After the third time I stumble while walking, the naked shifter stares at me with a curled lip.
"Why are humans so weak?" he asks, his tone grating on my already frayed nerves.
I bristle at his words. Who does he think he is? "None of your business," I snap, surprising myself with the venom in my voice. Jericho said I do pretty well for a human, thank you very much. I'm just weakened.
I'll get back into shape and then wipe that cocky stare off his face on the mat.
Though, I have yet to have a legitimate win without any handicaps during our training spars… But a girl can dream, damn it.
The shifter's eyebrows shoot up, clearly taken aback by my sass. He peers at me more closely, his brow furrowing. "Do I know you?"
Before I can answer, he leans in, his nostrils flaring as he sniffs at me. I recoil, but he's already pulling back, a puzzled expression on his face.
"You don't have much of a scent," he says, sounding perplexed.
