Pants down, the man was stroking himself.

“What the fuck is this?”

“This is your punishment, neophyte,” Leto said against her cheek. “He would’ve taken you. You’d have been awake, or tranquilized, or even asleep, but you never would have left this room before some part of him was in some part of you.”

“You ripped up my letter.” Again, her voice was flavored with emotions Leto couldn’t parse. Fear, yes. Disgust. Pleading? She even backed up, as if being closer to him would protect her—even though he was the one holding her immobile. “What else do you want from me?”

“I want you to continue your negotiations with this human slime.”

She squeaked when he gave her collar a shake.

“Tell me, Nynn,” he said. “You planned more than asking him to deliver a letter. You planned to escape. And you were going to give this man favors in return.”

Her hiss held the sinister potential of a gas pipe and an open flame. “Are you not hearing me? Every single day? I have to save my son!”

“Two steps closer, Kilgore.”

“Hurt her,” came the man’s lust-roughened voice. “Fight her again.”

“Shut up, unless you think I couldn’t hack through any part of you with her practice knife.”

Kilgore only moaned as he worked himself. “Yes, sir.”

Nynn’s eyes were watering. The back of her head was pressed against Leto’s breastplate. Her gaze never left Kilgore’s throbbing little cock. The man’s expression was one of absolute, entranced pleasure.

“And you haven’t been hearing me,” Leto said softly. He was restraining her in the most violent, most vulnerable hold he’d yet used, but he’d never spoken to her with more compassion. “Nynn, you are here now. You will become a Cage warrior because you have reason to. Because they’ve taken every other choice away from you. Because they will never let you succeed any other way.”

She twitched her shoulders, then pounded her head against his armor. A sound of pure frustration reverberated around the walls of that tiny room.

He beckoned Kilgore even closer. “The alternative is to let men like this use you. To become a victim. You were a victim when they killed your husband and took you and your son.”

A sob ripped out of her chest, but he didn’t think it was because of the situation. “I tried,” she said, almost soundless. “Caleb was dead before I knew what was happening. Blood sprayed across the refrigerator. Jack’s mouth was covered in masking tape. They used a Taser on me, covered my head with a hood, and zip-tied it into place. Late on a Thursday evening. We’d ordered a pizza. But in thirty seconds, they destroyed my whole life.”

“Here, today, you put yourself in the position to be a victim again.” He nudged her temple with his chin. “Look at him. The man is disgusting. You’re a Dragon King of the Tigony, on her knees. How will this save your son?”

“You could let me go. You could help me find him!”

“That would mean the deaths of my sisters and my niece. I can’t let that happen. We do this together. We fight as one. Or you open your mouth right now and take your chances with this man.”

Kilgore was out of breath now. His eyes were glassy.

“Go ahead, Nynn. Give him what you were willing to give. Taste him. Let him thrust into you.”

“You are sick.”

“It’s what you were ready to do. Forget fighting in the Cages. Forget showing the Asters exactly what you can do. No, instead, you’d let this toad fuck your pretty face on the chance that he’d hand-deliver a letter to the Giva, or open a magic door that set you and your boy free. Give it a try. Now’s the time.”

“What would you do if I did?”

Leto was swinging between the arousal of holding her trembling, infuriated body and the revulsion of forcing her into such a position. All he knew was that even then, as helpless as a woman could be, she was still fighting. She was a fighter. Forget her clan. Forget that she’d married a human. For Nynn of Tigony to do anything less than destroy her enemies was an insult to her potential and their kind.

“I would be disappointed,” he whispered. “And you’d make Kilgore very, very happy.” She gagged when he tightened his grip on her jaw. “So open up. Show both of us what sort of woman you really are.”

She snaked a leg out and around. Not the most effective angle, but it was enough to catch her boot behind Kilgore’s ankle. One quick tug landed the man on his back. She slammed her elbow toward Leto’s ear, and he let her have that small victory.

Quicker than any human, but slower than any member of Clan Garnis who remained free of the collars, he jerked her to her feet. She gasped.

“Now,” he said, his breath rough against her cheek. “A trade.”

Kilgore writhed on the floor. She watched him as if keeping an eye on a venomous insect. Dangerous, but vulnerable. She nodded slightly.

“You’ll walk out of here with me. Very calmly. No more fighting. Otherwise the guards will wonder what the hell happened. Bribes and intimidation will only work for so long.” He grinned. “And in exchange, you get to let loose one more kick.”

Sputtering, still dazed, Kilgore began a pleading sort of moan. He cupped his withering erection and doubled over himself. “Leto. No. Think of what I do for you! Your matches! You’d never know who’s coming up next.”

“And won’t that make it more interesting.” He nestled a cold smile against Nynn’s temple. Her pulse was manic, but she’d stopped struggling. “Do we have an agreement?”

“I don’t get a say?” Kilgore bellowed.

Nynn relaxed, then nodded to Leto. “Agreed. If you hold him down on the bed.”

Leto exhaled slowly. Trusted. And let her go. She didn’t run and she didn’t try to strike him. The measure of faith they’d given one another in that moment was priceless.

Yanking Kilgore into place was no great task. Leto was happy to do it.

Rather than kicking the man, or stomping on his face, or whatever manner of violence Leto could imagine, Nynn calmly walked to the chest of metal drawers. She retrieved another syringe. Her expression was fierce. Only her silvery blue eyes gave her away. Leto was surprised he could read her vulnerability so plainly.

“Time to go to sleep, Kilgore,” she said sweetly. The needle slipped so easily into the vein on the back of his hand. “And when you wake up, you can wonder what I wondered for a whole year. Just what was done to me while I was drugged? I bet your cock is the first thing you check.”

Kilgore thrashed and cursed . . . then slid into unconsciousness.

Leto raised an eyebrow. Not the choice he’d expected.

She met his gaze. “You gave me enough room to kick my leg free.”

“Yes.”

“And you let me get the drop on you—when I hit your temple.”

“Yes.”

“You’re still a sick fucking bastard.”

She wiped the blood from her lip. If anything, her posture was straighter, prouder than Leto had ever seen.

Had she learned a damn thing?

She was impetuous and thought too far ahead of him. Her imagination was more developed than his would ever be—except in matters of combat, when he thought three steps ahead of every opponent. She had no sense. She showed no due deference to the tasks laid out before her like a path. Why would she? Glaring, her wide-set eyes dared him to try again, to make her a victim resigned to her fate.

Resigned.

He would never associate that word with her—his lethal neophyte.

Then why did the word weigh so easily, so heavily, in his own mind?

Leto needed to be away from the woman. Instead, he led her through the corridors, as if dragging a dog that needed to be put down. He gripped the chains of her manacles as he led her toward the guards standing watch at her training cell. Both men raised eyebrows. Nynn looked like she’d just endured two rounds in a Cage. May as well have. The laceration on her forehead was raised on a bruise.