A quick-fire fury reignited at the thought of what he’d seen done to her. Hellix. That thick, powerful whip. Nasty smiles and debauched taunts.

Nynn’s breath shuddered with every ragged inhale and sloppy, off-tempo exhale. Even that pattern wasn’t normal. Warriors breathed hard and fast after a tough contest, yet always with the rhythm of lungs and heart working together. Her body had no grace. No balance.

He pressed his mouth against her damp, salty temple. “What do you promise?”

“Save my son.”

“One year, Nynn. You will.”

“Burn it all down . . .”

Leto frowned on a sharp intake of hot, electric air. He banked his surprise as Ulia was the first to emerge from her trance. The old woman looked toward him with those eerie, dull bronze eyes.

“Was it a success?”

That was not worry in his voice. He was only evaluating whether a tool at his disposal would be ready for its time in the Cage.

Ulia smiled in a way that gave him no assurances. “Of course. Nynn will have full control of her powers now. She may even outshine you, champion.” She cackled softly, as if her pun about Nynn’s powers was intentional.

Shaking off his frustration, he stretched his aching legs. “What happened in there?”

“We freed what needed to be freed, and tucked away what needed to be tucked away.”

More foreboding. Leto hated this. He couldn’t remember a time when his skills and reputation hadn’t been enough to solve a problem. The whole night had been a study in just that. Frustration built under his skin. With the collars deactivated there in the Cage, his gift became a flood of water ready to burst through a dam. He could destroy concrete and wrought iron and steel.

Nynn coughed. Gasped. Jerked nearly to her knees. Only Leto’s arms kept her from toppling. Watching her wobble because of muscle fatigue after a hard day’s training was one thing. Satisfying. Goals achieved. To see her disoriented and graceless for so many hours was disconcerting. This creature hadn’t returned from a hellish place. Not yet. That it existed in her own mind was not something he could shake away. He’d suffered it as well. Looking too closely would mean admitting the same dark places lurked inside of him—darker than he already knew.

“Nynn,” he said. “Sit still. Breathe with me.”

Slowly, with exaggerated care, he showed her the rhythm she needed for respiration. He stroked her bare arm with the same tempo. She nodded in time as well. They were more attuned than Leto had ever been with another being. Rather than push that realization away, he hid it. Kept it for later. A Cage warrior could not afford softness.

Yet he was a champion. Surely that meant one small concession.

“Leto,” Nynn whispered. She turned in his arms. She touched the head and the tail of his tattoo. Soft fingertips shook where she traced lines of ink and his throbbing veins. She lowered her head until her mouth nestled behind his ear. “I have a serpent, too.”

“Where is yours?”

The touch of her hot, wet tongue against his skin was as unexpected as it was provoking. “Behind my breast. It waits to bring down our opponents.”

“Good.” Better than good. He smiled against her roughly cut hair. “It will be a treat to share victory with another. Something new.”

He swallowed. Exhaled. She had barely emerged from a psychic trance. The desire he felt had no place in that moment, but the need remained. Changed. Stronger. More dangerous.

He meant what he’d said. The prospect of standing beside this unflinching woman while the crowd cheered their shared triumph was incredible. He wouldn’t be alone. His heartbeat sped and his body swiftly roused. Concern plunged straight back down to primal need. He’d never had a partner in the Cages. They shared the same goal: win. Win again and again.

They could share that triumph as lovers. Fierce. Together.

Yet her groggy words would not leave his mind.

Burn it all down . . .

He wanted to ask Ulia what it meant. Something stilled his tongue. For now, the ritual had been a success. He had a partner who might be more than a burden, more than a tool. That was all he needed to know.

Ulia levered onto her feet with great difficulty. Leto would’ve aided the old woman, but Nynn needed just as much help in standing.

Her smile quirked. “You can let go now.”

Leto nearly matched her grin. Nynn seemed lighter. More at ease. The change was hard to pinpoint. A certain cockiness in the set of her shoulders? A brow smoothed of so many worry lines? Even his ability to read a fellow Dragon King fell short.

Forcing himself to release her arms, he stepped back. Nynn took a deep breath that seemed significant. Exhaled. Tossed her head in a way that once would’ve flung long, pale hair back over her shoulder. “I’m eating today, Leto. I’m sleeping. And I’m not training for a single minute.”

A laugh escaped him. He couldn’t help it. She was no longer a neophyte, despite her lack of experience in an actual Cage match. The confidence and competence shimmered off her. Stronger now. Undeniably powerful. Almost savage.

Dragon be, he wanted her.

“Yes, you’re eating today. Tomorrow we’ll learn to coordinate our strengths and weaknesses.”

She tilted her head, still wearing a teasing smile. “You have weaknesses?”

“Few. Very few.”

“That will be interesting.”

Drawn by a newfound camaraderie, he stepped closer and touched her chin. Perhaps it was his relief that made him relent. She wanted a piece of her old life. Who was he to deny whatever would propel her through the tough months to come?

“Audrey, you will get your son back.”

She flinched. Drew back. Frowned—just when he’d gotten used to her fine, smooth brow and another pattern of freckles. “My name is Nynn.”

He shrugged. “If you’d rather.”

“And you must have me mistaken with some other neophyte. I had no idea you trained so many.”

“What do you mean?”

“Leto, I have no son.”

He went very, very still. His lungs had stopped working. Quickly, he searched for Ulia. She stood outside the Cage. An enigmatic smile turned her face into a mass of overlapping wrinkles. “The Old Man will be pleased, don’t you think?”

Leto grabbed Nynn’s arms. Gave her a shake. Harder. Her injuries would heal but he needed to get through to her—to her mind—as if his will alone could undo the last few hours. As if that would ease the sudden plummet in his gut.

“If not for your son, then why will you fight? Tell me.”

“For the same reason you do,” she said calmly. “For the glory of the Asters.”

Nynn woke with a massive headache and little memory of what had happened the night before.

Night. As if anyone could tell light from dark when underground. The bare bulbs were out, so that meant night. There was no other way to mark time other than the schedule Leto set for her training. She was grateful for the attention from the Asters’ champion. Being given over to a lesser warrior’s tutelage would mean her defeat.

The idea of defeat was as powerful as the idea of death.

Leto was fast becoming more than a trainer. She remembered being at odds with him as if watching the memories of another woman. Why had she been so contentious? She should’ve been paying attention from day one. And why, for so long, had she denied her attraction to him? He was a godlike man—a living example of why Dragon Kings should be revered. All graceful power. His skills made him impressive, and his teachings had made her strong, but he possessed a magnetism she no longer wanted to refuse.

Despite her headache and how her back throbbed, she lay in the dark and combed through the images of how he’d held her. How he breathed. How he caressed. How he kissed.

She hadn’t seen him with the right eyes. Blinded by pride, she was of Tigony blood. From the house of the Giva, no less. Her condescension and a few years of martial training in her youth had made her stubborn—just enough knowledge to be a danger to herself. She’d wasted too much time.