Shadow Hunter
His hawk tattoo glistened with the trails of sweat running down his tanned chest, its inked talons raking his shuddering stomach as a feathered wing arched itself over his right shoulder.
I flinched as the stick Big Jim held whistled downwards, landing in the space between Aaron's collar bone and neck. My stomach rose to my throat at the sound of the landing thwack. Aaron grunted and faltered back, giving himself a moment to shake the hit off before he took a calculated lunge forward, knocking Big Jim flat on his back.
The bigger man's wrist thick rod spilled from his sweaty grip and rolled outside the four markers. Aaron leapt off to the side and crouched behind his opponent, oblivious of t
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