Swiftcurrent Creek nuevo

He struggled to gain breath and she rolled them—and suddenly her claws were upon him and he was pinned beneath her. Dark mirth glared up to her, and he chose to save his words now. Clearly, he had done exactly as she had wished—played into her hand.

So while claws dug to his shoulders, droplets of blood forming, the dark wolf would twist violently in a sweep, looking to knock her from him and roll back to his paws, a lunge made as teeth made to graze toward her, looking to grip and still her.