Davien's P. O. V
We stood across from each other at the middle of the room, bleeding and panting, with chairs and tables scattered and broken around me. I raised my gaze from Oliver's rippped shirt, to his claw splattered chest.
I chuckled. "I guess I was right, you had been pulling your punches all this time." I pointed out, referring to all the times we sparred in the past, and he lost all too quickly.
He hissed, "I couldn't show the enemy all my tricks."
"True, but are you sure you're going to hold out until the end?" I asked, watching as blood gushed out of his abdomen where I had jabbed my claw into.
Of course, my body had sustained a significant amount of wounds, mostly on my back, but I was fine, I could find two more of him before I threw in the towel.
