Page 39 of Harley & Her Ferals

I struggle to stay focused, ready for the fight.

“No promises.” Feral raises his fists.

I grin, raising mine. “Rise up…”

“…And no regrets.”

With his flashing eyes, wicked snarl, and large eyes with smoky eyeshadow, Feral truly does look like my Devil Alpha.

Also sinful as fuck.

Feral’s gaze settles on the flower behind my ear. He raises a questioning eyebrow.

Then Feral darts forward, reaching for the tulip. I sidestep, and he misses.

My pulse races.

The savage glee of letting out my emotions in these sparring sessions rushes through me.

I can see the same response in Feral as well.

His primal nature is taking over.

I can never beat him like this.

But then, I don’t want to. His power is awe-inspiring.

Being hunted by Feral is thrilling. And this time, I am going to surrender to being caught.

But not without a proper fight.

This is how it would have been in ancient times.

“Riv gave me this tulip.” I snatch the flower from my hair and hold it between us like a dagger. “It’s to represent that we’re both his soulmates.” Feral’s eyes brighten with love. “Come and get it…if you can.”

Feral moves unpredictably close with a palm strike. I duck underneath it, sweeping my leg in a kick to his knee.

My soul sings with the first solid connection of the fight.

Feral is stronger than me, but I’m faster than any other MMA fighter.

It’s why we’re such a powerful team.

Feral only grunts, however, and doesn’t fall.

I dance around him, teasing the petals of the flower across his shoulders and chest to distract him.

He doesn’t want to damage the flower that River gave us, struggling to strike at me again.

It’s like having a flower shield.

I laugh at Feral’s growl of frustration.

When I circle him, however, he grabs me by the hair and yanks me closer.

I yowl, as I’m hauled into a clinch.

Grappling with Feral, I realize that I’ve fucked myself because I don’t want to break River’s gift either.

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