Good morning, little pet. I got tired of waiting."
Tiě Xióng's voice rolled across the clearing like thunder, but Bai Yue barely heard it over the roaring in her ears.
Three things happened simultaneously:
Han Shān lunged forward, ice crystallizing on his fists.
Zhāo Yàn vanished, reappearing between Bai Yue and the Bear King with claws extended and nine tails blazing like crimson fire.
And Mo Xiao, who had just been thrown twenty feet, picked himself up, shifted back to human form, and spat blood onto the dirt with a grin.
"That all you got, bear?"
Tiě Xióng laughed, a big, booming sound that made the cubs flinch. "I came for a conversation, not a war. But if you insist on—"
He didn't finish the sentence.
Because Han Shān's ice-covered fist connected with his jaw.
CRACK.
The Bear King's head snapped to the side. He stumbled back a step. Then he turned back, slowly, and smiled.
"Finally. Someone who doesn't just talk."
He swung.
