The wind cracked as Arkas punched again, fist laced in lightning.
But the tiger caught it.
A single clawed hand closed around Arkas's wrist, and his golden eyes narrowed with amusement.
"You're slow," the tiger said, voice deep and rumbling. "Slower than I expected for a bald idiot."
He tilted his head. "What's in that skull, hmm? Lightning and pride? Because it sure ain't brains."
Arkas growled. His body flared blue, electric current bursting from his back.
The tiger didn't budge. Instead, he twisted Arkas's arm and threw him straight down. Arkas smashed through a layer of clouds like a cannonball, streaking toward the earth below.
Cilian caught him mid-fall.
He extended an arc of frost under his body, sliding him back into position. He nodded once and turned skyward, jaw clenched.
"I've had enough of this guy," Arkas muttered.
"You think I haven't?" Cilian replied, eyes cold.
