Kurt followed the movements of your legs almost spellbound, his eyes followed every swing of your hips and followed the curves of your arms. As if he were following a violin performance.

He had his fists raised and his head between his shoulders. He was trained in close combat, it was easy to see.

The only question was how uninhibited he would be. Secretly, you hoped he would land a blow. Not that you would make it easy for him, but you wanted to feel the pain, the power in his hands.

Sighing, you pranced around him and bathed in the sight of his moving muscles. He wasn't afraid, even though it was clear that he knew who you were. And yet he was alert.

Hansen wasn't cocky enough to think he could beat you just like that. At the same time, he had enough self-confidence to fancy his chances.

Maybe he could win this fight.

Maybe.

A smile played around your lips as you closed the last distance between you. Now he was within your reach. And you in his.

He immediately seized the opportunity and struck out. The force of his punch was so powerful that you felt the suction of the air caress your face as you leaned back and disappeared under his blow.

Your feet spread apart, you leaned forward, so close to the ground, and slid around him once in a quick arc. Dust swirled up in a half-moon and obscured his vision.

But he was clever.

He spun round in a flash to stand face to face again. You didn't even have time to reach out and drag your metal fingernails across his exposed back.

Again, his fist swung forward, tearing up the curtain of dust and dirt. Your eyes widened and a grin lit up your face.

With a quick stance of your feet, you ducked to the side, darting forwards, straight at him. Wind chased through your hair.

Kurt blinked once. And the next moment you were standing right in front of him, both hands on his strong chest.

"You fight like a wild dog.", you laughed and pulled yourself up into the air, both hands placed on his shoulders and in the next breath you did a handstand directly above him. "Tell me, mutt, will you sit when I tell you to?"

Clenching his teeth, he tried to throw you off his back, but your nails dug into his flesh. Small rivulets of red poured over his t-shirt, colouring it a deep brown.

Grunting, he ignored the pain, spun round and then threw himself upside down in a roll. Caught by the sudden manoeuvre, you had to let go of him, jumped into the air in a somersault and landed on your feet as smoothly as a cat with a sweeping bow.

"I had heard that dogs like to wallow in the dirt.", you purred with a smile as he got back on his feet covered in dust.

But when the thick air subsided, your eyebrows rose in surprise. A wave of warmth coursed through your body. Then you couldn't help but chuckling excitedly.

With a thin lipped grin and fire in his eyes, Kurt stood in front of you, his hands clenched into fists. Sweat glistened on his forehead, but his breathing was calm. Despite the blood running down his shoulders, the adrenaline had taken hold of him.

"I stand corrected.", he admitted, his pleasantly masculine voice really coming into its own. "I don't fight women. But I will conquer the devil."

You stared at him for a moment in disbelief. There was no fear. But so much admiration. So much will.

"Perfect.", you breathed and had to smile.

It was a natural smile, gentle and more honest than it had been for a long time. Suddenly your urge to destroy him turned into a desire to tame him. This dog needed a master. And you couldn't think of anyone he wouldn't have ripped their throat out.

"Are we fighting properly now?", you asked into the roar of the crowd.

Kurt crunched his nose and grunted.

"Be my guest.", all of a sudden the light flickered around him.

And when you blinked, he was suddenly gone. Confused, you stood rigidly on the spot. It had gone quiet around you.

The onlookers only mumbled cheers and calls to fight. The mood was depressed.

Sceptically, you frowned.

Suddenly the air to your left flickered. It was just a tiny sensation, like a crack in time, barely noticeable if you hadn't had such good optics.

Immediately, all the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. Your legs twitched and you jumped back. Just then, Kurt appeared as if he had been born out of nowhere and rained a hail of fists down on you.

Gasping, you jumped to the side, dodging two blows before ducking under an Aust. Your gaze jumped up to him, white eyes looking back at you. This was a kind of tech that even you didn't possess.

With nimble fingers you leapt forward and fished out the knife he was carrying upside down in a leather sheath on his chest.

Your free hand found the space between his hand and shoulder and pulled you upwards. Everything happened so fast that most of those around you saw nothing but a cloud of dust.

When it subsided and the vision cleared, a murmur of approval went round the crowd.

With a sour yet bored expression in your eyes, you sat astride Kurt's shoulders, his own knife with the blunt side pressed to the pulse artery at his neck.

"You have a Sandevistan.", you remarked dryly. "You could have told me that. How rude."

Sweat beaded from the tip of his round nose. He laughed breathlessly. His eyes travelled over his shoulder to look at you.

"And what have you got?", he asked.

You grinned, wiggling the feet that hung over his shoulders.

"Dogs don't ask their masters what they have to offer.", you purred, flipped the knife in your grip so that you caught the tip with two fingers and then slid it back into the sheath on his chest in one smooth motion. "They eat what they are given."

With a quick jump, you kicked him in the back, causing him to stumble and then land on your own feet.

Taking a deep breath, Hansen threw his head back and laughed. It was a loud, throaty laugh but not so deep that it could make the air shake.