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  Tor opened his mouth to speak, but Sky put his fingers up to stop him, placing them on Tor’s lips. “I understand. I don’t expect anything like love to happen between us, so don’t worry about it. We’re mates. Partners in the cage. That’s all.”

  Just partners? If that was so, why did Tor’s heart hurt to hear those words spoken?

  Tor stared at him for a moment. Sky was a trained sex slave, sold to an owner and told to mate with a werewolf. Love didn’t figure into it, not for Sky. “Get dressed. We need to spar.” He sat on the edge of the bed, grabbed his boots, and pulled them on. Then he went to the intercom and called for an escort.

  Sky retrieved his burka and slipped into it. He pulled the veil over his face but couldn’t hide the black eye. He frowned and joined Tor at the door.

  “Yeah. Send a guard now.” Tor glanced over Sky, then leaned against the door. “Should be here in a few minutes.” Black eye or not, Sky was still beautiful.

  “Okay.” Sky nodded. “Tor?”

  “Yeah?”

  Sky opened his mouth but shut it. He swallowed and tried again. “Is anything wrong?”

  Just then the guard arrived, and Tor never answered.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Again they passed through halls and rode the elevators up into the building to the practice cage level. Their heavily armed escorts reminded Sky they were slaves. Valuable, to be sure, but slaves to be ordered and bought and sold.

  They arrived at the large doors. Tor led the way through them and into the huge room. He paused for a moment, searching for Stoltz or Marrack, Sky wasn’t sure for which man.

  “There they are,” Tor said and headed toward one of the cages.

  Sky followed close on Tor’s heels, head down, his burka flowing around him, his chains singing as he moved. He knew heads turned and conversations stopped as he passed, but he couldn’t look up. Not what a slave would do. Or stare openly at anyone, especially not a free man. But he tried to peek from beneath his lashes at Tor and the men who stood in a small cluster at the steps of the third cage on the row.

  Marrack, Stoltz, and Ashland. Sky sighed. Familiar faces. They knew him, and he knew them.

  “About time you got out of bed,” Ashland teased Tor.

  “We were working on Sky guiding me while I was shifted. Figured why waste time here for that.” Tor shrugged.

  “I did it!” Sky added, looking up for the first time, eager to be seen as Tor’s partner by the men.

  “What the hell?” Ashland growled. “What happened to his eye, Tor?”

  Marrack groaned. “Fuck. I paid a lot for him, Tor.”

  Tor growled again, his hands clenching into fists.

  Sky spoke up. “It was my fault. I insisted on learning to fight so I could help in the cage.”

  Ashland and the others stared at him, and the big wolf burst into laughter. “Really? You thought you could fight in the cage? Against a were?”

  Marrack shook his head. “You’re lucky that black eye is all Tor gave you. You’re far too valuable to fight and be killed. No fighting,” he ordered.

  Stoltz came up and lifted Sky’s chin to get a better look at the bruise. “It’s nothing. It’ll be gone in a week, and you’ll have learned a valuable lesson, Sky.”

  Sky blinked at the man who spoke so softly to him with such kindness in his voice. “I did. I mean, learn a lesson.”

  “Good.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small jar. “This will help with the healing, take out some of the bruising.” He opened it and smeared a little on Sky’s skin around his eye with his fingertip.

  Low growling from behind Sky let him know Tor wasn’t happy about Stoltz touching him, but another growl, this one from Ashland, puzzled him. He peered around Stoltz and stared at Ashland.

  The big were couldn’t take his eyes off Stoltz. Well, the man was his owner, after all. Maybe there was something more between them than just master and slave.

  “Thanks.” Sky smiled and stepped back to Tor’s side.

  Tor frowned, then gave Stoltz a sharp nod. “Thanks.” He cuffed Sky on the side of the head. “The pup had to learn sometime. Fighting is left to the weres, not the mates.”

  Stoltz grinned. “I don’t know, Tor. With as plucky a little mate as Sky, there’s no telling what he’ll bring to the cage.” He slapped Tor on the back. “Now let’s get started. We need to get you into shape fast.”

  “I thought we’d lift some weights first,” Ashland said, jerking his head to the side of the room where several sets of weights were racked next to benches. “Start building back some of that muscle mass you’ve lost.”

