And The Winner Is…

"I think you better give up now," she said in response to him, "I wouldn't want to hurt your pretty face. I have a mate, but from what I heard you haven't gotten yours yet. It would be such a pity if you don't get one because I pummel your face in-"

The change in Archer's expression was what she had been waiting for. The moment he went from cocky to angry signaled the impending arrival of the turning point. The crazed look in Archer's eye was right on cue.

The wolf closed the distance between them in a fraction of a second. He wound his right hand back and curled it into a fist. Using all of his strength, he was going to punch Safira square in the face. It would break her nose and her jaw easily.

But that didn't happen. Safira moved her feet swiftly into a stance. She crouched down just a little and held both hands together, receiving Archer's punch in the palm of her hands.