Fighting Fate

Fights and French kisses

I flew into the ring, transforming into my wolf as I slid under the ropes and straight into the champion's space. He was a pitch-black wolf with startling blue eyes, we circled each other slowly, then I flew at him, he stepped to the left and bit my side. I spun around my teeth sunk into his shoulder. It was a never-ending faced past dance. We couldn't outdo each other. As soon as one of us gained an advantage others would find one of their own.

We swirled around the ring, a mindblowing blur of movement and adrenaline. My wolf was tiring, I needed to transform. Apparently, the Champion had the exact same idea. We became human as if on cue. He pulled me underneath him by my sneakered feet and locked me down by my forearms. His hair was the same pitch black as his wolf's fur and his eyes were the same sparkling blue. We stared at each other, panting. I arched toward him slowly and crushed my lips to his. He responded immediately, his lips moved perfectly against mine. His hands came up to my head, fingers entangling in my hair. It was warm and fast. So fast, he didn't notice my hand becoming a paw, only falling away with a grunt when my claws sunk into his gut.

As soon as he was on the floor I flew at him, swiping once again at his stomach. Then I stepped away, the Champion stayed on the floor. I watched as he hit the ground three times. A cheer so loud it made the ground shake a little, rose up from around us. Every wolf in the building ended up watching us fight. I wished suddenly the challenge hadn't been so hectic. We drew too much attention.

Then I turned and held my hand out for the ex-champion. For a moment I was afraid he wouldn't take it. Fighting, even if it was friendly, often led to grudges. But his hand clasped mine and I pulled him up. The boy kept his grasp on my hand, then he hoisted it up and another cheer rose vibrant and deafening around us. Our hands dropped and he turned to me, looking me up and down.

"You're good."

I grinned, clutching at my side, "You too."

Suddenly hands constricted around my waist and the champion froze.

"What the hell is going on here?"

I sighed, "Ben."

He kept his arm around me from behind, his chest on my back. But his eyes were trained on the champion.

"Dante," his voice was a cold, dangerous calm, "why is Carrie bleeding?"

I wiggled angrily, "I challenged him Ben, get off me."

Dante had straightened in respect, but he was smirking slightly, "have I done something wrong alpha?"

"Carrie doesn't fight Dante."

I growled, "you don't speak for me Ben, I can do whatever the hell I like."

The boys ignored me completely, their gazes locked.

"Could've fooled me. She's excellent."

Ben growled and his grip on my waist tightened.

"She doesn't fight, Dante. "

I growled, struggling.

"Alpha, she could be an asset to an army."

Ben's grip became so tight it hurt.

"Not an option, this won't be happening again."

I snarled, my fist flew up into Ben's nose and smiled as I felt cartilage crunch. I ripped Ben's arms off of me and stepped away.

"She is actually here, and she isn't something you can control. "

Both boys watched me, blood dripping down to Ben's lip. I shook my head angrily and glanced at Dante.