  The two went to the nearest bench, and Tor straddled it. Ashland fiddled with the weights, and they started lifting. Sky settled into a chair, gathering his burka around him, and watched.

  Marrack and Stoltz sat in chairs away from him, talking about strategy and fights, and Sky let himself drift as he enjoyed the way Tor’s muscles flexed and straightened. The man was incredibly built, and he couldn’t imagine Tor any more pumped up.

  Sweat glistened on Tor’s body, and Sky wanted nothing more than to lick it off, starting with Tor’s neck and working his way over his nipples. He’d move down the trail of hair leading to Tor’s navel, in and out of that, then on to the blond nest of curls and the thick, long cock.

  Sky shifted in his chair, glad his burka hid his erection.

  Ashland sniffed the air, then laughed. “So, little one, your mate’s scent got you hot and bothered,” he called to Sky.

  Sky’s face burned, but he grinned and nodded. “All the time,” he called back. He wrapped his arms around his knees as he drew them up, resting his slippered feet on the edge of the chair.

  “Get back to spotting me, fool,” Tor barked at the other were. Ashland laughed.

  “And you’re no better.” Ashland ran his hand down Tor’s belly. “Your prick is as stiff as a rod. Lifting weights never did that to me.” He laughed again as Tor pushed his hand off and growled at him.

  “It’s not the lifting. It’s thinking of Sky riding my cock on this bench.” Tor groaned as Ashland added another twenty pounds to the bar.

  “Well, if you can keep a stiff dick and lift weights at the same time, you’re going to be just fine in the cage.” Ashland winked at Sky.

  Sky ducked his head, smiling, knowing just his presence turned Tor on. It made him feel so good inside that for a moment, he’d forgotten why he was there.

  “I want Tor’s full attention on his challenger, not on his mate,” Marrack barked out. “Enough weights. Get into the cage.”

  Tor put the weight bar back on the holder and then sat up. He wiped the sweat from his face with a towel Ashland tossed him. Then he stood and came over to Sky. He reached down, grabbed Sky by the arms, and pulled him up into a lusty kiss. With a hard smack on Sky’s ass, he gave Sky the towel, let him go, and strode to the cage.

  Sky shuddered, his silvers tinkling, and sank back to the chair with a sigh.

  Ashland laughed and followed Tor to the door, ducked under, and the two weres squared off.

  Sky curled up into the chair again to watch, knowing when they were finished, he’d have to join them in the cage. He brought the towel to his face and inhaled Tor’s scent.

  Despite what the others thought, Sky knew he’d do whatever he could to help Tor win. Even if he had to get hurt to do it.

  »»•««

  By the time the final bell rang, signaling the end of the rounds, both men were bloody. Ashland hadn’t given Tor a break but kept on him, pressing hard with each move and hit, each punch, each kick.

  Out of the cage they were friends, but in the cage all that dropped away and they were competitors. A fierce glow in their eyes and the way they moved told Sky that much. He knew Tor was right. There would be no way he could stand up to a were of Tor’s size in a fight. They were just too big, too strong, too ruthless. Everything he wasn’t or could never be.

  He’d watched as each man
had kicked, punched, and grappled in the cage. Neither man shifted; that would come later, and Sky would have to guide Tor through.

  “Who will guide Ashland?” he turned and asked Stoltz.

  For a moment, the trainer’s face clouded, and he shrugged. “I do.”

  “He can hear you?” Sky scratched his chin. “I thought only mates could hear each other.”

  Stoltz looked at the big red-headed werewolf. “Sometimes trainers can also make that connection.” The toe of his boot scraped across the cement floor, then came to a rest.

  Marrack didn’t say anything, and Sky wasn’t sure if the man had even been listening. Sky had a feeling there was more to Stoltz and Ashland than just trainer and wolf, slave and master. He didn’t say more but just nodded and turned back to watching the fight.

  Breathing hard, sweating as if they’d been in a steam bath, the two men came out of the cage and grabbed the water bottles each trainer handed them. Tor downed his, his throat working as he drank, and he poured the rest over his head, shook like a dog. Drops of water mixed with sweat flew out, some hitting Sky.

  Ashland drank, with Stoltz beside him wiping the sweat off his body with a towel. “Not too much, Ash.”

  The were nodded and handed him back the bottle without speaking.

