a bouquet of bruises
#11
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As he’d anticipated, Adelle easily blocked his lethargic swat. He didn’t stop moving, however, his pale feet patting down the grass of the ring as he circled. His expression was more wolfish than it usually was, his dog blood melting away as the beginnings of a fighter came through. It was a rare sort of transformation for the normally haughty, childish prince, but it made him look serious and focused, his dark lips drawing back lightly to show the tip of a fang.

Her leg came out and knocked against his own, but as his balance was destroyed, the male fell toward her and clawed at her with both hands this time, determined to get his blow in.



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