Page 59 of Pistols & Peonies

Her eyes narrow, heat flashing through them as she arches, deliberately brushing against me. “What now?” she spits. “You gonna make me beg?”

The crowd is chanting, but it’s just background noise.

I lower my face until our noses brush. “Tap out,” I growl.

“Make me,” she grits out, bucking her hips.

I shift my grip, one hand still locking down her wrists, the other sliding to her waist. I squeeze hard and she sucks in a sharp gasp.

I know her type. She’ll fight until there’s nothing left, then demand another round.

So I wait.

I let her strain, let her twist and burn through what strength she has left. Eventually, I feel it– the falter in her resistance, the tremor in her thighs as her energy wanes.

I lean in, lips close to her ear. “Tap out, mate.”

She bares her teeth. “Fuck you.”

A smile tugs at my mouth. “Not here.”

With one final squeeze, she goes slack, the fight draining from her body. Though she keeps right on glaring at me, defiant to the end.

“Fine, you win,” she spits, the words a curse.

A ripple of satisfaction rolls through me, my wolf relishing the victory.

I release Violet, push to my feet, and offer her a hand. She glares at it for a beat before taking it and letting me haul her upright. The crowd explodes, the sound crashing over us in a tidal wave. For a moment, we just stand there, both of us sweaty and breathless.

“Never thought I’d see the day,” someone hollers, followed by a sharp whistle. I track the voice to Drake– recently promoted deputy warden of the TTC. He grins, tipping his head toward me. “You’re a lucky man, Kane.”

I grunt, wiping dried blood from my nose. “Luck’s got nothing to do with it.”

Violet huffs and turns to stalk for the exit, shouldering through the crowd of admirers with a look that dares anyone to get in her way. I snag my things off the mat and follow, tugging my boots back on while barely breaking stride.

In the hall, she stops short and pivots, folding her arms across her chest. She’s still breathing hard, hair a mess, eyes bright.

“That was fun,” she admits, voice hoarse. “So, what now? You gonna drag me back to the Tower and lock me up?”

I shake my head, unable to fight the grin tugging at my lips. “I don’t think you’d stay put, even if I tried to.”

She laughs, surprised, and for a split second I glimpse the girl she must’ve been growing up– wild, uncontainable, burning too bright for anyone to handle. Somewhere along the way, she was taught that was a flaw.

It isn’t.

It’s what makes her powerful. Magnetic. Mine.

“Come on, mate,” I growl, jerking my chin in command.

Her smile fades. She folds her arms tighter, defensive. “I said I’d leave with you, not do that stupid job.”

I exhale slowly. “I know.”

Victory flashes across her face.

I turn and start down the hall, and she quickly falls into step beside me, close enough that our arms brush. For the first time, it doesn’t feel like there’s miles of distance between us. Our bond vibrates with a strange new current– brighter, sharper, already hungry for the next battle.

The noise of the gym fades behind us as we move down the corridor together, adrenaline still riding high. I steer us toward the next hall, focused on getting her out of here, but she slows, hooking a thumb over her shoulder.