45. Peaceful Fighting

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The courtyard was brightly lit enough for the two of us to spar. When we walked onto the grass, Cyrus's eyes flashed with concern as he saw me in the light.

"Who did this?!" He asked quickly and walked over to me, placing his hand on my cheek and turning my face.

"It was my fault, I lunged first at Sydney." I replied honestly and he shook his head.

"She'll be punished for this." He said sternly, "We shouldn't train tonight, you need to rest."

"No stop, I want to."

"You need rest." He said sternly and I examined his face.

On his beautiful face held scars and scratches that I hadn't seen clearly in his office. His rolled up sleeves were lightly stained with red blood and a wave of guilt flooded in.

This was all my fault.

*but Enzo was right, Cyrus did look better than him* my wolf snickered and I hid my smile.

"I said I'm fine." I replied in the same tone and lifted my fingers to his top button. My fingers trembled and Cyrus' eyebrows raised in curiosity, I unbutton the top button and made my way down his torso.

I knew he was getting excited. I could tell.
My wolf could tell. We observed how tense his muscles became as my fingers touched his warm skin.

When I got to the bottom button, Cyrus grabbed my palm quickly and his silver grey eyes pierced into me with warning.

We engaged in intense eye contact, fighting each other for dominance.

"Are you scared that I might beat you?" I spoke up and he grinned. He released my palm and tore off his black shirt and tossed it onto the ground. He took steps backwards, I followed until we were directly in the centre.

"You'd never beat me." He said smirking and licked his lips.

"Wanna bet?" I pressed on,  knowing full well that Cyrus was stronger, taller and quicker than I was.

He smirked and took a step forward towards me.


Cyrus and I engaged in a gentle spar at first. It began with throwing punches at him, but carefully avoiding his face, leaving no contact.

Then it drastically changed to screaming and lunging at him in anger.

He blocked every single one of my jabs and it angered my wolf, forcing her to force me to loosen my control.

I stretched my arm out to land a punch in his stomach but he dodged it quickly. I groaned as he pushed me back hard and I tripped and hit the floor.

I looked up at him, huffing and puffing, while he looked like he just did ten push ups.

He placed his arm out for me and I cocked my head to the side. In hesitation, I took his palm and lifted myself up.

To my surprise but I had expected it, he pushed me down onto the hard courtyard floor and placed his forearm against my neck, making it harder for me to breathe.

"Never trust that your opponent gives a fuck about you." He said as he held me there. I growled in frustration and used my free arm and punch him in the stomach. He looked taken aback and removed his arm from my neck and I got up quickly, tore off my jacket, leaving me in tights and a sports bra, ready for combat.

We were moving in unison, our bodies gravitating to each other. It was painful, it made us both angry, but at the same time, it was peaceful.

My wolf loved every moment of it. She loved the way his body moved, and we loved way his muscles seemed to want to bulge out of his skin. She remembered how he held us, how his tongue felt against our skin...

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