Caged Warrior

FOUR

Partner. With her.”

“Yes, Leto.” The Old Man stroked a mustache as wan as his skin and as thin as his hair. Had he not possessed piercing green eyes, he would’ve appeared an albino. “The crowd grows weary of your successes. Betting has been poor—all in your favor. It’s become a losing prospect for the bookies. Some have refused to take wagers on you. The other cartels refuse to pit their best against you in a future Grievance, which would exclude you from the games.” He grinned again with that warped joker’s smile. “Apparently there exists the possibility of too much of a good thing.”

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.”

“So rude. What of your legendary honor?”

Hellix really was repulsive. His body and his features were as appealing as any of their people, but his lips twisted in a way that set off her defensive reflexes. He exuded a cocky, malevolently violent nature.

And that brand. What did it mean? Audrey couldn’t look at it without cringing.

Leto’s expression was a hundred times more condescending than he’d shown her. Maybe it was a small mercy to know he held some people in even lower regard.

“My honor doesn’t apply to men who have none,” he said.

“Yet you work without question for our master.” Hellix flashed an arrogant smile. “You’re none too smart, my friend.”

Leto unleashed a low growl. His fists bunched like hunks of steel at the ends of his corded forearms. Audrey’s view of his back was impressive. The leather straps holding his damaged armor did little to conceal a patchwork of old scars across rippling, tense muscles. Those muscles made her stomach watery. Taut tendons at his nape were all the more impressive because of his closely cut black hair. She could practically see him twitching with eagerness for the standoff to explode.

The effect of witnessing a commanding man on the verge of savagery was undeniable. Her breath was strong and fast, just like her heartbeat. Her own fists were at the ready. She would back Leto if matters came to blows—bizarre, considering their inauspicious start. The odds weren’t in his favor, and she was smart enough to recognize any ally. She squeezed her fingers even tighter, hardly daring to exhale. Her only desire was to leave with her body and brains intact.

That meant leaving with Leto.

However, a very deep, surprising part of her wanted to see him pound the shit out of Hellix.

The allure of oncoming violence stuck a blade of betrayal between her ribs. Audrey was a thinking, civilized woman. She had valued logic, books, long conversations with Caleb about history and politics. He’d teased her for making her way through Shakespeare’s plays in chronological order.

This was fascinating on an elemental level.

Only then did she notice that Leto had angled his body between her and Hellix. Intentionally? She didn’t dare believe it. Her tormentor-cum-ally had kicked her in the guts. Repeatedly. He’d dragged her by the hair and watched her dress. Only shards of his conversation with the Old Man helped make sense of his protective stance.

She was valuable to him.

Their postures coiled with menace. “I await our next contest,” Leto said, his voice impossibly low. “Just as I await a repeat of the last outcome.”

Hellix’s mask slipped for only a second. Beneath the posturing was shame. Audrey wondered if she’d have noticed it before what had taken place in the Cage. The acuity of her senses was amplified. Although Hellix hid it quickly, she was certain Leto had also caught that moment of doubt. No wonder he could stand in the face of Hellix’s hulking body and fierce scowl. Shame could be as debilitating as pride or fear.

Leto seemed a master at exploiting weaknesses.

Hellix laughed, as if none of it mattered. “One day I’ll throw you down. I’ll sever your head from your body and you’ll leave this world.”

“If you even came close to earning a place in the Grievance, I might take that threat seriously.”

“You arrogant—”

“I’ve earned my arrogance.” Rather than push the physical tension, Leto stepped back. The gesture from any other man would’ve seemed like retreat. His condescending expression, accented by the silver scar on his upper lip, said otherwise. He owned the moment. “You boys need the practice. We’ll leave you to it.”

He took Nynn’s clasped hands in one of his and tugged her through the cluster of savagery. “Oh,” he added, meeting the eyes of each of Hellix’s cronies. “The Old Man is here today. Not a bad time to try impressing him—unless impressing Hellix holds more meaning.”

Hellix’s men were surprisingly susceptible to Leto’s ploy. They broke into overtly masculine trash-talking and slapped one another like football players before a big game. Their interest in Leto and Nynn dissipated in a breath. Hellix remained a fuming, intimidating barrier, but even he didn’t stop them from exiting.

Instead, he took control of what resources he had left: the men who’d abandoned him. “Come on, you shit stains. Get in that Dragon-damned Cage.”

Audrey didn’t look behind her as Leto’s grip was replaced by the guard’s manacles. Her exhale was pure relief. The incident added new layers to her situation. Being trained by a fool or a sadist would only get her killed. Now, she trusted Leto more than she would’ve thought possible upon waking that morning.

Morning. What a joke. She had no idea whether the sun shone, or the moon instead.

