Sin took a deep breath to steady himself. This was a formidable opponent, and he needed to keep all his wits about him.
Taking a step back so that they were no longer touching, he circled fully behind the Hunter, shifted into liger for one split second, swiped his claws through the bindings around the male’s wrists and forearms, and shifted immediately back into human.
“Do it, Dark vermin,” he growled low.
It was a command for his prisoner to do as he requested and take that piss. But they both knew that it was also a dare.
He wanted his prey to run. Wanted him to fight.
Winner takes all.
Sin would do all the taking, he vowed.
The Hunter didn’t step away from Sin when he pulled his arms forward and rubbed his abused wrists. It was as if he purposely maintained his position, held his ground, even though Sin’s closeness must be uncomfortably invasive.
When a large, predatory, fully erect Beast was at your back, breathing down your neck, so close you could practically feel the tip of his fangs against your skin, anyone in their right mind would want to step away.
But the Hunter didn’t move.
With Sin practically plastered to his back, he shifted his loincloth beneath the hem of his tunic where Sin couldn’t see and took his cock in hand.
Looking down over the male’s shoulder, Sin couldn’t see what he did, the tunic blocking his view, but a strong stream of urine was released upon the leafy ground before them.
And suddenly, Sin wanted to take a piss as well. Preferably all over the other male’s body.
To mark his territory. And to see who would go the longest in a male-only one-upmanship as old as time.
He resisted though, just barely.
He wanted to brand his prey another way. Even more indelible than his claw marks down the man’s face.
The pissing went on for a good long while. Sin was begrudgingly impressed. Eventually, the fluid thinned, then subsided into a leaky trickle.
The male shook the last drops out and tucked himself away.
“Ready to be bound again, vermin?” Sin rumbled.
“What happened to the chase you promised me?”
The Hunter tilted his jaw slightly to the side, giving Sin a quarter profile of his face, his thick lashes casting mysterious shadows onto his cheek, the silvery moonlight glinting off the broad cliffs of his cheekbones.
For a moment they simply breathed, the man’s back almost touching Sin’s chest but not quite. His hard, muscular ass almost cushioning Sin’s aching erection.
Their breaths synchronized without their conscious will to do so. Chests rising and falling at the same time. Even their pulse aligned, Sin thought fancifully.
It was as if this enemy, the most hated in Sin’s long list of foes,this particular being, was an extension of Sin’s own body. As if they were somehow tethered together, in a way that Sin had never felt before.
Not even close.
Which was why, in that moment of confusion, he didn’t realize that the male had moved until it was too late—
As the man’s hard skull cracked forcefully into Sin’s face, breaking his nose instantly, and a short dagger plunged into Sin’s gut.
The Hunter twisted his knife within Sin’s flesh and tore it out with brutal force, making Sin grunt involuntarily at the blinding pain.
His reflexes served him well as he arched back just as the Hunter spun around to swipe the dagger sideways, aiming for Sin’s chest. What would have been a deep, long gash was only a thin graze, but blood was already pouring from both wounds down Sin’s torso.
And then, the man crouched low, spun and kicked, sweeping Sin’s legs out from underneath him, taking him to the hard ground.