He could comment on her technique later. Once she was safe again.

Safe?

Dragon be, he was losing perspective.

“Now come here,” Leto said, voice rasping.

Kilgore raised his brows. The surprise and even the fear of Leto bursting through his door was gone. His rat-sly expression followed every movement. Trying to gain advantage. That wasn’t going to happen. No matter the intricacies of power Leto was only just untangling, he was still a Dragon King. And still a foot and a half taller.

He grasped Kilgore by his scruff and stood him on solid footing. “Stay there. Don’t move. Nynn had a good try, although I’m fairly sure you can serve food with one arm.” Close to Kilgore’s ear he said, “The Old Man would be upset if I killed you, but I wouldn’t be. I’d finish what she started, and I’d make it agonizing.”

Kilgore swallowed. His forehead looked squashed in proportion to the rest of his face. It was slick with sweat. Although he didn’t acknowledge Leto’s threat, he didn’t move either.

Leto turned his attention to Nynn, who lay watching the exchange with an expression of rage. A mirror of his own anger. What the fuck was he going to do with her?

She should’ve broken by now.

That she hadn’t made him proud and furious. He wasn’t a man used to processing contradictions, yet the night had been full of them. Leto knelt before her. Although loath to use Kilgore’s ripped shirt for the task, he wiped the blood off her forehead. Softly. Almost soothingly. As if lulling a child. She’d behaved like a child—one with a woman’s body. But she was a warrior, not a seductress. Otherwise Leto would’ve found them in some state of undress, in a sexual position he didn’t want to imagine. Instead, they’d been bleeding and spitting at each other like cats in a bag.

Kilgore must’ve sensed her potential for violence. He usually liked his girls complacent but conscious. Leto would admit to admiring her technique with the knife later, but he’d also grill her about letting a little man get the jump on her.

Then he’d spend hours making sure it wouldn’t happen again.

Her punishment, however . . . that was his priority. What came to mind made him ill, but maybe it was just what had to happen. He needed to bust into that stubborn skull of hers. Kilgore would help, only under Leto’s watchful eye.

She winced.

“That hurts?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Imagine what pain you’d be in now if he’d got hold of you.”

“No telling.” Her eyes darted to the metal drawers in the corner of the room. “Tranquilizers or something like them. From Aster’s lab. What I felt would depend on the drug.”

He took her chin in his palm. Met her eyes. Pale, silvery blue was turbulent and fraught with emotions Leto wasn’t sure he’d ever felt, let alone all at once. “You’d have felt every cut and bruise and violation once you awoke. If you did.”

That focused her. Good. If she couldn’t see the consequences of a mistake, she would be useless to him. And she’d get herself killed.

“As it was, I think you were trying to accomplish something underhanded. Kilgore specializes in that. He asks a great deal in return for some favors.” Leto held out his hand. “The letter, Nynn.”

Her steady stare meant she was getting better at hiding her emotions, but he felt her thigh jump where it pressed against his.

“I could strip it off you,” he said. “Just like I stripped contraband off your cell guards. I thought I’d let you keep a little dignity. For the moment.” He flexed his fingers. “Hand it over.”

“How did you know?”

“Because you’re a clever woman.”

Her manacles rattled as she dug into her tunic. He was familiar with that sound—the sound of life in the complex. But the tinny, hollow sound of handcuffs against the metal bed frame sent a shiver of unease up his back. Had he been only a few minutes later . . .

She retrieved the letter and handed it over, her eyes churning with hatred.

It smelled of the peppermints from the butcher paper she’d used. Unceremoniously, Leto ripped it into pieces. “And that’s that.”

“Bastard.”

He gripped her chin with much more force. Now that she was no longer in danger, he had the luxury of letting his anger return. Full. Powerful. “We have two days left before our first match. And another pair of matches in the months to follow. You will fight with me. Or would you rather forfeit your son’s life? Here you are, risking his safety, believing the lies this creature spins. Or maybe you intended to chance an escape. Where would you go, idiot girl? Maybe since you’ve been free of your child for a few weeks, he’s no longer a concern.”

Nynn lashed out—within inches of wrapping her manacle chain around his neck. He caught both wrists. So much proof of her redoubling skills would be something to celebrate later.

“Nearly there, neophyte. What would you have done after you caught me?”

“Enjoyed watching your eyes bulge.”

“Would’ve been fun while it lasted?”

“Very.”

“Too bad, then.” He slipped two fingers between her collar and her neck, then jerked her close.

He kissed her.

And just as he’d expected—Dragon be, just as he’d secretly wanted—she fought back. Kicked. Twisted. Tried to wrest free of his hands.

The slow softness of their first kiss was some distant dream, something that had taken place between two different people.

This . . . this was who they really were.

Of course he enjoyed it. Her spark and fire had been his to observe and nourish for weeks. But his enjoyment wasn’t the goal. For a moment more, he indulged in the feel of her. Strong but lithe and feminine. Hot. She tasted of blood, although he knew that couldn’t be right. Maybe it was because she made him that crazy. Bloodlust. Needing an outlet.

He pushed her down against the floor. Arms, legs, torso—she was a thin, chained woman, which meant she was easy to pin, no matter her fight. Leto levered above her, stomach to stomach, and held her writhing body in place. His own body was hard. Rock hard. Strung tight and wanting and demanding. Against the dictates of his mind, he found himself thrusting his hips, seeking the tender flesh that would slake the tension he’d battled for weeks.

He forced his tongue into her mouth. Grinned when she bit him. One swift move and he cupped her bottom jaw with his palm. The throat was such a vulnerable part of the body. Her gasp of surprise—she had no air now—was a sick invitation for Leto to take more.

He wouldn’t.

He reined in his screaming, aching needs. Breathing hard, he was needy in ways he hadn’t felt in years and years. Maybe ever. He was stretched to the point of breaking and couldn’t afford that luxury.

His turmoil was nothing compared to the fury on Nynn’s face. The streak of blood on her forehead and the streak of his blood on her mouth. Her hair a spiked tangle. Her tunic ruched over one hip, which bared a sliver of golden skin. She looked as disheveled as if she’d just been fucked by a group of men.

He would do murder before he let that disgusting scenario come to pass.

In truth, she’d only been kissed by one Dragon King. By him.

Leto growled low in his throat. He had to get this done before his imagination and his lust got the better of his plan. Because he did have a plan. Successful Cage warriors took bars of steel and bent them into the weapons needed for victory. Nynn was just such a weapon. He still needed to bend her to fit his needs, for both of them to thrive.

Through it all, Kilgore had stood transfixed. The greed in the man’s wild eyes was as obvious as the bulge between his legs.

“Take down your pants,” Leto told him.

Kilgore blinked.

Nynn shrieked, fought harder, and managed to land a solid punch against Leto’s temple. He ground out a curse and hauled her up to her knees. After trapping her manacled wrists at the base of her spine, he caught the back of her collar with his free hand. She was as trapped as when he’d pinned her against the floor. Only now, her mouth was level with Kilgore’s pathetic erection.