“How did you know he would back down?”

Leto walked ahead of her with long strides. He cast an assessing glance over his shoulder. He seemed to do that most frequently when she used logic rather than mindless hysterics. Not the best first impression she’d ever made, but screw it. Anyone who’d suffered in Aster’s labs would’ve behaved the same way.

“I’ve lived in close quarters with Hellix for six years,” he said. “I’ve never seen him strike first.”

“And the others? No concern?”

His impressive back gleamed bronze beneath the corridor’s fluorescent lights. “My skills are not limited to the Cages.”

“I’ve seen that much.” She ran a hand over her raggedly shorn hair. She wanted a mirror, if only to even out the damage he’d done. Or maybe to see herself as he saw her. “Brawn seems to be your lifeblood. I’d like to survive, thank you very much. That means learning from you.”

He chuckled so softly that his lips barely moved. The sound was as throaty and scarred as his voice. “I’m not going to need to break you.”

“You sound disappointed.”

“Maybe.”

Something close to amusement hovered in his glittering black eyes. Even with the fluorescent glare and the strange brightness of her senses, she couldn’t be sure. She’d forgotten how many subtle human emotions were cloaked among the Dragon Kings. Facial expressions were generally placid and restrained—the better to keep the Five Clans from slaughtering each other millennia ago.

Living among human beings, she had learned to smile and laugh and cry with abandon. She had learned to express what she felt. Here, that was a dangerous weakness she would have to unlearn. Otherwise, every ploy and intention would scream across her features.

More thefts. Now I can’t even laugh or cry.

“I don’t doubt you’ll find new ways to keep me in my place,” she said quietly.

“An invitation if ever I heard one.”

His scant smile was Audrey’s first glimpse of the man behind the armor. She hid a smile of her own. Women possessed advantages that balanced obvious vulnerabilities. From the dawn of time, they’d latched onto the biggest and strongest males. Safety among alphas. Out among humans who’d layered civility over old instincts, she would’ve been appalled at such a thought.

Leto was the alpha she needed in order to survive. To get her son back. To make the Asters pay.

The guards returned them to Audrey’s cell and locked them both inside.

Leto leaned against a damp wall and crossed arms that bulged with sculpted muscles. Everything he did led back to the Cages. Be the best. Save his family. But he was incurably brainwashed by the Asters. He was part of the system she was going to burn to the ground. Only when it came to surviving the matches did their goals align.

“Are you going to tell me what happened in there?”

He lifted his brows a fraction. “With Hellix? You were there.”

“No, in the Cage.”

Hard masculine features shifted into an expression of . . . confusion? Disbelief? “You really don’t remember?”

“I damn sure remember you kicking the crap out of me.”

Audrey dared to approach him, which she wouldn’t have hours before. The energy buzzing in her blood was like a venomous toxin, but she didn’t feel sick. Only different. More radiant, although that word didn’t make sense. People weren’t radiant. That was the stuff of cosmetics commercials and descriptions of brides in wedding white.

Still. She couldn’t deny that she’d come away changed. Whether that was good or bad would have to wait.

Within arm’s length, she touched his blasted armor—a burnt edge of leather and flame-curled iron. His chest remained concealed, but the pitted metal and singed padding were exposed. The champion had been bested.

She preferred him whole and shielded. Powerful. Useful.

More potent.

“But I don’t remember this,” she said. “What did this much damage?”

“You did.”

“No way. I told you, my gift never manifested.”

“Don’t make me repeat myself, neophyte. You blew a hole in Dr. Aster’s lab. That’s how the Old Man found out about you, and that’s why you’re here.”

Flickers of memory pushed through. Fire. Lightning. Pain and rage fused into energy she couldn’t control. She wanted to protest, but she was too uncertain to contradict Leto’s outrageous claim.

That’s how Reed escaped.

How had she forgotten? She’d unleashed chaos enough for him crawl to freedom. In her previous memories, he’d simply . . . gone.

The truth remained stark. Her hopes were no stronger now than when rage had given over to a burst of power she couldn’t remember unleashing.

Instead, she was left with a new truth. She had a gift from the Dragon.

She’d become reconciled to her lack. Dragon be, she hadn’t lived among her own kind for years. Now she recalled kinship, deep roots, and matched instincts. It should have been a joyful realization. Only, Audrey was ready to vomit. Sick, shadowy fear clenched inside her chest. She sank to the damp floor and leaned against one of the algae-covered walls. Eyes unseeing, she fought to remember just as hard as she fought to forget.

“We start again tomorrow,” Leto said. “Sleep now.”

The sound of the clanging gate echoed through the dank space. Audrey barely noticed. She pushed her fingers against her temples. Something was there, lurking in her mind—something dark and terrifying and ready to erupt.