Merciless Saints (St. Monarch's Academy 1) - Page 16

MJ stumbles to the side, mumbling, “I yield.”

I shake my head, wondering what MJ is even doing here.

Just then, Hugo steps forward. “How about a dance, sweetheart?”

“Fine,” Grandmaster Yeoh says, not looking as irritated as he did earlier.

I cross my arms over my chest and move a little closer as Hugo starts to circle Winter. When he moves in on her, I hold my breath. The punch he delivers to the side of her head knocks her back, but she doesn’t stumble like MJ did. I expect Winter to throw a couple of punches, but instead, she targets Hugo’s legs, the inside of her foot connecting with the side of his knee. Winter instantly delivers another kick.

I notice the slight limp as Hugo lunges at her, his fist almost connecting with her jaw but missing.

She’s using her speed against Hugo. Good girl.

Winter darts forward, swiping Hugo’s feet from under him. He grabs her leg, yanking her to the floor, but before he can get a good hold of her, her legs wrap around his neck.

The corner of my mouth lifts as I watch Winter strangle Hugo with her thighs. It takes a couple of seconds before Grandmaster Yeoh calls out, “Release him. The fight’s over.”

Winter listens, but as she gets up, Hugo yanks her back down. Before she can catch her bearings, he begins to deliver one blow after the other.

I take a step forward but catch myself.

Winter knees Hugo in the back, and it sends him sprawling over her. As he tries to get the upper hand back, she wildly bucks her body up, and it makes him fall to the side.

I let out the breath I was holding when Winter begins to lay into Hugo, a growl rippling from her.

God, she’s fierce. I underestimated her.

“The fight is over!” Grandmaster Yeoh shouts, having lost his temper with the two.

This time Winter keeps her eyes locked on Hugo as she climbs to her feet.

Hugo begins to chuckle as he spits blood onto the mat. “Not bad, Princess. Not bad at all.”

Breathless from the sparring session, Winter’s gaze snaps to mine, the anger back in her green eyes. The blood on her bottom lip and eyebrow make her look wild. It stirs something in my chest I’ve never felt before.

I nod to show her I watched, then I mutter, “Still not good enough.”

“I’m ready to fight you right now,” she hisses at me.

“That’s enough. Both of you, go run off your anger,” Grandmaster Yeoh orders. “If you fight outside of this studio, I won’t train you any further.”

Letting out a sigh, I strip the wrap from my hands and remove the sparring gear. I leave the studio before Winter and head toward the front doors. As soon as I step outside, I begin to jog.

Seconds later, I hear Winter’s footsteps behind me. She catches up to me, but I choose to ignore her, focusing on my breaths.

When we start our sixth lap around the castle, I pick up speed. Winter increases her pace to match mine, and it makes the corner of my mouth lift.

The woman probably takes everything in life as a dare.

We keep alternating at taking the lead, and when we start our tenth lap, I give it my everything, hoping to leave her behind.

As we turn the corner of the castle and the front steps come into sight, Winter darts past me. I let out a chuckle as the distance between us grows.

Fuck, the girl is fast. At least she has that going for her. Her speed might just save her life one day.

She comes to a stop by the stairs and then rests her hands on her knees, her eyes focusing on me as she gasps for air.

I slow down to a stop in front of Winter, and it has her straightening up. Tilting my head, I lift my hand to her bottom lip, and it has her freezing. Locking eyes with her, I brush the pad of my thumb over the dried blood.

“You might have speed, but you don’t have the endurance. Nice try, though.” As I begin to jog away from her, I call out, “You better get some ice on your bruises.”

Chapter 7

WINTER

“How’s your first day going?” Cillian asks during a call.

“Okay,” I mutter as I take a clean training outfit from the closet. “I had three fights.”

“And?”

I lay the outfit out on my bed and walk to the bathroom. Opening the faucets so my bathwater can run, I continue, “I beat MJ Fang. The fight with Hugo Lamas was stopped, but I was winning. He’s strong but slow.”

Cillian chuckles, then asks, “And the third?”

“Vetrov chocked me out,” I mumble.

I hear a sigh come over the line. “What did you learn from the fight against him?”

“That he’s arrogant and won’t fight me.”

There’s a moment’s silence, then Cillian mutters, “Careful of Vetrov, poppet. I know I taught you to never back down, but the Vetrovs are the best.”

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