Every bone in his wrist breaks. My punch is so violent that his hand bends back. I nearly break his fucking limb clean off.
It has the effect I wanted: He can’t keep ahold of Peyton.
As he and I crash to the ground, he releases the whip, and she falls to the grass, the rope sliding away from her throat.
Her eyes fly open.
Her irises are full of crimson power.
That’s all I see before I hit the ground, my claws raking across Hadrix’s side, tearing through his bones.
He retaliates quickly, kicking me off him, but I won’t let him get back to Peyton. I regain my footing as fast as Hadrix does, charging at him again, my fists blurring.
He hits back, and then we’re exchanging brutal blows, tearing up each other’s bodies, breaking bones.
Fuck, I think he breaks one of my arms, but my beast is keeping me pain-free, so I don’t know for certain. Only by the way it bends badly when I try to punch with it. I know for certain that the bullet in my chest has shifted in a bad way. But again, my beast keeps me functional.
One last fight.
Fought for the right reasons.
I’m fighting for her.
She is my reason.
I’m aware of Peyton watching our movements—the way she follows the swing of our arms and legs. Most importantly, the way her wounds have healed, the awful bruise around her neck fades, and her snakes surge around her body again.
She has deposited the whip back on her hip, where her belt is hanging on by a thread. So is the remainder of her clothing, clinging to her beautiful body.
I’m also conscious of the way my fight with Hadrix is forming a barrier between her and Vulture.
It seems that isn’t what Peyton wants.
The moment I land a punch in Hadrix’s gut, causing him to hunch over, Peyton runs at us, launching herself into the air and using Hadrix’s back as a springboard to jump over the top of us.
Her momentum takes her straight at Vulture, who screams more spells.
Peyton doesn’t appear deterred.
Somehow, she isn’t affected by the White Wand.
Neither am I. It’s a fact that confuses me. When the other students were tearing at Peyton, she was trying to scream something at me.
She shouted to me, telling me to take the wand.
The echo of her words spins around within my mind even as Hadrix pummels me into a bloody pulp.
Striker, it’s you! Let out your rage. Be who you are.
I did let out my rage. I fuckinghurt herwith my rage.
That’s all I will ever do with my anger. Hurt the people I care about.
It’s time for my anger to die with me.
Not that I would have a choice anyway.
Hadrix’s next punch—delivered with his unbroken hand—crashes right into the location of the bullet wound on my chest.
