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But when they did, when they hesitated, it showed me their greatest weakness.

I lunged forward with a wave of lightweight agility, watching his body, observing his reactions as I threw my first punch.

He swatted it away, his robust arms having no problem deterring my force.

I punched again; he blocked me again.

Leaving his midsection wide open.

Too easy. Too predictable.

My fist swung through the opening in his center and contacted my opponent’s face with a satisfyingthud. I ignored the pain that thundered through my knuckles, no doubt from the splitting skin on my bare hands. The scabs hadn’t had time to heal since the last time they had split open. They never did.

The male before me hissed, baring his sharp fae teeth at me while blood trickled from his nose.

Males.They always had such uncontrollable tempers.

“Again!” Lord shouted from the far wall of the underground den.

Fuck.He did not sound pleased. I obeyed instantly, unable to rest for a single second before my opponent advanced, swinging his dagger toward my torso.

This guy was temperamentalandcocky.

Ihatedcocky.

I inhaled sharply before launching myself forward, narrowly avoiding his silver blade, before I pulled my own from my waist and grazed it across his chest, leaving a trail of blood behind.

One quick glance at Lord in the shadows told me he was still not impressed.

He rarely was.

Think, Huntyr. Focus. You should have taken him down by now.

I stepped backward while my opponent recovered, giving myself a second to collect my thoughts. The den was dark and offered minimal lighting, but I could still see the way my opponent gripped his blade tightly. Each finger flexed around the hilt as if letting go would spell his death. As if the blade would save him from failure.

Thatwas his weakness. He relied too heavily on his weapon and likely had weaker combat skills without it.

“Stop dancing around,” Lord ordered, his voice booming off the rock walls around us. “You’re supposed to be killing each other, not playing games.”

He was right.

Lord’s voice was enough to send a chill down my spine, raise the hair on my arms.

It distracted me just enough so that when I busied myself with blocking the fist that suddenly flew toward my face, I did not notice the second punch ready to hook into my ribs.

I doubled over and staggered backward, gasping for breath.

Fuck.

I sucked in air once, twice, then straightened myself, ignoring the screaming in my ribs.

Swiftly and without a sound, I ducked and rolled forward, tumbling toward my opponent's feet. He stood still, ready for me, but he was surprised enough at my advance to leave his legs unguarded.

The second I landed in a crouched position, I swept my foot beneath him, sending him falling to his back with his weapon scattering. Before he could climb back to his feet, I jumped on top of him, pinning his shoulders with my weight while I straddled his torso. He writhed beneath me, scrambling for an escape, but with my weight centered and my knees planted firmly on the ground, he wasn’t going anywhere.

My blade found its way to his neck, hovering above the delicate skin.

“You’re dead,” I growled through clenched teeth. My breath came out in pants, exhaustion beginning to take over my limbs as I held him there, waiting for Lord’s order to end the fight.