“Okay, Evander just like yesterday, grab that rage that’s dwelling deep inside of you and use it,” Frida mutters.
I dig deep trying to find that rage, that haterade and it’s not there.
Getting frustrated, I look up, and she smirks. “Maybe you need some motivation.”
She closes her eyes, slightly crouching over and she starts tearing at her legs and arms, as her dark red fur gets exposed.
She just did a willed partial transformation and only transformed her legs and arms.
“I’m going to hit you so much harder than I did yesterday. In this form, I’m a whole lot faster and stronger, and you’re about to experience it first hand,” she warns.
Lunging, she swipes her claws at me with so much intensity and fury, I am barely able to dodge them.
A few swipes make contact, ripping my clothes and flesh as they do.
“Hey, that’s my favorite shirt,” I shout.
“Pity, pity, maybe you should be faster and I wouldn’t be able to catch you,” she replies with a sly tone and a grin, continuing her attack; swiping, slashing and kicking.
Then she balls her hand and lands a powerful blow to my ribs. The force involuntarily slumps my body to the ground.
Leaning down to me, as I’m still heaped on the ground, she grabs the top of my hair and lifts my head, so we are staring at each other. “I know you’re better than this, Evander, show me,” she whispers to me with determination burning in her eyes.
“Achilles told me that yesterday he was able to transform. But that doesn’t seem to be the case. Or maybe he needs a different kind of motivation,” Uriel shouts before a loud crack, like thunder breaks out, and Uriel grabs Frida by the back of her neck, lifting her off the ground.
Kicking and struggling to free herself, she shouts as panic quivers her voice.
“Uriel what the hell are you doing?”
“Lets see if putting your life on the line, instead of his, does anything,” he replied, looking down at me.
I meet his gaze as he slowly draws his sword.
As it’s being drawn there is a light ringing from the Archangel’s blade. Is he seriously going to do this?
“Uriel, cut it out, this isn’t funny anymore,” Frida shouts, flailing, trying to pry herself free from his grip.
Swiftly he raises his blade as if he is about to strike her down.
“No,” I shout as loud as I can. Everything goes red andFenrir’s fury explodes. All of a sudden I’m standing between Uriel and Frida, as I catch his blade with my left hand and simultaneously punch him in the head with everything I have.
Sending Uriel flying backwards across the arena, Frida starts to fall behind me. I quickly turn around and catch her.
Then I realize I’ve transformed, but it feels different this time. It’s not rage that is filling me, but something else, something I can’t describe, the same feeling I had when Fenrir first saw Serafine.
It’s as if my need to protect has changed the rage into something else, something more powerful.
It feels like it’s radiating out of me.
“Serafine, are you okay?” Fenrir asks lightly, placing her on the ground. As fast as I’d transformed, just as quickly I turned back. “Are you and Serafine okay?” I ask Frida as she fully turns back.
Shocked at what just transpired, the only thing she can mutter is, “I’m fine.”
I turn back to face Uriel. “Why would you do that? Why would you try to kill one of us… to what, prove a point? To see if I could transform? What if I didn’t, would you have killed her?” I yell at him as the rage and anger builds in me at what he had just done.
I feel my blood boil with anger as it fills me, fully losing myself in it. My vision narrows again, but this time I can’t control it. Everything goes red and I tell Fenrir,kill that motherfucker.
“I was planning on it,”he responds back.Just as I lunge at Uriel something grabs the back of my neck and raises me off the ground.
