Caged Warrior (16 page)

The guards were tradition. Ceremony. Show ponies. The real prison was on a much deeper
level—hostages, and the two-sided coin of promise and threat. No number of victories
would change that.

Leto kicked the felled guard to hide his shudder, then barreled past the mess hall
and humans’ quarters. He shoved his sudden, unwelcome realizations into the pit of
his stomach.

He was risking more than he ever had. He was risking his place in the Old Man’s favor,
his place as the Asters’ champion, and his own family.

For a neophyte.

For Nynn.

Who’d thought she could outsmart a devil.

L
eto didn’t knock. He didn’t listen outside the door to confirm his suspicion. He just
burst inside. Hinges gave way to the release of his coiled strength.

During his run through the human complex, he’d pictured what he would find. He hadn’t
thought to find them so far progressed in Nynn’s subjugation.

She was bleeding from her forehead and chained to a metal-framed bed, which was topped
by a flattened mattress. Hunched into himself, moaning, Kilgore held a needle between
his teeth. The blood Nynn had shed was nothing compared to the stream oozing out from
where her wooden practice knife pierced the man’s forearm.

Kilgore turned. His eyes were huge yellow discs. Even if the man was a grasping snake,
he knew when to be afraid. Perhaps that made sense. The lower the animal, the stronger
the instinct to recognize imminent danger.

He spit the needle onto the floor where it rolled to a stop by Leto’s boot.

“Leto.” He was quick to recover. Always had been. “We were in the midst of completing
our transaction when she attacked me.”

“And you decided to subdue her?”

“Exactly.”

“Chains work.” He smashed the hypodermic beneath his heel. “Drugs are best saved for
the lab you came from.”

“You don’t blame me for this. The fault is hers. Surely you’ll punish her.”

“I would’ve been more likely to take your side had you
asked
. Instead, you tell me how to discipline my own neophyte? That isn’t your decision.”

Leto loomed tall over the man. His anger was well out of proportion with the situation.
Although he should be furious at Nynn for doing something so stupid, he was ready
to rip Kilgore into pieces and leave his useless carcass. Maybe someone would miss
him come mealtime.

Again . . . That realization of his limits. Dragon damned, he didn’t need another
unwelcome thought. No matter Leto’s status, dismembering even one as humble as their
human chef was prohibited, when a man like Kilgore should be below a Dragon King’s
notice.

But Nynn was bleeding. Which meant Kilgore was
not
beneath his notice.

He yanked the wooden knife out of Kilgore’s arm and tossed it toward the door listing
on its hinges. The man’s yelp of pain was satisfying.

“Strip your shirt,” he said.

At Kilgore’s compliance, all hissing agony, Leto ripped the flimsy hemp material into
strips. Two minutes later, he’d wrapped an expert field dressing around the three-inch
gash in the man’s forearm. Despite his
boiling turbulence, Leto tamped down a tight smile. Nynn had cut deeply and with careful
aim. Kilgore wouldn’t be able to use that muscle for weeks. Even chained, she’d taken
the man’s right arm out of the contest.

He could comment on her technique later. Once she was safe again.

Safe?

Dragon be, he was losing perspective.

“Now come here,” Leto said, voice rasping.

Kilgore raised his brows. The surprise and even the fear of Leto bursting through
his door was gone. His rat-sly expression followed every movement. Trying to gain
advantage. That wasn’t going to happen. No matter the intricacies of power Leto was
only just untangling, he was still a Dragon King. And still a foot and a half taller.

He grasped Kilgore by his scruff and stood him on solid footing. “Stay there. Don’t
move. Nynn had a good try, although I’m fairly sure you can serve food with one arm.”
Close to Kilgore’s ear he said, “The Old Man would be upset if I killed you, but I
wouldn’t be. I’d finish what she started, and I’d make it agonizing.”

