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.
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
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.
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
“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.
“This way,” he said. “The Old Man wants to meet you before the matches begin.”
Although the guards technically encircled them, Leto strode through the maze of hallways, sloping corridors, and stairwells as if he’d been born to the task. Very nearly. Every glance she shot toward his profile revealed the same locked-down expression. Stoic, calm, but with a concealed, buzzing energy. Maybe it was the way his eyes never stopped moving, or the way he occasionally slid his jaw from side to side. From Leto, it was practically fidgeting.
She anticipated the moment they would stand together in the Cage and she would see when the collars deactivated. His powers returned to him. Sexual release had never looked so enticing. She wanted to see it, then see it again—a unexpected reward for surviving each match.
“Leto,” came a voice.
Beneath wrapped leather, the hair on Nynn’s forearms tried to stand on end. Those on her nape did. Before their assembly of large men and formidable women, all deadly warriors, stood warped and stooped Old Man Aster. He supported his weight with a cane, although there wasn’t much to support. Skeletons had more bulk and more color. He was a corpse with a jester’s wide smile.
“And Nynn,” he continued. “Welcome. I anticipate what you have to show us this evening.”
“I hope to earn your respect, sir.”
He angled a bizarre look toward Leto. “Interesting.”
That seemed . . . anticlimactic. He added an extra layer of strange to the moment by turning to greet other combatants. Was he that detached?
She caught up with Leto’s long strides. “How many times did you say that the Old Man had picked me out? That he had some big plan for me?”
They were admitted to a weapons room, full to brimming with every manner of metal and steal and wood. “Enough for you to believe it,” he said, selecting his favorite. The mace.
“And that was all we get? A sneer and a noncommittal comment? He should’ve offered some kind of congratulations.”
“He didn’t sneer.” From a wall of swords and daggers, he selected three before turning to face her. “And why congratulate a warrior who has yet to win? There’s no value in praise offered before it’s earned.”
“Is that why you never congratulate me?”
Leto’s eyes glimmered, as black and shining as the accents on his armor. They narrowed. Dark brows drew together. Only a person who was really looking for those clues would find them. “If we win, we’ll be congratulating each other. You remember what I said about how warriors are rewarded, don’t you?”
“Sex.”
“Yes.”
“Winner’s choice.”
“Yes,” he said again, his intensity as strong as any touch.
Nynn stepped to within inches of his armored masculine beauty. She lifted her hands and cupped his skull, tracing her thumbs along his temples. The head and the tail of the serpent. “And what happens if we both win?
