Wolf's Soul (23 page)

“Marisol is going to practice with Viola is what it looks like. She can"t do this. I have to stop her.” He quickly sent Marisol a message through telepathy.

“Put the damn sword back, Mari.”

Marisol met his gaze.
“I’ve accepted Viola’s challenge.”

“Just put the sword down. Mari.”
Damn it. She blocked him off then focused her attention on the sword in her hand.

“Bro, maybe she wants to prove she"s worth your blood.” Ty who flanked him on the other side shoved him playfully.

“She doesn"t have to prove herself to me or anyone. She"s not like us. If Viola kills Marisol, she"ll stay dead—forever.”

“Do you think Viola would do that?”

“What do you think?” He shrugged off Zambro"s arm then ran to get Marisol before she stepped beyond the white line on the floor. “Marisol!” he yelled.

Viola and Marisol turned to look at him. While Marisol looked glumly, Viola"s grin reached her ears. His ex-fiancée blew him a kiss then walked to stand on the practice floor.

“Callum, let her fight. Prove that she deserves to keep the sword.”

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Callum didn"t know who it was that said it, but he wanted to punch the son of a bitch.

“Yeah, man! If she is really Youven"s descendant, let her prove it!”

“Come on! Fight!”

“Fight! Fight!” The crowd chanted.

When he reached Marisol"s side, he saw that her eyes were big with fear. He could see her knuckles had gone white from gripping the sword she picked. “Baby, give me the sword. Let"s go.”

His heart sank. Marisol shook her head and took a step back. “If I leave, you will end up carrying my shame, Callum. I want your clan to respect me. I"ll make Youven"s family proud. I"ll make you and your brothers proud.”

“No. Baby, this is not a game. You saw how we practiced. We try to make contact, to incapacitate the opponent. It"s because we"ll heal. She has five lives.

You have only one.”

“And you have only one, Callum. Were you planning on going back up to fight Atos for me?”

“We"ll talk. Come on. Let"s go.”

“I"m not leaving. You need practice. Well, I do, too.”

“I"ll practice with you. But I won"t let you fight Viola.”

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“And let your fiancée laugh at me. No.” She kicked off her blue and white K-Swiss shoes then bent down to remove her ankle high socks.

Damn. She’s going to fight barefoot. Is she out of her mind? She needs armor as it is.

Marisol turned her back on him. He tried to stop her but once again Zambro grabbed his arm.

“Let her, Bro. We"ll stop them when it"s time. She"s right. Earning the clans respect on her own is better than earning it through me.”

As soon as Marisol started walking towards Viola, the crowd quieted once again. Callum fisted his hands.
Damn it, baby. You better not get hurt.

Viola wearing tight black leather shorts, red halter leather top embossing her size D breasts, and black knee high boots emphasizing her long legs, could make any man drool. She looked as lithe as a leopard. While his baby wore faded hip huggers and a pink tank top showing the flatness of her stomach that he licked until she squealed looked simple, sensual, and beautiful. Damn, he loved her so much it hurt.

The women stood facing each other. Marisol held the sword on her side, its tip pointing down while Viola held the sword in front of her. He"d seen Viola practice many times. She nearly maimed a soldier once. Viola was one of the best female fighters of the clan. Marisol had her first kill only days ago and he wasn"t sure how strong she was, how long she could stand before she gets tired.

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Viola began circling Marisol who remained on her spot with her feet shoulder-wide apart.

“Teach the woman a lesson, Viola! Her kind killed my husband.”

“Make her bleed!”

“Come on Marisol. You can beat her.”

Callum recognized Endy"s voice. At least Marisol had a fan in the crowd.

Viola attacked striking downward with an obvious intent of cutting Marisol in half. However, Marisol launched a preemptive strike. She was quick on her feet and parried with the sword close to her. Her foot placement kept her balance. Mark taught her well.

Marisol engaged with care, which Callum was so happy to see. She was able to maintain control and stayed focus. She used her best defense of sidestepping whenever Viola was on the attack not allowing an opening for the winning blow.

Callum watched Marisol change her hold on her sword. The swords position runs from the bottom of her torso to the top of her head. Suitable for any skill level, Marisol used the middle position to respond to Viola"s attack with reasonable speed. When she began striking, Callum felt a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. His baby would be okay.

The sound of clashing metals echoed in the room. Grunts and screams from the crowd added to the noise. Marisol"s tank top turned dark pink from her sweat.

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Her hair became undone and clung to her wet shoulders and forehead. She didn"t show any sign of tiredness. Marisol extended her sword a comfortable distance away from her body with the tip toward Viola"s throat.

Ah, so Marisol knew how to taunt, to put her opponent
on point.

The action might intimidate an inexperienced fighter, not Viola. Callum saw Viola"s mouth tightened before she began an offensive attack. Unsettled, Marisol parried.

When the two swords locked together, Viola surprised Marisol with a punch on the face. The crowd cheered. Callum took a step forward, but Zambro"s arm blocked him from going any father.

“Not yet, Callum. She"s doing great.”

Blood trickled down the side of Marisol"s mouth. She didn"t release her hold on the sword. She kept her stance.

Viola leered then released another blow. Marisol avoided the hit but not fast enough. Blood quickly painted her right arm.

Roaring shout of approval and thunderous clap shook the floor.

“Come on, baby. You could do this,” Callum whispered. He didn"t dare send Marisol a message through telepathy. It would distract her.

“You talk to yourself now, too, Callum?”

“What?”

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“Never mind.”

Blood dripped from Marisol"s elbow. If she made a mistake of stepping on the sticky red fluid, she"d lose her balance and Viola could win.

Callum"s body felt like a tightly wound string. He wanted to end the fucking
practice.

