Devious Claws

Chapter Eighteen

"Holy shit! Get him, Cindy!"

The world was going a tad bit too fast around me. It blended slightly, spun and skipped. The surrounding faces of the men who'd one after one all neared to watch during the last hour contorted and moved. Some laughed - some looked sympathetic.

"Angle your fist, she-wolf! Harder!"

I'd taken multiple blows during the last hour, all from Gore. He'd slapped my face, pushed my stomach and bended my arm - all while continuously urging me to keep trying to attack him. Despite him yelling instructions it seemed each attack only made me weaker and him more eager. Not once had I managed to utter a blow.

I felt my nose.

Bleeding, but not broken yet.

The circle around us was impenetrable, not that I'd even dare to try and fight my way through it. Where would I go?

I tried to steady my breathing and lowered myself. Though I tried not to show it, my confidence was severely faltering. I hadn't even eaten breakfast, and the thought of going after the mountain of a man waiting for me at the other end of the ring made me feel even more weak.

Despite this I took sprain and began running - for about the hundredth time.

My fist hit the side of his head, but he quickly grabbed my wrist before I could manage to pull it back. I cried out, my body immediately surrendering.

"What the hell is going on here?"

I knew that voice. And apparently, so did Gore - I was immediately let go.

Eros stood in an opening among the men, not completely unlike Moses parting the Red Sea. His livid gaze was first on me, taking in my (what I assumed to be pretty sorry) state - then it moved to Gore.

It was pretty satisfying seeing Gore's mighty form deflate a bit when targeted by Eros. I felt the pent up frustration rise and took advantage of the distraction.

My fist hit his crooked nose straight on. The cracking sound it produced was incredibly satisfying. But then the pain hit my knuckles and I quickly drew back.

Some men yelled out, and some laughed. Gore grabbed his nose, narrowing his eyes at me. For a second I thought he would kill me. But then his face softened a bit, and he nodded. "Fine. Now you can have breakfast."

"How dare you?" Eros seethed from behind me. He'd neared and stood like my shadow, my much scarier shadow. The sounds from the men immediately seized.

"You told me to train her, your highness," Gore retorted but his previously thundering voice seemed to have grown far softer.

"Don't you know who she is?" Eros voice was venomous. I could tell his body was rigid, more than ready to pounce on Gore.

"Your companion," I quickly cut him off, turning to him. I locked my gaze in his, trying to will him to shut up. My hand went to his cheek, cupping it, and I tried to ignore the scrapes on my knuckles. I mustered my most erotic smile. "Don't worry, I'll still be pretty, your highness."

"She'll heal fast, my king," Gore added on, followed by some tentative hums of agreement from the men. As if to prove it, he reached out to me, but Eros moved quicker. Suddenly I was pulled closely to his side, where I felt his growl tremble through my ribs. He held me by the waist and reached a threatening hand out towards Gore.

"Don't fucking touch her. Don't you know not to meddle with a king's possessions?"

"Of course, your highness."

"You're done for the day."

"Oh thank God," Luke murmured from beside us.

"Train this one instead," Eros added, grabbing Luke and pushing him forward. "And all you men, get back to your stations."