A pair of strong hands hauled her up and deposited her on a seat. “I should’ve included walking lessons, too? Didn’t realize.”

Leto’s voice was a low purr against her neck. Darkness. With him. Excitement of a different kind replaced the Cages and the disorientation. To be alone in the dark with him. But with no boundaries of leather. Skin on skin.

Breathing had been difficult, cluttered with strange thoughts. Now it was impossible. He had seen all of her. She had not seen all of him. Her imagination did its damnedest to fill in the mysteries. Her personal darkness, there behind the blindfold, was shaded with images of tan skin. Flexing muscles. Sweat. Swagger. Deadly purpose and strength. Dark eyes that watched and assessed. A mouth meant for bold kisses. A body honed for combat and sex.

“You can’t see either?”

He grunted an affirmative. “I told you as much.”

“You sound so calm,” she said. “At ease.”

“We’re on our way to victory. Of course I’m at ease.”

What about the disorientation? Or the terror Nynn couldn’t articulate? Or the restlessness of spirit that burned her sightless eyes with tears. She couldn’t feel at ease. Not like that. Not like him. Some facet of her training, maybe. She was missing something.

“You’re ready for this, Nynn. You have no reason to be this skittish.”

The bus’s engine fired to life and began to move. It sounded familiar, yet altered. All she could do was cling to what she knew. Leto’s voice—that hypnotic, magnetic rumble. His words of encouragement. His warmth created a bubble of intimacy between them. She fumbled for his hand.

He flinched again, the same as when she’d touched his temple. Yet he’d been bold as well. Touching her back. She had enjoyed the attention, but she also remembered that they’d kissed. Hard kisses. His body had levered above hers, strong and resolved. The why and where didn’t matter, only a ghostly impression of having been entirely at Leto’s whim.

He was her compass now.

Nynn tightened her fingers. A simple gesture. Hands together. She needed that reassurance. The contact seemed to unmoor him faster than any attack. Images of bare, damp flesh were replaced by the comfort of having something warm to hold on to in the dark.

She’d needed that before. Holding . . . in the terrible black . . .

“Breathe.”

His low command wove into her like hot honey. Just enough sting. Just enough sweet. Nynn exhaled. Inhaled. He kept hold of her hand and she gave up the unknowns. Too many awaited in the Cage. At least there, she had the skills and confidence to take on whatever stood in her way.

“I’m breathing,” she said. Then more firmly. “I’m breathing.”

The trip wasn’t long, more or less a half hour. Nynn spent that time mentally running through drills and holding Leto’s hand. He made no move to encourage her. No move to push her away.

When the bus stopped, he let her make her own way. How very like him. The brief minutes of silent connection—done now. Good. She needed to focus on something other than how reassuring his touch was. The roughness of his palms. The blunt weight of his bones. Again she felt a surge of wonder and awe that she would fight beside such a warrior.

And again, she wondered why she’d resisted his instruction for so long. A waste of time.

Outside. The smell of snow. She didn’t like it. Too much disquiet in her soul.

The warmth of a new building couldn’t come soon enough. It enveloped her and blocked out the eerie strangeness of being outdoors. She belonged in the complex.

The smell of snow.

A guard removed her blindfold. She, Leto, and ten other Aster family warriors stood in a hallway. It was probably larger than it seemed, but so many tall, broad, bristling men stole every square inch of perspective. They may as well have been crammed into a child’s dollhouse.

Silence stood nearby, with Hark beside her as close as a shadow—that curious, formidable pair. They watched the world as if it contained as many secrets as their clan harbored. Nynn would never consider them allies, but she didn’t tally them among her enemies either.

Hellix, however, seemed born to make enemies of everyone. He looked as if he’d lost more contests than most would ever fight.

“Virgin match.” His brand looked even more hideous in the dim light. No telling skin from shadow from lumped tissue. “You’ll share the spoils with me.”

She disliked the man. That was nothing new. But the desire to run, just run, almost overpowered rational thought. Pain lanced through her head. Deeper. Lower. She could feel it flailing at her back and hear strangled, pleading cries.

Just nerves. Eagerness. She swallowed a surprising twist of bile at the base of her tongue. Hellix was not going to intimidate her.

“If you want,” Nynn said with a shrug. “Would be fun to take you down first.”

His armor was highly polished but plain. Perhaps it was a reminder that he would only ever hold so much status. The reverence Leto had achieved would always be out of reach. “I’d wager it’s been a long time since you’ve been fucked.”

An instant reply formed in her mind.

Leto would kill you first.

It was ridiculous. Beyond satisfying the Old Man’s expectations, Leto needed her for no other purpose. His dislike of Hellix would be more of an incentive to beat the man than anything to do with her. Yet she liked the thought. It warmed her in the same way that holding Leto’s hand on the bus had warmed her. Something to clasp in the dark, even if it was just a delusion.

“You try that and we’ll see who lives to see the next day,” she said quietly. “It might not be me, but you’d lose a limb or two. Maybe even your prick. And then what would you have left to use when throwing around threats?”

“I’ll bring the whip. We enjoyed it so much last time.”

Nynn frowned in confusion, but an insult was ready on her tongue. “Save it for the ring, knife-branded scum.”

He stepped within inches and leaned close to her ear. “I’ll break one bone. You’ll scream. And before you finish screaming, I’ll have broken all of them.”

“What’s your clan, Hellix? I don’t remember which one’s gift is wishful thinking.”

Hark laughed. “Leto, is this how you’ve spent your time? Teaching her how to talk trash? That’s a bold approach. I should consider a refresher course.”

“No need, you idiot clown,” Hellix snarled.

Leto shouldered through the other combatants and looked down one inch. The exact difference in height between him and Hellix. “Shut up.”

Although Silence didn’t say anything, a slinky smile tipped the edges of her lips. Hark grinned and rested his chin on her shoulder, as if settling in to watch. He whispered something in his partner’s ear. Her tiny smile increased. The pair was as enigmatic as the Sphinx, there in the Nile Valley where the Sath staked their territory.

Another woman named Weil of Clan Pendray looked on with utter detachment—which wouldn’t last when she let loose her manic fury. Leaning against one of the beige walls, Fam laughed outright. After so many weeks deciphering Leto’s tightly reined expressions, that laugh was grating, like shouting during a wedding ceremony.

The sooner she could fight, the better.

When the doors behind them were secured, the ones ahead of them opened. A long airlock. Leto turned away from Hellix without haste. He pushed a path through the others and led the way. A primal shot of lightning struck pleasure through Nynn’s body. The hollow behind her breastbone tingled. Her fingers prickled with the remembered feel of his short hair and the soft, warm skin of his temples. Her lips tingled, wanting another taste of him.

She ignored Silence, Hark, Hellix, and anyone else who wasn’t Leto, then followed him toward the other doors. There, guards removed the manacles. She shook her wrists and circled them clockwise, counterclockwise. She popped her knuckles. Rolled her neck. Adrenaline mixed with the scent of Leto’s skin and the warmed leather of his armor. They stood that close.