Bear in the Rough: Bear Shifter Romance (Broken Hill Bears Book 1) by Ariana Hawkes Page B
Authors: Ariana Hawkes
Ads: Link
to the stage the fearless, the inimitable, Troy!”
There were whistles and screams again, and also a deeper sound, like a boo or a groan, Freya registered, as another dark shape emerged from a different tunnel and somersaulted into the ring. Freya gasped at the sight of the second fighter. He was equal in height and build to the first guy, but he didn’t share his good looks. He had a broad, high forehead, under which sat pudgy features, as if they’d been compressed by the weight of that great forehead. His lips and cheeks were fleshy, and his eyes like long slits. Like an evil baby , she thought distractedly. He pounded one fist into the opposite palm, making a loud slapping sound and he paced around the ring, face contorted with fury as he announced what he was going to do to his enemy. There seemed to be something malevolent in the way he carried himself, and she felt repelled by him, and immediately decided to root for the other guy.
“They say I’m a dirty fighter,” he was saying. “And I’m telling you: they got that right! This ain’t no WWF pussy shit. This is real fighting, and there are no rules. Troy is going to take down any motherfucker who crosses him, and make him as sorry as shit that he dared face me as an opponent!”
This time, there were more cheers than boos. It was a convincing speech, and he looked so menacing as he delivered it that Freya shuddered at the thought that he might flatten the other guy. Troy and Xander came together in the middle of the ring and bumped fists. Freya watched Troy drive his fist right back so his knuckles bumped hard against Xander’s. But Xander evidently met him with equal power as a grimace of pain flashed across his face.
“Gentlemen, please take your corners,” the compère shouted, his voice so weak and reedy in comparison to theirs. Xander and Troy hulked over to opposite corners of the ring and the starting bell rang. Both men hurtled into the middle of the ring and Xander threw a punch that connected with Troy’s cheekbone, and Troy swiftly retaliated by aiming a kick at his ribcage.
The fighting was brutal. Like nothing Freya had seen before. It was like the wrestling she’d seen on TV, but also boxing, with some martial arts maneuvers thrown in too. There didn’t seem to be many rules, outside of the bells going to mark the start and end of each round. The object seemed to be to flatten your opponent, any way you knew how. She wasn’t an expert at watching fighting by any means, but, as Troy had boasted, he seemed to succeed by fighting dirty, aiming well below the belt, going for jabs in the kidneys, kicks in the face. Xander seemed like a more measured fighter, relying on his huge bulk and strength to pummel Troy with his fists, throw him down with his body weight, and pin him in choke holds. He also seemed to be thinking three steps ahead, always anticipating his rival’s next move.
The air was full of grunts and the merciless pounding of flesh on flesh and bone on bone. The audience was very vocal too, whistling, cheering and hissing as one vicious blow after another was struck, and Freya joined in right along with the others. She felt an odd burst of pride every time her guy sent his opponent spinning against the ropes with another crunching blow. At the end of the first three rounds, she wasn’t sure who was leading. They seemed to be perfectly matched. But in the middle of the fourth round, Troy climbed up onto the ropes, dove at Xander, and landed on him with his full weight. There was a sickening crunch as Troy’s forehead smashed into Xander’s face. Freya gasped. Xander roared in pain and fury. His hand went up to his face, and when he took it away again, there was blood all over the bridge of his nose. He kicked Troy away as he staggered to his feet, and there was silence as the audience collectively held their breath. Freya anxiously looked at the digital clock, positioned up high, counting away the seconds. Nine seconds of
There were whistles and screams again, and also a deeper sound, like a boo or a groan, Freya registered, as another dark shape emerged from a different tunnel and somersaulted into the ring. Freya gasped at the sight of the second fighter. He was equal in height and build to the first guy, but he didn’t share his good looks. He had a broad, high forehead, under which sat pudgy features, as if they’d been compressed by the weight of that great forehead. His lips and cheeks were fleshy, and his eyes like long slits. Like an evil baby , she thought distractedly. He pounded one fist into the opposite palm, making a loud slapping sound and he paced around the ring, face contorted with fury as he announced what he was going to do to his enemy. There seemed to be something malevolent in the way he carried himself, and she felt repelled by him, and immediately decided to root for the other guy.
“They say I’m a dirty fighter,” he was saying. “And I’m telling you: they got that right! This ain’t no WWF pussy shit. This is real fighting, and there are no rules. Troy is going to take down any motherfucker who crosses him, and make him as sorry as shit that he dared face me as an opponent!”
This time, there were more cheers than boos. It was a convincing speech, and he looked so menacing as he delivered it that Freya shuddered at the thought that he might flatten the other guy. Troy and Xander came together in the middle of the ring and bumped fists. Freya watched Troy drive his fist right back so his knuckles bumped hard against Xander’s. But Xander evidently met him with equal power as a grimace of pain flashed across his face.
“Gentlemen, please take your corners,” the compère shouted, his voice so weak and reedy in comparison to theirs. Xander and Troy hulked over to opposite corners of the ring and the starting bell rang. Both men hurtled into the middle of the ring and Xander threw a punch that connected with Troy’s cheekbone, and Troy swiftly retaliated by aiming a kick at his ribcage.
The fighting was brutal. Like nothing Freya had seen before. It was like the wrestling she’d seen on TV, but also boxing, with some martial arts maneuvers thrown in too. There didn’t seem to be many rules, outside of the bells going to mark the start and end of each round. The object seemed to be to flatten your opponent, any way you knew how. She wasn’t an expert at watching fighting by any means, but, as Troy had boasted, he seemed to succeed by fighting dirty, aiming well below the belt, going for jabs in the kidneys, kicks in the face. Xander seemed like a more measured fighter, relying on his huge bulk and strength to pummel Troy with his fists, throw him down with his body weight, and pin him in choke holds. He also seemed to be thinking three steps ahead, always anticipating his rival’s next move.
The air was full of grunts and the merciless pounding of flesh on flesh and bone on bone. The audience was very vocal too, whistling, cheering and hissing as one vicious blow after another was struck, and Freya joined in right along with the others. She felt an odd burst of pride every time her guy sent his opponent spinning against the ropes with another crunching blow. At the end of the first three rounds, she wasn’t sure who was leading. They seemed to be perfectly matched. But in the middle of the fourth round, Troy climbed up onto the ropes, dove at Xander, and landed on him with his full weight. There was a sickening crunch as Troy’s forehead smashed into Xander’s face. Freya gasped. Xander roared in pain and fury. His hand went up to his face, and when he took it away again, there was blood all over the bridge of his nose. He kicked Troy away as he staggered to his feet, and there was silence as the audience collectively held their breath. Freya anxiously looked at the digital clock, positioned up high, counting away the seconds. Nine seconds of
Similar Books