  “Ten minutes, then back to the cage. Sky, you’ll be in there with them.” Marrack clicked the chronometer he held to mark the time. “I have to see about the schedules. Be back before the next round. Five rounds, three minutes each.” Then he stood and strode off to the front offices.

  The two weres dropped onto chairs and wiped off the sweat with towels as Stoltz kneeled and spoke to them about their performances. Sky barely listened. So many things were going around in his mind.

  He was so confused.

  He’d made a deal with Marrack for his freedom, and so far, he’d kept his end of the bargain. Tor was training and would fight again.

  But he’d grown close to Tor—beyond just the sex—he’d mated with Tor. Mated. His life and Tor’s were now intertwined. He cared for Tor, more than he’d ever cared for anyone in his short life. Not that he’d ever had the chance to know any of the other boys for long. They came and went so fast, and he only saw them for brief times during the day, not enough to latch on to someone, not like the boys who lived together did.

  He and Tor lived together. He shared Tor’s bed. His food. His affections.

  Sky wasn’t sure if Tor would ever love him as he’d loved Jin, but Sky’d tried so hard to get Tor to fall for him. And that was wrong of him. He saw that now. Playing with Tor’s heart only to crush him when he got his freedom and walked out of the complex—a free man—had been wrong.

  But his freedom? It was all he’d dreamed of for years. All the nights he’d lain alone on his mat, thinking of what he’d do and where he’d go if he were free. Now it all seemed…wrong. And he didn’t know why.

  “Let’s go, Sky.” Tor cuffed him on the back of the head. It was gentle, not meant to hurt. Sky looked up into Tor’s face as his mate smiled down at him with an indulgent look, as if there were nothing Sky could ask of him that he’d refuse.

  Sky nodded and stood. With a few quick gestures, he freed himself of the burka and, naked, joined Tor and Ashland in the cage. He took his place behind Tor, grabbed on to the chain links, and gave Stoltz a nod of readiness.

  The bell rang, and the weres faced off.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sky’s blood pounded in his head as he watched the two men. Tor paced back and forth in front of him while Ashland maneuvered around the cage to get a better spot. Neither gave ground, and in the end Ashland made the first move, coming in to rain a few body blows on Tor.

  Tor took them and hammered at Ashland, the blows slapping flesh as Sky jerked back. His grip on the links kept him from moving. That wasn’t an option, and he knew he had to stay where he was for Tor to protect him.

  The men retreated, bouncing around the cage on their toes, bobbing and weaving like strange birds, looking for any opening that might bring an advantage over the other.

  Ashland dodged Tor’s swing and came in with a roundhouse kick, but Tor grabbed his extended leg, twisted, and brought them to the floor. They wrestled for the best grip, with Tor on top. With each move, Ashland tried to position himself closer to Sky, on the inside, with Tor on the outer edge, but Tor held his ground.

  The bell rang.

  “Point to Tor!” Stoltz yelled. Ashland shot him a deadly look, but Stoltz just shrugged.

  Tor came back to Sky, breathing hard but composed. Sky picked up the water bottle sitting on the edge of the cage and gave it to Tor, who drank and handed it back.

  “Are you okay?” Tor asked.

  Sky nodded. “I’m not the one getting hit. You?”

  The bell rang again, and Tor left his side without answering to meet Ashland in the center of the cage. This time, fists pounded, landing on sides, heads, chests, some drawing blood, but the men didn’t stop. They just kept fighting.

  Ashland came in low, grabbed Tor by the thigh, and dumped him backward, then fell on him in an effort to pin him. Tor refused to let his arm be twisted, and he used his powerful legs to flip over, breaking the hold Ashland had on him.

  They scrambled to their feet and attacked again with kicks and fists.

  Tor’s fists were bloody. So were Ashland’s. Sky’s hands clung so tightly to the links he was afraid he’d never be able to let loose of them. Trying to stay alert to the fight yet ready for any sign of a change, and watching Tor being hurt pushed Sky’s heart into a hard race as all the spit in his mouth vanished.

  No, it wasn’t harder on him than on Tor, but he’d never felt like this, ever. He hurt when Tor hurt; each blow or twist or kick knocked the air out of Sky’s chest. And with every move Tor made to best Ashland, Sky’s heart soared.

  The bell rang again.

