Lindsey Piper - Caged Warrior

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.