The Monster I Made

ENA

he ball of the foot, and drive the

eavy thud that echoes across the packed gym. The air inside the River Ash Boxing Club smell

lves in workout gear are shouting, their v

for-pound rising boxer of my generation in River Ash. In the ri

anding outside my c

her arms folded over her black uniform, her storm-gray eyes narrowed in open dissatisfaction.

e cuts cleanly through the noise of the crowd. "If you can't break his guard

ack out of Cole's reach, keeping my

the ring is our monthly Control Assessment. Living peacefully among humans means keeping the wolf locked down, and there is no better test of

hguard. He's got forty pounds of muscle on me and a bruised ego from losing the regional qua

your chin up, Cole.

ld, heavy overhand right

f his right glove bulge as his claws start shifting inside the padding. Foul. If he cuts me with sh

wait for

is glove brush my braided hair, and step dead inside

ver, followed half a heartbeat later by a short,

and all two hundred pounds of him hit the canvas flat

erupts i

f calls, waving the match of

orner and duck through the ropes. I didn't let my wolf slip once. My heart rate is alrea

't even offer m

oo attached to the rules of that ring, Morena. A boxer fights for a ten-count. An enforcer of River Ash fights

ache. "You told me the assessment wa

e," she corrects w

dusk border run along the souther

best friend's completely human mother, delivering a basket of peaches from the market. Watching my mother soften her posture

the heavy door into the back equipment all

d and a pair of bandage scissors in the other. He's twenty-one, six feet of broad shoulders in a faded blue

slides them off, and carefully snips the sweat-soaked cotton wraps from my bruised knuckles. His large, rough fingers bru

he presses the cold ice pack over my knuckles, his thumb lingering again

gaze dropping to my mouth for a frac

e out to the southern creek b

the western ridge, dragging deep shadows ac

my jacket. My knuckles still throb from Cole's chin, and two rounds of heavy sparring have lef

I'm sitting front row," Bass says, leaning against his rusted tailgat

sion," I say, a small laugh escaping me as I turn to face him. "The wh

bout you is invisible

yes is gone, replaced by something quiet and intense that mak