When I glance at them, I find that none of them, not one, is nervy or anxious. Now that the fight’s started they’ve stopped chatting, but there’s no tension in their face, no chewing on nails. There’s nothing to suggest they’re even close to feeling the level of anxiety that I am. What do they know that I don’t?
Something has me turning my attention back to the fight. I’m in time to see Mack is shaking Shane off like he isn’t even there, and Shane’s eyes widening in surprise that this challenge isn’t already over.
Shane has fought and won against much bigger guys than Mack in half the time, and yet, this time, he hasn’t. I read the confusion in his eyes as he tries to work out why his size and his strength aren’t having the same effect on Mack, a small-town shifter who’s nearly half his