“We need to stop the fight right now, Zambro.”

“And Marisol will hate you if you do. She has it in her to win, Callum. Even if she loses, she"ll walk out of here with her head held high. Finishing a fight is a win in itself, brother.”

Zambro was right. He"d witnessed Marisol"s stubbornness. That personality would fuel her to keep fighting.

Marisol lessened her blocks. She was avoiding Viola"s brute force. She stepped out of line of Viola"s attack then pushed the sword off to the side giving Marisol an opening for an offensive move.

Take advantage, baby.

“Drop your sword before I start playing tick tack toe on your skin.”

Marisol gritted her teeth. Her cut hurt so bad she wanted to cry. She would never give Viola the satisfaction of seeing her as weak. She would show her that Callum didn"t stand on rotten wood that could collapse anytime by giving his 248

word to her father. She was not a liability, baggage, problem or mistake. She could defend herself if necessary. Her father didn"t spend years training her so she could quit at a mere sight of a small cut.

“FYI, Viola. Surrender is the word I don"t believe in.” She smiled mustering calmness confidence, and poise. Viola cut her, but the three deciding factors to win a fight remained deep inside her. Of course, she was a bit nervous and frightened. Who wouldn"t be in a situation like this? But just as Callum had said, they were not signs of weakness. He was right. Those emotions help her strategy become more effective.

And perhaps to believe in herself. Feeling a surge of energy, she went for an offensive attack, thrusting her sword as if she was born doing it. Viola didn"t have a choice but to block her and take quick steps back.

Her smiled widened. Cool warriors tend to make others wary, or even unsettled. Viola looked liked one.

Marisol swung the sword, slicing the air. The sound was barely a whisper in contrast to the gasp Viola made when Marisol"s sword made contact with her upper chest slicing the leather halter top.

The sight of blood didn"t deter Marisol from slowing her attack. Heart banging like crazy against her chest, she took advantage of Viola"s momentary 249

shock and thrust. This time she stabbed Viola"s arm holding her sword. Viola"s arm went limp and dropped her sword.

Marisol felt more aggressive now. Even after Viola"s sword clanged on the floor she attacked. She made a slicing motion meant to cut Viola"s throat but she stopped right when the blade touched the woman"s skin. A drop of blood trickled on Viola"s neck.

The crowd cheered, whistled, and then they began chanting her name.

“You lose,” Marisol whispered.

Anger flashed in Viola"s eyes. “This time. Next time we meet, your head will roll on the ground.”

“And I am sure you won"t stop until that happens?”

“Got that right, bitch. If you want me to spare you, leave Callum alone. He is mine. Anyone who tries to steal him away from me will regret the day she was born.”

“I didn"t steal him away from you, Viola. You lost him a long time ago. You had your chance but you blew it. Accept it. ” Because you cheated on him, she would have added but she was tired. And catty remarks would only take her as far as her spit would land. “Besides that, Callum is not mine, Viola. He promised my dad to keep me safe not to keep
me
. Big difference.”

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Viola gave her a hostile glare. Her facial expression showed her emotions.

Rage was one of them. “We are not over, human.”

Great. Another enemy she had to watch out for from now on. “I look forward to our next meeting.”

Viola left without picking up the sword she dropped on the floor.

It’s over.
Loud whistling and applause brought her attention back to the crowd. It was incredible that she didn"t hear them at all while fighting with Viola.

The smile on their faces, though, was what surprised her most.
What, do they like me
now? She hoped so. For Callum’s sake.

With her adrenaline quickly leaving her system, Marisol felt so tired and achy. Her wound hurt so badly and she couldn"t seem to move. Suddenly the sword weighed like a ton. This must be how it felt like after fighting a lion or a bear. God, she spent so much of her energy in that fight it was surprising she could still stand.

She pointed the tip of the sword on the floor and watched the blood from her arm travel the length of it and down the floor. Marisol focused her gaze where the blood pooled.

Warm hands cupped her face and lifted her head up. “Callum.” Callum"s eyes were hard and piercing. Lordy. He was mad. “You have no idea how happy I am to see—”

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Before Marisol could finish her sentence, Callum gave her a quick kiss. “Is it so hard to listen to me?” he asked, his voice sounded like he was in pain.

“No, but your girlfriend challenged me. I couldn"t just—oww!” Pain shot up her shoulder when she tried to lift her arm.

“I"m sorry, love. You got hit. Hang on.” He wrapped his shirt on her wound.

“How"s your lip.”

Marisol touched her upper lip with her tongue. “Fat.” She groaned from the pain as Callum tightened the shirt around her arm.

“You okay?”

“I am now. Can you take me home now?”

Callum responded with another feather kiss.

Marisol dropped her sword and gave her weight into him. If each time she practiced she would get a kiss like this, heck, she wouldn"t mind coming here.

“Baby, right now my apartment is your home. We need to take care of your arm and we need to talk.”

“You"re mad at me.”

“Mad no. Afraid yes. You put me through hell by fighting Viola. She"s a seasoned fighter and knows how to protect her head and heart. Her cuts will heal in no time. While you, you need stitches.”

“I beat her.”

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“Yes, you did. I am so proud of you. Could you make me proud without shortening my lifespan? I won"t be surprised if I look in the mirror and see my hair has turned grey.”

“I"m sorry.”

“Kiss me again and I"ll forgive you.”

Marisol smiled, wrapped her fingers at the back of Callum"s neck and pulled him down for a kiss that promised something wonderful to come.

Leaving her mouth wet and hungry for more, Callum pressed his lips on her forehead, hugged her tight and whispered, “You gave me purpose in life, love. I"ll be lost without you. Don"t you dare disobey me again.”