I stormed to the center of the training ground, my boots pounding against the dirt. The anger simmered in my chest, a fire that needed to be released before it consumed me. I wasn't about to sit idly by, letting it fester. I wanted to fight—to feel something other than the rage burning in my veins.
Bodhi and Garrick exchanged uncertain glances as they slowly rose from the bench to join me. They were used to my temper, but they'd never seen me like this—feral, barely contained. And I couldn't care less.
Bodhi, ever the one to crack a joke, tried to lighten the mood. "Easy there, Princess. We don't need you breaking anything today." His grin was teasing, but there was a slight nervous edge to his tone.
"Save it," I snapped, barely sparing him a glance. "Just fight me."
I stood tall, hands resting on the hilts of my blades, the cool metal comforting against my skin, though it did little to calm the storm raging inside me.
Bodhi cracked his knuckles, stepping forward with his usual cocky grin. "I don't know, Nora. You're looking a little too fired up for me to feel good about this. You might hurt me." His teasing lilt didn't fool me. He could be quick and agile, but I knew he wasn't in the same league when it came to raw fury.
"Then keep up, Bodhi," I said, my voice like ice. "Let's see if you can."
Without waiting for him to react, I lunged forward, my footwork light and fast, every movement precise and calculated. Bodhi barely had time to raise his arms as I closed the distance, landing a brutal strike to his side. The blow wasn't meant to injure—just to remind him of my skill.
He stumbled back, wide-eyed, but recovered quickly, moving into a defensive stance. His usual cockiness vanished, replaced by a guarded caution. He moved fluidly, trying to land a blow, but I was already a step ahead.
We circled, the fight playing out like a dance—his quick jabs and feints against my precision and power. I dodged a kick, spun around, and struck—my elbow connecting with his ribs with a sharp crack. Bodhi gasped, backing up a step, winded but not out of it.
"Getting tired already, Bodhi?" I taunted, my breath steady, though the anger that fueled me made it hard to mask the edge in my voice.
Bodhi grinned through the pain, but it didn't last long. His movements were becoming slower, more forced, and I could see the exhaustion on his face.
With a sudden burst of speed, I closed the gap again. A quick feint to the left, and when he moved to block it, I shifted to the right. My leg swept his feet out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground.
He groaned, rolling to his side. "Okay, okay. I'm done," he muttered, tapping out. "You win. Damn, you're pissed."
I stepped back, allowing him to catch his breath, though my glare never wavered. My muscles were still coiled tight with rage, but the tension in my chest had eased slightly. Bodhi was down, but I wasn't done yet.
I looked at Garrick, who was watching closely, his jaw set in that familiar, calculating way. He wasn't going to take it easy on me, and I didn't want him to.
"Your turn, Garrick," I said, my voice cold. He nodded and stepped forward, his stance firm, ready for the real fight.
The moment he made his move, I knew it would be different. Garrick was methodical, disciplined, always three steps ahead in a way that Bodhi wasn't. He moved to the right, and I immediately countered to the left. We were like two opposing forces—his calm precision against my wild, furious energy.
I ducked a punch, sweeping his leg out from under him, but he recovered quickly, his body twisting into a fluid roll to get back to his feet. He was fast, but I was faster. Every time I thought I'd made a clean strike, he blocked it or redirected my momentum.
Our fight escalated quickly. He moved in, trying to land a solid blow, but I dodged, sweeping his feet out from under him once more. He didn't fall as easily as Bodhi had, though. He rolled, catching his balance in a flash, and came at me again. His eyes were narrowed, focused on the fight.
But I was done playing.
I could feel the fire in my chest, the need to break something, to release all of the tension, all of the frustration. With a sudden roar of anger, I launched myself at him, faster than I'd ever moved before. My elbow slammed into his ribs, hard enough to hear the air rush out of his lungs. He staggered back, gasping for breath, but I didn't give him the chance to recover. My knee went into his stomach, and before he could react, I had him on the ground.
Garrick grunted, clearly winded. I stood over him, chest heaving, and watched as he tried to push himself up. He was strong, but the fight had gone out of him. I wasn't about to let him back up, though. I stepped back, staring down at him with cold eyes.
"Had enough?" I asked, my voice quiet but intense.
He didn't respond immediately, instead sitting up, panting. The fight had drained from him, and I knew he wouldn't get up again. He nodded, finally conceding. "You win. Damn, Nora, you've got a serious temper."
