” From beneath his armor he pulled a fist-sized packet wrapped in white butcher paper. “Here. One of the guards wanted you to have this.”

The scent of mint hit her with an old memory. Jack with a candy cane stuck in his hair. His third Christmas, when anything Tonka yellow made her little boy squeal with a child’s enthusiasm.

“Why?”

He lifted his brows. “To buy your attention with trinkets. Would you take one of them as your lover to secure gifts and privileges? Or would you fight to earn them honorably, as I have? I pass them on to you as a reminder. Trust anyone here but me and you’re a fool. I’ve always been clear about my motives. These humans would trade Dragon knows what for trinkets and pornography. You’re above them.”

She took the package from him. You need to make a choice. That meant knowing what, exactly, she was choosing.

“Were you given the chance to hold your niece?”

He flinched. “Sometimes you make no sense.”

“Answer me, please. Sir.”

A long exhale. Was he merely frustrated with her? Tired? Or did he feel the same buzzing aftereffects of their kiss? The fizzing snap in her blood—part Leto, part aftershocks of her explosive gift—was tantamount to infidelity. Caleb was dead, while she’d been turned on in the midst of a sick power game. Leto’s mouth. His hard restrained strength. His beautifully masculine body and oddly innocent reserve.

“Did you?” she asked more sharply.

He studied her for a long time. She didn’t waver, just waited for his answer.

“Yes, I held her. A little girl they named Shoshan. She has my sister’s dark hair. Fairer skin.” He looked away. Shook his head. “It was an honor to see her. To know I’d earned such a gift for them and for our clan.”

“Then it is possible. The Asters . . . ?”

“I told you. Winning is important. Keeping their family profitable is vital. Without them, the system collapses.”

“Maybe for the best.”

“My father died in a Grievance after fathering three children. He didn’t believe it a useless system, and neither do I. There’s too much to be earned for those we cherish.”

Cherish. Such a tender word from a brick wall of a man.

“We will never agree on this,” she said, almost to herself.

“Just do your job. That means controlling your powers. Indranan live here. They could unlock what we haven’t been able to.”

She stepped away. Once. Again. “My mind is not theirs and it’s not yours.”

No matter Leto’s faith and his skills, no matter the birth of his niece, she didn’t trust that her son would be returned out of the goodness in Old Man Aster’s heart. He and his warped son had no hearts. They didn’t give away anything that didn’t earn them something in return. Letting Leto hold little Shoshan only kept him focused on earning their respect and adding to his family’s glory. The incentive had successfully bought the rest of Leto’s life, and had taken the life of his father.

She sure as hell wasn’t letting anyone into her mind on that scant possibility. Already her thoughts were blended, distorted, and still aching with an old, forgotten tremor of bloodshed she didn’t want to see.

“What else do you get out of this system?” She was trying to shed her uncertainty. For nearly three weeks, that had meant baiting Leto. “Maybe extra beans at dinner time? A pillow for when you sleep on the floor? Or do you just like to feel important once a month? I’m assuming it’s not only for procreation, otherwise your sister would have half a dozen children.”

“I’ve won eight Grievances. Shoshan has been the only child to survive.” He blinked once. “You’re not the only one here who’s suffered.”

His emotions shut down. Closed off. He was as opaque now as when he’d first strode into her training cell—further evidence of how many of his subtle clues she’d unconsciously learned to interpret. He exited the Cage. A brief shudder marked the moment when the collar revoked his gift.

Leto was skilled in all methods of combat, but the amazing power that set him apart from human beings could be withdrawn on a whim. Even among the Dragon Kings he was special. Clan Garnis. The Lost. He had the heart and soul of a warrior. The taunt of having his greatest asset offered, then stolen again . . . Surely he must regret losing that precious blessing.