Kilgore swallowed. His forehead looked squashed in proportion to the rest of his face.
It was slick with sweat. Although he didn’t acknowledge Leto’s threat, he didn’t move
either.

Leto turned his attention to Nynn, who lay watching the exchange with an expression
of rage. A mirror of his own anger. What the fuck was he going to do with her?

She should’ve broken by now.

That she hadn’t made him proud and furious. He
wasn’t a man used to processing contradictions, yet the night had been full of them.
Leto knelt before her. Although loath to use Kilgore’s ripped shirt for the task,
he wiped the blood off her forehead. Softly. Almost soothingly. As if lulling a child.
She’d behaved like a child—one with a woman’s body. But she was a warrior, not a seductress.
Otherwise Leto would’ve found them in some state of undress, in a sexual position
he didn’t want to imagine. Instead, they’d been bleeding and spitting at each other
like cats in a bag.

Kilgore must’ve sensed her potential for violence. He usually liked his girls complacent
but conscious. Leto would admit to admiring her technique with the knife later, but
he’d also grill her about letting a little man get the jump on her.

Then he’d spend hours making sure it wouldn’t happen again.

Her punishment, however . . . that was his priority. What came to mind made him ill,
but maybe it was just what had to happen. He needed to bust into that stubborn skull
of hers. Kilgore would help, only under Leto’s watchful eye.

She winced.

“That hurts?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Imagine what pain you’d be in now if he’d got hold of you.”

“No telling.” Her eyes darted to the metal drawers in the corner of the room. “Tranquilizers
or something like them. From Aster’s lab. What I felt would depend on the drug.”

He took her chin in his palm. Met her eyes. Pale,
silvery blue was turbulent and fraught with emotions Leto wasn’t sure he’d ever felt,
let alone all at once. “You’d have felt every cut and bruise and violation once you
awoke. If you did.”

That focused her.
Good.
If she couldn’t see the consequences of a mistake, she would be useless to him. And
she’d get herself killed.

“As it was, I think you were trying to accomplish something underhanded. Kilgore specializes
in that. He asks a great deal in return for some favors.” Leto held out his hand.
“The letter, Nynn.”

Her steady stare meant she was getting better at hiding her emotions, but he felt
her thigh jump where it pressed against his.

“I could strip it off you,” he said. “Just like I stripped contraband off your cell
guards. I thought I’d let you keep a little dignity. For the moment.” He flexed his
fingers. “Hand it over.”

“How did you know?”

“Because you’re a clever woman.”

Her manacles rattled as she dug into her tunic. He was familiar with that sound—the
sound of life in the complex. But the tinny, hollow sound of handcuffs against the
metal bed frame sent a shiver of unease up his back. Had he been only a few minutes
later . . .

She retrieved the letter and handed it over, her eyes churning with hatred.

It smelled of the peppermints from the butcher paper she’d used. Unceremoniously,
Leto ripped it into pieces. “And that’s that.”

“Bastard.”

He gripped her chin with much more force. Now
that she was no longer in danger, he had the luxury of letting his anger return. Full.
Powerful. “We have two days left before our first match. And another pair of matches
in the months to follow. You
will
fight with me. Or would you rather forfeit your son’s life? Here you are, risking
his safety, believing the lies this creature spins. Or maybe you intended to chance
an escape. Where would you go, idiot girl? Maybe since you’ve been free of your child
for a few weeks, he’s no longer a concern.”

Nynn lashed out—within inches of wrapping her manacle chain around his neck. He caught
both wrists. So much proof of her redoubling skills would be something to celebrate
later.

“Nearly there, neophyte. What would you have done after you caught me?”

“Enjoyed watching your eyes bulge.”

“Would’ve been fun while it lasted?”

“Very.”

“Too bad, then.” He slipped two fingers between her collar and her neck, then jerked
her close.

He kissed her.

And just as he’d expected—Dragon be, just as he’d secretly wanted—she fought back.
Kicked. Twisted. Tried to wrest free of his hands.