I exhaled, the anger still surging beneath my skin, but at least it was getting out. I turned to look at Xaden, who had been watching the whole thing with that unreadable look of his.
I wiped the sweat off my brow, my muscles still taut with adrenaline. "You're next," I said, pointing at him, my voice low and lethal.
Xaden didn't flinch. His eyes met mine, a smirk tugging at his lips.
I didn't give him a chance to speak.
The moment Xaden's gaze flickered away from mine, I launched at him, my body slamming into his with a force that sent both of us tumbling to the ground. I barely noticed the roughness of the dirt under me, or the shock on his face. All I cared about was feeling him beneath me, needing to make him understand the anger seething inside me—the betrayal, the rage, the confusion.
My hands were everywhere. On his chest. His shoulders. My nails dug into his skin, tearing at the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, forcing him to feel the storm I was holding inside me. The world was a blur. There was no room for anything but the pulse of my heart, the burning in my veins. I wanted to hurt him—no, I needed to hurt him. I needed him to feel what I had felt the moment I realized he'd kept the truth from me.
Xaden didn't fight back—not at first. He took the weight of me with a stiffness that only made me angrier. His hands were by his sides, but he didn't try to push me off. He didn't try to stop me. He let me do this.
That was the thing about Xaden. He was always so in control. So composed. But now, he just... let me have him.
I pressed my body harder into his, feeling the heat of him, his muscles rigid beneath me, like stone. His chest rose and fell with every breath, and I knew that beneath all that composure, beneath his anger, something else was rising. He felt it too.
His jaw clenched, and I knew he was waiting. Waiting for me to blow out the frustration that was consuming me. He was waiting for me to stop.
But I wasn't stopping.
I moved. Fast. My hands pinned his wrists to the ground with an unrelenting force, forcing him to stay where I wanted him. He tensed, his body becoming a solid wall of resistance under me, but I wasn't having it. I wasn't done.
I straddled him, my thighs bracketing his hips, pinning him where he was, and slammed my fists into his chest—hard. Once. Twice. I didn't know if I was hurting him or just letting out the explosion of emotion that had been building for days.
When I stopped, I stared down at him, my chest heaving with the force of my breath. His lips were pressed together, his eyes dark with something I couldn't place. His fingers twitched, like he was trying to decide whether to move or just stay in this tense standoff.
The ground was quiet except for the sound of our breaths and the thrum of something thick and pulsing between us.
It took everything in me to not scream. To not shout. But I didn't need to. The air around us crackled. There was no need for words, no need to ask why he hadn't told me about the bond between our dragons. No need to tell him how much I hated him for thinking I couldn't handle the truth.
I released his wrists, and for a moment, he stayed perfectly still, watching me. His chest still rose and fell under my palms, but there was nothing left of the stoic warrior he liked to pretend he was. He was raw. Vulnerable. And I was so fucking angry I didn't know what to do with myself.
I pushed myself up, standing over him, the anger still boiling in my veins. My hands were shaking, but I didn't care.
My eyes flickered to Bodhi and Garrick, who were now standing to the side, watching us with wide eyes. Bodhi looked uncomfortable, like he wanted to stop this, but Garrick... Garrick just stood there. Unblinking. Waiting.
Bodhi opened his mouth, probably to say something about stopping this, but I cut him off.
I lifted my boot and pressed it against Xaden's chest, pinning him back down. The force of it left no room for hesitation.
I didn't look at either of them. I only stared down at Xaden, letting the rage that had built inside me finally have its moment. I wasn't done with him. Not yet.
When I finally spoke, it wasn't words—just a growl, low and threatening. My voice was thick with venom, and I let it slip out slowly.
"Next time, you tell me," I spat.
I turned to Garrick, who raised an eyebrow, clearly unsure of how to handle this.
"Don't worry, Nora," Bodhi mumbled nervously, "Maybe—maybe it's time to stop."
"No," Garrick said, his voice calm but firm, his eyes never leaving me. "Let her be."
I didn't even spare him a glance as I bent down, putting my face close to Xaden's ear. My voice was a low rasp. "You think you can hide this from me? You think I'd be okay with you keeping something so big from me?"
Xaden didn't answer. He didn't need to. The weight of the bond between us—between our dragons—was heavy enough. His eyes were heavy, dark with something I couldn't decipher. Guilt? Regret?
I wasn't sure. I didn't care.
I stepped back, standing tall, looking down at him. I felt an anger that was somehow freeing, and in that moment, I was done with this. Done with pretending I didn't care. Done with holding back.