Page 167 of The Demon's Pet

Power surged through me. I wasn’t an omega anymore. I could fight as much as I wanted.

No one was here telling me I needed to be weak.

I lunged toward Sam and, when within range, spun and aimed a back kick at his midsection. He’d been preparing for a roundhouse with both arms up protecting his face, so my foot caught him in the middle in a speedy but not-too-damaging kick.

I followed with a spinning hook, and he ducked this time. Then he took advantage of me needing to bring my leg back down to grab it and trap it against his middle.

I just grinned at him. Using all my strength, I jumped off my ground leg and, using his hold, spun my free leg up toward his head.

He let me go to dodge the hit, and I stumbled backward, barely able to jerk my legs down and recover in time.

It felt fucking good to be able to do that. I wasn’t sure I’d even had the strength before.

I lunged at Sam with a punch, enjoying this now, and though I could tell he was at times taking it easy, I knew I was giving him more of a challenge than he’d thought.

He would duck, then give me a strike to dodge. I would dodge, then attack back. We went through kicks, punches, and then groundwork as Sam swept my leg and took me down to the grass, sitting on top of me.

I thrust my hips up hard and reversed the mount, staring down at him with a grin.

He grabbed my arm and shoulder and rolled me over again. I slammed a fist toward his groin, making him dodge back long enough for me to pull my knees up and kick him back with both legs.

As we both rolled to our feet, the fighting only intensified. All the skills I’d practiced were suddenly doable with more speed, more precision. I couldn’t help but smile as the speed of our moves increased. It was probably hard to tell from an outside angle who was doing what.

Finally, Sam dodged back, breathing heavily, and held up a hand. “I’m satisfied on the sparring.”

“You should be,” Griffin said. “Shame on you, trying to hit a girl.”

“Let me try,” Mor said, cracking his knuckles together.

Sam looked at me and raised an eyebrow, and I nodded.

“I should warn you that Mor is the top brawler on our team,” Sam said. “I’m the executioner, but Mor takes care of the fights that don’t need to end in death. Our strongest fighter.”

Mor grinned and stepped forward until we were face to face. Gods, his face was even prettier up close, those silver-blue eyes looking almost like mirrors.

Mor’s eyes flicked to mine, and I saw a sneer in his gaze as he looked me over. Clearly, he was still mad at me for getting Sam hurt by Zarris.

But I was just happy to be fighting. I couldn’t imagine killing, but I loved fighting a lot.

Mor stepped into a fighting stance and gestured for me to come forward. As I did, attacking with a right-left combo that usually worked, Mor easily raised a hand to block one strike, then the other. Then I saw a fist coming straight at my face, faster than I could stop it.

WHAM!

I flew backward, pain exploding through my face, rolling over the grass.

Holy shit, Mor was good.

Mor came to stand over me with folded arms. “Not so good now, are you, demon wolf? If that’s even what you are.”

I pushed myself up, narrowing my eyes. “I just won’t hold back with you.”

But right before I could attack Mor, a blur struck him from the side, removing him from my vision and taking him to the ground.

As the two men rolled, I made out a red sweatshirt and blond hair. Griffin.

Griffin had pinned Mor beneath him and raised a fist. Mor punched him off of him and pushed up to stand.

They faced each other, chests heaving.

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