“And why was that? It was easy to joke about being a champion alongside you, but now it’s not so funny.”

“What does that mean?”

She jabbed her forefingers against both of his temples. “This, you Dragon-damned bastard. You commit sacrilege on my skin and keep the Asters’ symbol from me. Am I still such a neophyte that I don’t deserve what I’ve earned? I fought for them the same as you did.”

Leto wanted to smash his mace against everything he could see. Then he’d start again, catching what he missed the first time. He’d kept her from wearing the permanent mark of the family that had ruined her life, and she’d turned it into some sick competition. The irony was strong enough to punch through his resistance to change.

Change wasn’t going to let him be. Walking into the training cell where Audrey MacLaren was held prisoner had been the first step toward this moment. Nothing that significant could be recognized as it happened.

Tell her the truth.

Keep her safe from the truth.

Muscle and strength weren’t enough for him to solve this puzzle. But they might be enough to keep her alive and honor the goal she’d forgotten. No matter what he did, he wouldn’t hold Nynn again. She would become his enemy; her furious expression said as much. That knowledge wedged needles into his joints, until every movement—forward, backward, even standing perfectly still—was agony.

The safety of her mind and, eventually, the safety of her son depended on becoming her rival. She would despise what remained of her year of captivity, but stubborn woman, that bitterness would keep her strong.

“Yes,” he said heavily. “I told him to withhold the family symbol.”

A flare of her nostrils was her only reply. Hair a spiked tangle, breasts still bare, she looked more like a wild Pendray than a woman of royal Tigony lineage. “Then we do this the hard way, you lonayíp piece of shit. I’ll fight beside you, champion, but don’t expect any warning next time. You’ll know I’ve used my gift when it throws you to the ground and you lie there like a steaming heap of shit.”

She deserved her anger. He deserved his anger, too, although he didn’t know where to aim it.

Crossing his arms, he retreated to the old ways. The old places. He’d lived in the complex long enough that he almost convinced himself he welcomed the homecoming—rather than hating the creature he was becoming.

“What does that mean, neophyte?” he asked, needing the distance of that old insult.

“It means that the next time we step into a Cage, you’ll be fighting me, too.”

If you’re in agreement,” said Hark, that grinning idiot, “today will be the day.”

Leto stood in the weapons room. He’d been mentally preparing for his upcoming match where, for the third and hopefully last time, he would be paired with Nynn. For their second turn in the Cage, a month before, they’d been manacled at the wrists. Maybe this time, for added sport, the Asters would chain them at the neck.

Apparently pairing him with a woman who’d rather incinerate him than stand with him wasn’t interesting enough.

The Asters knew. They knew he and Nynn had fallen out, even if they didn’t know the reason. For giving Lamot the command to change Nynn’s tattoo, Leto had endured twenty lashes by one of the family’s hulking human thugs. Nearly, very nearly, he would’ve preferred being whipped by Hellix. To turn his back and take his punishment from a human had been a withering blow to Leto’s pride. That incident, three days after earning that first dynamic victory with Nynn as his partner, only added to the cracks in long-held beliefs.

He was only as valuable as his last success.

In every other respect, he was a slave.

As Nynn progressed through the weeks, appearing more and more content with her lot, she became a living mirror of how he’d spent his life. That she served the people who’d ruined her family was even more devastating. She’d called him brainwashed. Now she was. Literally.

After standing to his full height, he looked down at Hark—and kept his fists firmly at his sides. The man’s smile was fraying Leto’s already tissue-thin temper. “In agreement with what?”

“That today’s the day.” He nodded toward where Silence leaned against the wall. A line of swords and shields reflected her placid expression, unnerving black eyes, and white blond hair. “Silence and I have taken what we need from this place. It was needle in a haystack for a while, but we’re all set. It’s been surprisingly satisfying to follow a hunch and have it work out. But now it’s up to you.”

“Speak plainly. Nynn and I fight next.”

“Yeah, about that.” Hark handled a pair of sickles as if he might select those weapons rather than his usual nighnor. “See, big guy . . . we are your opponents. I’m surprised you hadn’t noticed. And I’m a little disappointed. Being completely ignored doesn’t say much about our ability to intimidate.”

Leto blinked. He was surprised, too. So caught up in the strife he expected to face with Nynn in the Cage, he hadn’t moved through his tried-and-true routine. He hadn’t been this clumsy since he was a green kid.

Then again, he’d never faced decisions that threatened to rip his life in half. He’d trained. He’d fought. He’d won. Those had been the three tenets of his waking days and the dreams he relished at night.

Had been.

He was no longer that arrogant young man. Nynn had become worse than a stubborn neophyte. She was trained and she hated him. That hatred showed in every skewering stare and frenzied attack. Her mastery of her gift bordered on the sublime.

Sublime and devastating.

His right arm still throbbed where she’d landed the full force of an energy burst. Five days ago. Even the fresh lash marks on his back had only hurt for two. Something about her gift had the ability to wedge under the skin and leave traces of that Dragon-damned electricity behind. He itched with the pain of it.

“So,” he said. “We fight. I hope this isn’t your way of asking for mercy.”

Silence hid her mouth behind her hand, but her eyes crinkled around a concealed smile. Hark laughed outright. “We’d never beg quarter and you’d never give it. A waste of breath.”

“You know a great deal about that.”

“Generally. But not this time.” Bright blue eyes morphed from idiotic geniality to the sharp focus of a merciless killer. Intense. Unrelenting. Leto knew from experience that the man was capable, even brilliant on occasion. This was something else entirely. “Are you listening, Leto of Garnis? We know you can, even past these Dragon-damned collars. Listen to the silence.”

Leto glanced at the woman who still leaned against the wall. She lowered her hand, tipped her head, and began to speak.

Only, her voice was more like a sigh. Leto fought past the damping powers of the collar. He’d worked diligently to make that possible, never thinking he would one day use his repressed gift to hear words among a woman’s sighs.

What he heard he could not believe.

Found both halves of the idol.

Deactivate the collars.

Living gold.

Waiting for this.

Go free.

The plan Silence whispered in his ears—practically in his mind—made him want to wring her slender neck.

“And you’ve been hiding this the entire time?”

She lowered her eyes, apparently done with her end of the conversation.

Hark stood close. “Not all of us bought into the system. Some . . .” He looked back toward his lover. “Some of us had never planned to stay. There is an outside world and it’s pretty damn fabulous. You, fearless leader, need to be introduced to it for the first time.”

“Do you always make plans with madness at the root?”

“No, but there’s patience. That should be her real name, you know.”