Caged Warrior Read Online Free

his thighs. His scarred lip twitched. Eyes narrowed to
     slits that glittered like deep brown topaz. A heavy pulse ticked at his temples, where
     his serpent tattoo stopped short. Branded by the Asters.
    Disgusting.
    “I didn’t say you could speak.” It was no idle repetition. It was a prelude to violence.
    Audrey smoothed back wet hair and met his gaze. “If the Old Man wants me here, he
     won’t appreciate seeing me harmed. I bet you can’t risk that, warrior .” She sneered the word. A warrior fights to be free, not to grovel in the dark. “So
     hit me, throw me back in that cage, or get me some Dragon-damned food.”
    ♦   ♦   ♦
    During combat, Leto would’ve laid waste to the insulting bitch. He’d have crushed
     her ribs before she uttered another infuriating syllable. With the collars temporarily
     disengaged, his speed and reflexes—the hallmark of Clan Garnis—would’ve made that
     possible.
    He couldn’t remember the last time a neophyte figured out how their relationship worked.
     Symbiosis. If this woman failed to entertain, Leto would share the blame. To lose
     face left him seething.
    He checked his thoughts. There was always something to be done when a neophyte got
     lippy—no matter how clever. No matter how fucking sexy.
    Leto shut down that thought even faster. Just as he tried to forget the healed surgical
     incisions on her lustrous golden skin. A violation.
    “Get in your cage.”
    “Go to hell.”
    “You can stay out here, but I won’t feed you.”
    Defiance dazzled from her bright eyes.
    This time Leto was able to hide his renewed surprise that she knew how to pick her
     battles. The Tigony made no secret of their disgust for the Cages. They were theTricksters of the Five Clans, more eager to wheedle than fight. They could storm fire
     from the heavens, yet few tapped into that potential. They simply talked too much.
    “Get in your cage, Nynn of Clan Tigony. Or I’ll throw you in.”
    “What happened to letting me have free rein of this . . . cave?”
    “That was before you insulted me.”
    She shot a disdainful glance toward his crotch. “Hit a little too close to home?”
    He pulled until her ear nestled against his mouth. She smelled delicious now. Fresh.
     Scrubbed clean of the sweet, unnatural scent of decay that the lab refugees always
     carried. He never let his mind journey to Dr. Aster’s lab. Imagination was best left
     to techniques in fighting. But he couldn’t deny what his senses told him.
    Whatever happened there was simply wrong .
    Leto used his grip to shove her into the four-foot-square iron cage. He hated being
     unprepared against any opponent. No one of her rank wound up in the Cages. The Tigony were practically royalty,
     ever since their days as patron gods to the Greeks and Romans. Combat was saved for
     the poorest, most desperate Dragon Kings. Or for those like Leto who’d fought since
     early manhood to perpetuate their bloodlines. But to train the Honorable Giva’s cousin?
    He threw the lock and knelt. “Your identity won’t make a difference when we train.
     What will make a difference is your gift from the Dragon. And I sure as hell know
     what that is.”
    “My gift never manifested!”
    “Save your breath.”
    He said it flatly, because he’d seen proof of her destructive powers: Dr. Aster’s
     lab, with its roof obliterated. Her lie was obvious.
    Unless . . . unless she had been subjected to the same procedure as his sister Pell.
     Leto had survived the disorientation and fear of his first manifestation, but his
     sister had not. Vigorous powers required the intervention of a telepath. Sometimes
     the process of installing unconscious restraints went badly. Very badly.
    Leto shook off his foreboding. Time to get food. She would respond to food.
    He walked away without explanation, unsurprised when her shouts followed.
    He’d been confident in what to expect when first entering her training cell. Now,
     he knew what she