Beats up two guys

Ryn eased her glasses back on, shifting Denise into Naomi’s arms. She pivoted toward Franklin’s pack mates, who’d never seen her eyes—that display had been Franklin’s alone. The one Ryn had marked bolted at her, reaching for her hoodie. “You’re mine, you little—”
She snatched his wrist, twisting. The pop satisfied on nearly a spiritual level, as did his shriek. He buckled and Ryn backhanded him, snapping his head violently to one side. He crashed to elbows and knees at Ryn’s feet.
Using his back as a springboard, she leapt and sailed onto the pack mate behind him. Pincering her knees to his shoulders, she punched straight down into his face. Again and again and again, she hit him; he couldn’t get his arms up to block, so she took her time. A dozen shots changed his face’s shape and color, from pale to purple under her thorough ministration. Teeth and blood flew over her shoulder; she broke his nose, the orbit of one eye. When he collapsed, Ryn sprang free, alighting to the floor.
The marked man she’d floored attempted to stand, so she planted her knee into his jaw, flattening him again.
“My God, you psychopath, you broke his nose!” cried the brunette, rushing to tend the marked man.
“Nose once, jaw twice; wrist in six places.” I’m not done yet, either. Heal, you dog. I will be back for you
all. She steered her gaze to Franklin. Especially you.


Chapter 9, Page 135