She quickly scrambled to her feet. That winning smile she had on earlier? Where has it gone?

Her breath came in shallow, sharp pulls now; the arena lights caught the sweat at her temple and made her eyes look smaller. That easy, confident curve of her mouth had folded into a line of concentration and cold intent.

She charged at me, her left fist cocked back before she swung again, forcing me to dodge it. An embarrassing miss on her part, she decided to use her other assists, her legs. Her left ...