Selina tried to dart past him, but he was quicker.
His hand caught her wrist—firm, unyielding, yet strangely careful. His grip adjusted slightly, as if to make sure he didn't hurt her. In one swift motion, Selina twisted on her heel and swung a sharp kick toward his face.
Zane, swift as ever, read her move in advance. He jerked his head back just in time, the kick slicing past his face. He stumbled a step back, his brows knitting into a grim line.
She flashed him a scornful smile before turning on her heels to run away.
Unfortunately, she barely took a step before feeling a strong tug at her top from behind, stopping her cold.
Her chest rose and fell, burning with frustration. Whipping around, she lunged forward again, this time with a sharp strike aimed at the side of his neck—a move that could knock him out if it connected this time for good.
