I watch through Matthan’s eyes as he stares down the small woman before him. His hackles are raised as his blonde paws claw into the grass beneath them. He crouches slightly, baring his teeth as a growl rumbles deep from his belly, yet our opponent remains unfazed. Mathan’s trying to act tough, but it’s mostly bravado. I feel his nerves and I’m just as nervous as he is.
I have far more faith in Matthan’s skills than my own, but that’s during fighting with other wolves. We’ve never taken on an irshiust before. Yildiz of the Delegation stands before us, her long black hair tied up on top of her head in a bun, her otherworldly floral scent wafting on the breeze as the gold glitter embedded in her mocha skin glints and twinkles under the morning sun. Her bright golden eyes stare at us as thou