The slow softness of their first kiss was some distant dream, something that had taken
place between two different people.

This . . .
this
was who they really were.

Of course he enjoyed it. Her spark and fire had been his to observe and nourish for
weeks. But his enjoyment wasn’t the goal. For a moment more, he indulged in the
feel of her. Strong but lithe and feminine. Hot. She tasted of blood, although he
knew that couldn’t be right. Maybe it was because she made him that crazy. Bloodlust.
Needing an outlet.

He pushed her down against the floor. Arms, legs, torso—she was a thin, chained woman,
which meant she was easy to pin, no matter her fight. Leto levered above her, stomach
to stomach, and held her writhing body in place. His own body was hard. Rock hard.
Strung tight and wanting and
demanding
. Against the dictates of his mind, he found himself thrusting his hips, seeking the
tender flesh that would slake the tension he’d battled for weeks.

He forced his tongue into her mouth. Grinned when she bit him. One swift move and
he cupped her bottom jaw with his palm. The throat was such a vulnerable part of the
body. Her gasp of surprise—she had no air now—was a sick invitation for Leto to take
more.

He wouldn’t.

He reined in his screaming, aching needs. Breathing hard, he was needy in ways he
hadn’t felt in years and years. Maybe ever. He was stretched to the point of breaking
and couldn’t afford that luxury.

His turmoil was nothing compared to the fury on Nynn’s face. The streak of blood on
her forehead and the streak of his blood on her mouth. Her hair a spiked tangle. Her
tunic ruched over one hip, which bared a sliver of golden skin. She looked as disheveled
as if she’d just been fucked by a group of men.

He would do murder before he let that disgusting scenario come to pass.

In truth, she’d only been kissed by one Dragon King. By him.

Leto growled low in his throat. He had to get this done before his imagination and
his lust got the better of his plan. Because he did have a plan. Successful Cage warriors
took bars of steel and bent them into the weapons needed for victory. Nynn was just
such a weapon. He still needed to bend her to fit his needs, for
both
of them to thrive.

Through it all, Kilgore had stood transfixed. The greed in the man’s wild eyes was
as obvious as the bulge between his legs.

“Take down your pants,” Leto told him.

Kilgore blinked.

Nynn shrieked, fought harder, and managed to land a solid punch against Leto’s temple.
He ground out a curse and hauled her up to her knees. After trapping her manacled
wrists at the base of her spine, he caught the back of her collar with his free hand.
She was as trapped as when he’d pinned her against the floor. Only now, her mouth
was level with Kilgore’s pathetic erection.

Pants down, the man was stroking himself.

“What the
fuck
is this?”

“This is your punishment, neophyte,” Leto said against her cheek. “He would’ve taken
you. You’d have been awake, or tranquilized, or even asleep, but you never would have
left this room before some part of him was in some part of you.”

“You ripped up my letter.” Again, her voice was flavored with emotions Leto couldn’t
parse. Fear, yes. Disgust. Pleading? She even backed up, as if being closer to him
would protect her—even though he was the one holding her immobile. “What else do you
want from me?”

“I want you to continue your negotiations with this human slime.”

She squeaked when he gave her collar a shake.

“Tell me, Nynn,” he said. “You planned more than asking him to deliver a letter. You
planned to escape. And you were going to give this man favors in return.”

Her hiss held the sinister potential of a gas pipe and an open flame. “Are you not
hearing me? Every single day? I have to save my son!”

“Two steps closer, Kilgore.”

“Hurt her,” came the man’s lust-roughened voice. “Fight her again.”

“Shut up, unless you think I couldn’t hack through
any
part of you with her practice knife.”

Kilgore only moaned as he worked himself. “Yes, sir.”

Nynn’s eyes were watering. The back of her head was pressed against Leto’s breastplate.
Her gaze never left Kilgore’s throbbing little cock. The man’s expression was one
of absolute, entranced pleasure.