“Fucking enough!” he shouts. “Arga! Come out and fight me!”
Arga steps from the shroud of nightmares with a grin on his face, his shoulders squared, his muscles bunched, his fists clenching and unclenching. “Gladly.”
A second later, the ruby-eyed wolf launches itself again at Koda.
Arga’s grin widens. “But first…”
His fist darts out, punching his own wolf.
I’m frozen, stunned, since I assumed he’d aim for Koda. Arga’s power sizzles through the beast, which yelps and tumbles across the ground, where it lies still, but breathing.
I’m shocked when Arga plows after it, but Arga’s intentions are suddenly clear to me. My power must have depleted him more than he let on. He needs the wolf’s pain to strengthen himself before he fights Koda.
I launch myself after Arga before he can reach the wolf. Koda does, too, but once again, Ace is faster.
My fierce friend is a blur of black as he jumps, flying at Arga’s outstretched fist, latching on and savaging at Arga’s armor, stopping Arga in the process of dropping and drawing on the other wolf’s pain.
“No! Ace!” My scream of fear echoes around me, my feet pounding the dirt, still three steps behind as Arga’s other fist swings at Ace, bashing the side of his head.
With a yelp, Ace tumbles across the ground, landing heavily beside the other wolf, where they both lie still.
No.
“Fucking monster!” Koda roars, tackling Arga, roaring with pain when Arga’s fists crash into his sides over and over again.
Koda doesn’t stop, lifting Arga off his feet and throwing him down onto the ground, but Koda stumbles at the same time.
I know what a single hit from Arga feels like. Koda just took four in quick succession.
Koda crashes to his knees, swaying on the spot.
Arga rises up again, towering over him. “Fucking weakling.”
He raises his fist, aiming it for Koda’s upturned face, but I’m finally there, launching myself at Arga.
The time for avoiding Arga’s power is over.
Conserving my breath, I fill my fist with every memory I have of Koda, every terrifying moment back in Vegas when he stole our father’s power, every determined moment when he fought his conjured Reaper, even the quieter times when he told me I’d get my wish to watch him die.
My fist punches toward Arga’s heart.
The hit is solid, my power shoots through him and—
He barely reacts.
Before I can recover, his fist smacks my face so savagely that he drives me to the ground. Agony shoots down my spine, immobilizing me for the seconds it takes Arga to straddle me and hit me again—and again—his fists pummeling my face and chest, the punches muted through my armor, but his power gets right through while his body weight keeps me pinned.
With a desperate roar, Koda throws himself at Arga, his arm around his throat, wrenching him off me, a dagger in his hand, aimed at the side of Arga’s throat.
The tip of the blade barely grazes Arga’s neck before a blast of Arga’s burgundy power explodes around them, and Koda flies back again, the dagger clattering across the ground.
Koda lands facing me, more than five paces away, his eyes open, blood streaming down his face, his breathing shallow. “Nova…”
Arga storms toward me. “Time to finish this.”
Get up, Nova! Get up!
I force myself to move, force my legs to stand, even though I’m screaming with pain, fighting to remain standing. Agony shrieks through me as I stumble to Arga and I fight back, even though every punch and kick I land on his body only hurtsme, the pain rippling back at me tenfold.
