Adam's POV

With a deafening battle cry, I launch myself at the closest assailant, teeth bared and claws extended. The clash is swift and savage, bodies colliding in a flurry of fur and fangs. I dodge their frenzied attacks, my instincts honed and my senses heightened. The scent of sweat and blood fills the air, mingling with the lingering scent of cologne.

Amidst the chaos, words are exchanged, taunts and threats that punctuate each strike. “Is that all you’ve got?” I snarl, my voice a guttural growl. “I expected more from the so-called elite.”

Their responses come in the form of lunges and slashes, their claws tearing through the air with deadly precision. I evade their strikes, my movements fluid and calculated. But the sheer number of opponents begins to take its toll, their coordinated assault starting to breach my defenses.

Their claws rake across my fur, leaving trails of blood in their wake. I feel the sting of their wounds, a searing pain that only fuels my determination. I refuse to yie