  “Round to Ashland!” Stoltz shouted.

  The men moved back to their places in the cage. Stoltz gave Ashland a towel, and they spoke, too low for Sky to hear. Tor came back to him, and he handed Tor the towel to wipe the sweat off.

  “Three more rounds,” Sky breathed. He wasn’t sure his heart would last that long.

  “Okay.”

  “Ashland always moves to the left,” Sky told his mate. “He favors it.”

  “Got that, did you?” Tor grinned and gave Sky a gentle cuff on his shoulder. “Good.”

  “When are you going to change?” Sky asked, eager to prove himself to Tor and the others.

  “Not until the next round. I want to wear Ash down a bit first.”

  “But if he changes first?”

  “Then I change. Man is no match against a wolf.” Tor shook his head.

  Sky bit his bottom lip. “Tor, is the bet still on?”

  “What bet?” Tor tossed the towel to the floor.

  “I have to suck the winner’s cock.”

  Tor growled. “Yeah. No. Hell, I don’t know, but don’t worry about it, because Ash isn’t going to win.” A new gleam sparkled in Tor’s blue eyes, and Sky’s stomach did a slow roll as his cock hardened.

  “I don’t mind,” he assured Tor. He’d do whatever it took to uphold Tor’s honor.

  “I do.” Tor ran his fingers over Sky’s cheek, then flicked Sky’s nose with his finger. It stung, but Sky grinned as if Tor had kissed him.

  The bell rang.

  Tor turned away and headed back into the center, and Sky’s heart went with him.

  This time the men engaged quickly, no holding back, in a fury of fists and kicks. Blood streamed from Ashland’s nose, and Tor had a cut over his eye, but neither paid any attention to their wounds.

  Only two rounds to go, and Sky’s heartbeat counted out the seconds left.

  The air vibrated.

  “Tor, he’s changing!” Sky shouted.

  Ashland shifted, with Tor just a second or two behind him, but it was all he needed to make his move, and he charged across the cage at Tor.<
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  Tor’s wolf flattened against the floor as Ashland leaped over him. He turned and chased, but Ashland had gotten into Tor’s territory, closer to Sky than he’d been in any fight before. Sky’s breath hitched, and he shrank back against the fencing, away from the rival wolf.

  Ashland sniffed the air, and he howled. His eyes, beautiful as they were, grew dark and dangerous. For the first time, Sky realized that his own scent was driving Ashland into a mating frenzy.

  Tor’s wolf snarled and lunged, throwing himself between them, teeth snapping in the air, and somehow he managed to get a grip on Ashland’s leg. The wolf yelped, and Tor let him go, but there was a lot of ground between Tor and Sky, and Ashland was in the middle of it.

  “Get back into position!” Sky shouted, using the voice he’d used in their quarters.

  Tor scrambled back, spun around, and dared Ashland to advance. Ashland limped, his leg bloody, tracking red paw prints on the cement. He held his ground, pacing back and forth but each time moving just a hair closer.

  Stoltz, on the outside of the cage, called out, “Ash, change!”

  With a whine, Ash obeyed.

  “Fight’s over!” Stoltz declared.

  Sky moved forward and grabbed Tor’s ruff. “Change, now.”

  Tor changed, and his wounds disappeared.

  “What the fuck!” Ashland turned to Stoltz and glared.

  “You’re hurt. You needed to change and heal. This is just a sparring match, and I won’t lose my best sparring partner over a stupid bet for a blowjob.” Stoltz’s gaze darkened.

  Sky nodded. “I agree. You guys are supposed to be helping me guide Tor as a wolf, but I can’t do that this way.” He wrapped his arms around Tor. “There has to be a better way to do this.”

  “Unless you want to wait until I’m in the cage and the real fight is on, I can’t think of one. This is how Jin and I did it.” Tor frowned. “It’s how everyone does it.”

  Sky rubbed his head, thinking, then looked up at Stoltz. The trainer was looking over Ashland, checking his arms and legs, his torso, as Ashland stood obediently and let him. As Stoltz ran his hands over Ashland’s legs, the were’s cock stiffened. Stoltz had to have noticed. It was impossible to miss that long prick, but Stoltz just gave Ashland a slap on his ass and pointed to the chairs. “Get something to drink and cool down. I want to talk to Sky.”