Dreams of a Dark Warrior

see why some of the prisoners were going crazy in here. Their third roomie wasn’t the only prisoner who banged his head against the wall. Time passed at an agonizingly slow pace. With no shower available, she’d been eyeing the sink for a whore’s bath. Her side had fully healed, but her clothes were stiff with dried blood.
    Each second, Regin’s anger toward Chase escalated, her temper redlining toward
D EFCON R EGIN
.
    In the old language, Natalya said, “I recalled something I’d heard about you. Aren’t you supposed to have a kiss that drugs men?”
    “So everyone says.” Regin didn’t actually … know. Aidan had sworn her lips were like a drug. And with each reincarnation, her kiss had triggered his memories. As soon as their lips touched, his past assailed him.
    But the “drugging kiss” rep sounded cool, so Regin had run with it.
    Natalya said, “You could kiss Fegley or Chase, then command him to free us!”
    What was so bad? They were equally unappealing.
    Regin’s ears twitched. “Speak of one of the devils.” Fegley’s cheap orthopedic lifts were squeaking closer.
    When the warden appeared outside their cell, he ogled Regin’s bared midriff. Gross. Whenever men leered at her, Regin tended to leer back. She canted her head on the floor, turning it one way, then the other. “Ifinally understand what a dickie-do is. Your gut
does
stick out more than your dickie do.”
    Natalya guffawed, slapping a hand over her mouth.
    His beady eyes slitted, and he walloped his nightstick against the glass directly beside Regin’s head. Which made Roomie Number Three’s tempo speed up. She clenched her teeth, wrestling with her temper.
    “Your time’s running out, Valkyrie.” Fegley gave another wallop before he squeaked off.
    Regin narrowed her eyes, watching him till he was out of sight. “One day I’m going to make that little piggy cry all the way home.” With a sigh, she rose and crossed to the boy.
    The only thing that broke up this prison monotony was studying their curious fellow inmate, trying to pinpoint what species he belonged to. So far, she’d determined only three things about him.
    Since he didn’t fit a single species’ traits definitively, he must be a hybrid or halfling of some sort.
    His gray athletic T-shirt indicated that he played football for the Harley High Tigers.
    And he sure was cute.
    He was over six feet tall, his build corded with muscle. His eyes were hazel with blue flecks, his brown hair thick and tousled.
    The first time Regin had awkwardly patted his banging head to calm him, the fey had raised her brows. To which Regin had eloquently replied, “Oh, eat me.”
    That night Natalya had wiped the blood from his hair, then covered him with her jacket when he’d slept. After that, the two of them had started to view him askind of a pet rock, almost like they were the de facto guardians of their very own sea monkey.
    Kneeling before him, Regin murmured, “Don’t let that Fegley worm get to you.” Still staring ahead, the kid slowed his banging. “There’s a good … male of indeterminate species.” Over her shoulder, Regin said, “We’ve got to come up with a name for him.”
    “Why don’t we call him Tiger?” Natalya suggested.
    “For his football team? Good idea.”
    “Not quite.” At Regin’s quirked brow, Natalya admitted, “He has a trouser tiger. A waistband topper. He might have no other bodily functions, but last night when he slept, he must’ve been dreaming
really hard
about cheerleaders.”
    “Nuh-uh.”
    Natalya raised her right hand. “Hand to goddess.”
    “Speaking of big cats. Cougar, he’s a
zygote.
”
    “Can I help if I notice him? I haven’t been around available males in eons.”
    “How’s that?”
    “I was taken hostage at the Battle of Seven Hills.”
    Regin snapped her fingers. “I remember now.” She’d been pissed to miss that epic conflict between the fey and the centaurs. Nothing hurt Regin’s feelings like not being invited to war. “We’d heard you died there.”
    Natalya shook her head. “Good old King Volós planned to ransom me, but failed to realize that I was ignoble and no one would pay. It took me a decade to escape.”
    “How’d you do it?”
    “His nephew—and royal heir—took me out of mycell to make me his concubine. I acted receptive, right up until I ganked him with my poisonous claws, then decapitated him.” Natalya said this dispassionately, but her eyes flickered. Normally her