Indignation burned in Leto’s throat. To have his victories so insulted was something he’d never imagined. Couldn’t comprehend. After the blow he’d suffered at Nynn’s hands, the insult to his pride was too much.

A faint glow radiated from her body, even through her armor. The training arena took on an eerie light. Her power shocked him. Stayed with him. A headache had burst across his temples—the constant beat of unreleased tension.

He swallowed in an attempt to regain his patience. He couldn’t argue with the head of the Aster cartel. Perhaps the facts could be plainly stated.

“Sir, I’ve never fought with a partner. She’s an untested threat to herself and to me.”

“My point exactly. She adds an element of uncertainty that you no longer possess. The crowd will hold its breath and the exchange of coin will skyrocket.” The Old Man thumped forward, near enough to touch the bars of the Cage. “You will do this, Leto. I don’t care how you manage it. If Nynn of Tigony survives three matches, I will provide your sister Pell with whatever medical care she requires.”

“For life?”

“What remains of it.”

Leto’s focus returned, as did a sudden lifting of his heart. He didn’t like the situation, and rebellious thoughts doubted he could make it happen. But his purpose remained as clear as the sunlight his mother had described to him as a boy.

“Pell has been under the care of my older sister and brother-in-law for many years,” Leto said with a tight roughness in his throat. “My family would be very grateful for the assistance. I will do this, sir.”

“Good.”

The Old Man thumped away—three sounds with each step. Step. Cane. Shuffle. Leto would’ve recognized that pattern anywhere. His master’s cadence was nearly as familiar as his own heartbeat.

Over his shoulder, the Old Man called, “I’ll return in the days before the match. Arrangements will need to be made if you’re not ready.”

I’ll be ready.

To turn this woman—practically a human, but for her remarkable powers—into a fighter would be nothing short of astonishing. What better opportunity to demonstrate his prowess as a warrior? Three matches. Keep her alive. Then his comatose younger sister would be protected forever.

Leto returned to where Nynn had fallen. Cropped, golden blond hair glimmered beneath the floodlights that lined the Cage’s octagonal posts. She appeared asleep. Again he was fascinated with her freckles. He’d never seen their like—light brown, not tinged with red as with pale human women. He recognized that her stubbornness resided almost entirely in her pert chin. That stubbornness disappeared while she rested. Flaring brows gave her an exotic look, even among the Dragon Kings. Their women were perfection, hewn of centuries of power and flawless genetics.

Perhaps that was why they could not reproduce. What if such perfection came at great cost?

Leto was not the man to speculate.

“Wake.” He gave her a hard shove. “Lab filth. Get up.”

“I thought you’d decided on Nynn. Sir.”

He indulged in a tight smile because her eyes remained closed. “I did.”

Feathery gold lashes fluttered open. She assessed him in a way that belied her depleted sprawl. “What happened? I’m . . . Shit, I hurt.”

“You don’t remember?”

“Light. An explosion. I thought you said you had speed and reflexes. You decide to blow my head off instead?”

She truly didn’t know? Dragon damn, this was getting messy.

“Get up, or I’ll haul you out of here,” he said. “Your prickly pride wouldn’t like that. Or I can introduce you to Hellix and his allies. They’ll be here to train soon.”

“Hellix?”

“A Pendray. He wasn’t trained for the Cages from youth, as I was. He was a criminal—a rapist and molester of the innocent, including the daughter of one of the Old Man’s backers. Hellix was sentenced to die in a Grievance.”

“But he survived?”

“He was allowed to survive after two straight hours of fighting. The Old Man thought his salacious history made for a good story. He lost that backer but gained a novelty.”

“More about entertaining the crowds,” she said, dragging to all fours. “They sound charming.”

“Hellix’s sycophants believe him a god for having dragged up from that low beginning.”

Her mouth drew into a crooked smile. “And here you made me think all Cage warriors held hands and sang Boy Scout songs.”

Leto scowled and arose. He didn’t consider Hellix a warrior. When he thought of the men and women he respected, he never included that monster.

“Stay, then. I regret that you won’t fare well.”

She held out her hand. “Please, sir.”

Surely a trick.

They were still inside the Cage, with their collars deactivated. He did not relish taking two huge blows in such a short span. From a neophyte, no less.

As was common practice among their people, he assessed her body’s unspoken language. Shaking legs. Unsteady fingers. Sweat-slicked short strands of hair against her nape. Their gazes met, where her icy pale blue eyes revealed her fatigue.

She was in earnest.

He pulled her to her feet. “Walk or be carried.”

Steps ragged, she followed him out of the Cage. She scratched at her forearms as if energy bristled inside her body. A glimmer of that electric explosion still raced through his veins, too. She was a wild creature hewn of untapped potential. He’d witnessed her unflinching determination. The memory of it stirred him in disturbing ways.

He reached the training facility’s exit, having cleared his unwelcome thoughts, when Hellix barged through. Three arrogant shits followed like puppies after scraps, although they matched their idol in size and training.

Hellix’s hair was bright red, which contrasted with his darker skin and piercing blue eyes. He bore scars on his face—from combat, of course, but also a brand in the shape of a dagger on his forehead. Only the brand marred the otherwise handsome features of a Dragon King.

“Leto. You look worse for wear, brother.”

Standing chest to chest, Leto dared not assess his own appearance. He hadn’t considered the effect of Nynn’s powers on his armor and would reveal no such weakness now.

“You are no brother to me,” he said.

The monster’s keen appraisal of Nynn raised Leto’s hackles. “And who is this? Your new project? I should fight harder in my matches. Whores and wealth are satisfying. Still, I’d like to train a neophyte of my own. Imagine the possibilities.”

Leto needed to get Nynn out of there before things got ugly. She was barely able to stand, let alone fight. Free of the rules of the Cage, Hellix never played fair.

Yet Leto couldn’t resist a pointed look at the puckered scar on Hellix’s forehead. “Too bad. Forever banned, knife-branded scum. No neophytes for you.” He looked down at the man he despised. “Now get the fuck out of my way.”

♦   ♦   ♦

Audrey watched the men square off. A primal shiver dusted her limbs with goose bumps. Fear? Curiosity? Or worse, anticipation? She’d never seen such a contest in the making. That she could respond on such an instinctual level was a surprise.

But then, everything inside her felt changed. She couldn’t remember what had happened in the Cage, only that she still ached. Her body was jittery. Her lower jaw trembled. The ends of her fingers tingled as if she’d stuck them in a light socket.

Why do I feel like there’s a tiger in my skin? And what the hell happened to his armor?

But how to demand answers from a man who had more in common with a brick wall than a sentient creature?

Any interrogation would need to wait. This contest was more immediate. Audrey’s senses were supercharged and buzzing. She took in every nuance.

“Seems you’re in my way, champion,” Hellix said, sneering the last word. “I suggest you step back.”

“I don’t think so.”