Lochlan throws a haymaker. Killian snaps a kick, slamming his bare foot into Lochlan’s other knee. It crunches. Lochlan topples to his side, and this time, he stays down, teeth grit, neck bared. “Get up,” Killian snarls. Lochlan bares his neck further. “Get up!” It’s a command. Lochlan has no choice.
