Page 94

“Begin.” Silverstone’s command rings out.

Before I can even take a step, Bart charges me, a wall of solid muscle. I barely manage to slip out of the way, dipping below his meaty arms and putting a few feet between us, only for him to come at me again. He gives me no time to breathe, to think, all I can do is stay out of reach. Good thing I’ve faced plenty of men his size in the circuit. I really hate that I’m grateful Mr. Peters forced me into that underground fighting ring.

My opponent grows more and more agitated the longer I evade his attack. He probably thought he’d take me on brute force alone. As I dodge him again, I land a kick to the back of his knee, and he drops to the floor. I use my enhanced speed to about-face and jump onto his back, locking my forearm around his neck.

A guttural growl rattles against my arm, the only warning I have before he shifts. I yelp as I drop from his towering six-feet-five human form to land on the back of an almost eight-foot-tall beast. His neck is so wide, it breaks my choke hold. The thick fur on his neck is the only thing that prevents me from falling on my ass. Grasping the thick strands, I find my seat, only to have him turn and snap massive jaws at me.

His gleaming white teeth are wicked sharp and will hurt like a bitch.

I squeeze my legs as hard as I can, hoping to break a rib or two, but Bart kicks his back legs up, flipping me over the top of his head. There are only two choices—hang on and be his next snack, or let go and try to get out of the way. I release the coarse strands of his pelt. Air shocks out of me as I hit the mat. I roll, but I’m not fast enough.

Bart’s teeth dig into my shoulder, scrapping along my flesh, rather than digging in and pinning me in place.

{Fight back!}

Skin splits and blood wells. Don’t think about it. I fake left, roll right when Bart lunges, and kick to my feet, landing in a squat. Bart comes at me again. I fake to the right, hoping he’ll go left, and when he does, I kick my foot up to meet his face with so much force that bones crunch. The shifter catapults across the mat, and his bones already start to mend.

Blood slicks down my arm. The wound has already stitched itself back together, but it was deeper than I thought. I clench my fists, one bloody and one clean, and charge at the shifter before he can get his footing. I land on top of him, punching and screaming, wishing I had magic because this is pointless.

Bart launches me off his back again, but this time I land on my feet. He turns into my fist, though it doesn’t slow him down. If anything, his anger is making him faster. The beast swipes its paw, claws slashing my thigh. My workout pants split like the flesh beneath them. Copper fills the air and warm blood soaks my pants. I dodge another swipe, but Bart comes faster and faster.

It’s impossible to miss the next. Claws slash across my face. They’re shallow wounds, but the head bleeds so much, rivulets of red drip into my eyes, stinging like a motherfucker.

I swipe at my eyes, only to see Bart a millisecond before both of his paws slam into my chest. I fall back hard, ribs breaking under the weight of the bear crashing down on top of me.

One pierces my lung.

Agony erupts inside of me. Goddess above, not again.

{Fight. Don’t give up.}

Before he can bite me, I surge up, catching a mouthful of his neck and savagely biting down. My teeth aren’t nearly as sharp, but pain drives me to bite down harder. I shake my head, relishing in the shifter’s roar of anger as its hide rips.

Bart stomps his paw on my chest so hard my mouth is forced open.

He’s nearly crushed my heart.

I’m going to die.

Not a real death—he needs silver for that—but a death all the same.

Bart’s teeth clamp around my neck, forcing my head to lull to the side as he savagely snaps through the muscles and bones.

I’m so tired of getting my ass kicked.

I glare at the ceiling, none too happy about once again getting my ass handed to me. The warmth from the healer’s touch is different from the warmth I felt when Rowan healed me, but I write it off as the healer being a mage and him being a shifter. Bart shredded skin and muscle, and while I could have recovered on my own, I’m more than happy to have the extra assistance.

“All right, dear. You’re all patched up.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s my job, no need to thank me.” The healer pats my arm, gathers her things, and leaves.

I stand up with a groan, accepting a helping hand from Professor Silverstone. Most of the other students have left, but I spot Eli lingering by the door.

“All better?”

“I guess?” I shrug and look at the ranking board. After losing the fight with Bart, I’ve been knocked from first to second place. I won’t have to move dorm rooms until I drop from the top ten.