Page 167 of Hunt Me

Lykaon pushed downward, and David’s arm trembled under the immense pressure. Lykaon pushed inch by inch until his fangs pierced the flesh above David’s collarbone.

“Get him off you,” Matilda whispered, gripping the railing.

Lykaon bit down and tore away a chunk of David’s shoulder with a triumphant howl. He realized his premature victory was short-lived when David smiled.

The jagged flesh began knitting itself together, right before his eyes.

Lykaon jerked backward, but David caught him before he could escape. One hand closed around Lykaon’s throat while the other seized his foreleg. David rolled, taking Lykaon with him, and hurled him across the ring. He’d barely regained his footing before David descended upon him.

Lykaon twisted, and David’s claws missed his throat, tearing through his flank instead, opening four deep gashes from his ribs to his hips. Blood slicked the white fur, staining the dirt crimson.

Lykaon retaliated instantly, closing his jaws around David’s forearm. The crack of the bone reverberated through the arena. Lykaon shook his head violently, wrenching David’s arm until another sickening crack was heard.

David repeatedly drove his knee into Lykaon’s ribs until the alpha retreated. David stumbled backward with his arm hanging uselessly at his side.

Lykaon’s gaze zeroed in on the limp arm, and his muzzle twitched into a predatory grin.

“Move, David!” Matilda shouted.

But it was too late.

Lykaon leapt, and at the final moment, David’s broken arm snapped back into place. His hand shot forward, catching Lykaon by the throat.

The arena went silent, prompting many onlookers to rise from their seats.

“My gods,” Ezra whispered when David lifted Lykaon off the ground.

Lykaon thrashed wildly, kicking at David, tearing bloody scratches across his abdomen. David snarled and slammed the prince into the ground.

The ground trembled, and when Lykaon tried to rise, David seized him again and drove him down with shocking force until the wolf’s spine cracked.

The citizens of Moonshire covered their mouths, crossed themselves, and paled at the sight of their prince being mutilated before their eyes.

David dragged him across the dirt by his throat before hurling him into the stone boundary surrounding the ring. Lykaon struck it hard enough to fracture the stone.

For a moment, he remained there unmoving. The official readied to call the match when the white wolf staggered upright. Blood poured from his mouth, and his legs buckled beneath his weight. But despite his injury, Lykaon refused to give up.

He charged, meeting David in the center.

It was a blur of claws and teeth, frightening growls and yelps of pain. Every time Lykaon struck, David’s wounds healed in an instant. Blood soaked the earth until Matilda could no longer tell whose belonged to whom.

Lykaon came to a realization. He could hurt David, but he couldn’t hurt him fast enough.

David caught his jaws, claws digging into the prince’s muzzle as he forced the wolf’s mouth apart.

Lykaon shifted back into his human form to avoid his jaw being ripped off.

Blood freely poured from his mouth, while David remained transformed, with one clawed hand closing around the prince’s throat.

“Yield,” the official shouted. “Prince Lykaon, do you yield?”

Lykaon looked up at David, then toward the thousands watching. “I will never yield to an abomination.”

“David!” the official warned.

Lykaon smiled through bloodied teeth. “You will never be respected as their Alpha. You are a monster. Look at them. They shield their eyes from you.”

David stilled, and his gaze lifted into the stands. Some wolves stared in horror, others had risen from their seats, and some… were bowing.