ELRETH

She grunted when he bore her to the floor, his massive weight pounding the air from her lungs before she was able to twist out from underneath him.

Her chest burned where he'd gotten her.

Her head hummed with the impact of hitting the floor.

And as they began to roll, she knew she had only one choice. It was her father's words, spoken in training, that echoed in her head.

"…A bigger, stronger opponent will always have an advantage in a tussle, using their weight and size to pin you. Do everything in your power to avoid grappling—stay on your feet and use your superior speed to wear them down—"

He'd trained her for her entire life. He'd known that would be her strategy, which was why he'd focused all his attention on getting her under his paws, gripped in his teeth, so he could get her down quickly. Because he also knew she could outrun him—and tire him out.

She cursed herself for not thinking more quickly.

"—but should you find yourself there, your only hope is to use their weight against them." He'd taught her then, at twelve years old, the move that she'd since used against her brother, Aaryn, and every arrogant male that decided he could take out the Princess because she was female. Aaryn had even practiced with her until she could do it in beast form as well.

As they rolled and his weight came to bear, she wrenched one shoulder out from under him, pinned one of his hind legs between hers, and twisted—pulling in with her claws extended, forcing his leg to bend against the joint.

A deep huff of protest broke from his massive throat, though he didn't lift the leg. It was only enough to stop him bracing with the limb, but it allowed her to keep his weight moving—rolling completely over until he was splayed on his back.

Taken off guard, Reth tried to twist, to stop her getting a grip on his neck when she lunged. But she'd misjudged his sheer size.

Her back claws digging into the wood of the stage, she strained, pressing hard to keep him down and off balance—but between her lunge, and his twist, they were both still moving.

His claws on her back dug in and she screamed in rage, closing her teeth on his neck as her stomach lifted as they tumbled into freefall over the edge of the stage.

*****

AARYN

To Aaryn's eyes, everything slowed down as the gathered crowd shrieked and pushed back in the same split-second Aaryn grabbed the Queen and pulled her behind him, ducking below the level of the stage as the two huge bodies careened over the edge, landing in the dirt at Aaryn's feet with such a thud, and a crunch, that the earth trembled.

Aaryn snarled, "NO!" fearful Elreth's spine had been snapped.

He was sure the roars tearing from both of them, the terrifying, snapping snarls that rose out of the dust shrouding them, could be heard all the way to the edges of the WildWood.

Sick with dread at the sight of the blood smearing the edge of the stage, and no doubt dampening the dirt where they fought, Aaryn was forced to turn around, to push the Queen back to give the fighters space, holding her arms to stop her rushing between the two people she loved most in the world as they tried to kill each other.

"You can't!" he screamed at her. "You have to let them finish this!"

The Queen shook with stifled tears, her eyes shining, fixed over Aaryn's shoulder on Elreth and her father. "They're going to kill each other!" she shrieked, then she gasped and froze, hands over her mouth.

He went still, the Queen still in his grip. He was terrified to turn back and see what had happened. Who had won.

The Queen's eyes went wide over her hands.

"Are they… did she…" Aaryn swallowed. "Is she alive?"

The Queen's eyes snapped to him, horror on her face. "Yes," she breathed. "She is."

As Aaryn slumped with relief and let the Queen go, he took a single breath to brace himself to turn and see the carnage, to be brave for Elreth's sake. Then the Queen shoved past him, calling for her mate and sobbing.

"Submit!" the voice, harsh and guttural, barely recognizable, snarled and Aaryn froze. "I have your throat. Submit!"

Whipping around, Aaryn's mouth dropped open with shock to find the Queen on her knees in the dirt a few feet away from the fighters—who were both back in human form. Reth, sprawled on his back, and Elreth, bloodied and scraped, but straddling her father's chest, both hands clawed at his throat, her eyes still the golden shine of her Lion.

"Submit," she growled again. "Do not make me tear it out!"

Reth, both massive fists clamped around her wrists, twisted in the dirt, his Lion's call puttering in his chest.

"Reth! Please! Please!" the Queen shrieked. "Submit! Please!"

He arched his back and tore at her hands one more time, obviously trying to unseat Elreth and regain control. But even as she snarled and bared her teeth, something in his body caught and he groaned.

Neither of them moved beyond their heaving chests, their eyes locked in a combat no less fierce than what had just played out between their bodies.

"Dad," Elreth murmured, pleading, but fierce. "Please don't make me kill you."

Two breaths later, with a mighty groan of grief that echoed in his chest and vibrated the ground, Reth slumped and broke eye contact, letting his head fall to the side.