She had bitten him.
bittenHis foe was a woman, but with the nature of a feral cat.
Maximilian considered the mark on his forearm in the better light inside his tent. There was a crescent left by her teeth that was rapidly darkening from red to purple. It had a mate on the other side of his arm. She had sunk her teeth into his flesh just above the wrist, past the cuff of his glove, and he had to wonder whether the mark would endure forever. ’Twas the sole place he was not protected and she had found it in the blink of an eye.
She had bitten hard, as if her intent was to tear his hand from his body or rip free a chunk of his flesh.
Yet she had not been mad or terrified. There had been a shrewdness in her gaze, one he associated with cool planning. She was fierce but not savage. Cunning i
