The Flame Trilogy (Books I, II & III)

2.10

Arashi

I push myself harder than necessary at training; it's the first time in a long time I didn't have to hold anything back. Plus, I had to fulfil my promise of kicking Zakhar's ass.

The rush of adrenaline, the sting in my knuckles as I throw punch after punch sets me alight. All the emotions I have to keep bottled up are replaced by a quiet rage and emptiness, enshrouding me in a familiar bliss. For a few hours I don't have to think, I could just feel- and goddess it felt good. The thrill of a good sparring session was almost as good as sex.

The thought made me contemplate the few times Dimitri had touched me, the time that he had me. I know for a fact that I'm dead wrong; nothing could come close to the feeling that man stirred in me when he touched me. Now, we were miles apart and neither of us knew if we would ever see each other again, far less enjoy anything more than that.

I can't help but worry about him. In that dream he looked so defeated, so sad- two things I never imagined that I would see in Dimitri. Hell, I didn't think he knew what those emotions were. It concerns me to think he's already given up, and if he has given up then forget the two of them, the entire Werewolf race would be in serious trouble.

I know there's nothing I can do to help him now; or was there? We were in two different places. I already know what I have to do here and I'd say managing to convince Zakhar to help me out is more progress than I thought I would have reached by this point. There isn't much time and truly what's the point in me worrying like this? I know there is none. If anything it's wasting time that I could be focused on trying to find a way to build a resistance here.

So instead I force myself to focus back on sparring. My knees buckle from underneath me as Zakhar catches me off guard with a punishing kick to the back of my knee and a punch to my back. I fall forwards onto my face, and I feel a weight settled onto my back; it takes me back to that rainy morning.

Dimitri's hard body pressed against mine, his hand shoving my face into the mud. And just like that, my thoughts start to spiral in the same loop all over again. No matter what I do, I can't stop the infuriating Alpha from invading my mind. I know that I'll only arrive at the same destination as before, yet I'm still shackled by this worry.

I send an elbow to the side of Zakhar's face, feeling the bone below shatter. It stuns him for a moment, enough that I could get his weight off me and get back to my feet. I let the demon inside me rise, loosening the control I have over her enough that she could transform me partly.

My nails turn to deadly talons, wings rip their way through my back, my gums sting with a familiar tightness as my teeth elongate into threatening fangs. I don't give him any time to recover; I attack with brutal force and precision. For a moment, the emptiness, the rage comes back blanketing my mind. It suffocates me, enshrouds me until it's the only thing I can feel; I lose myself in the feeling. Where it ends, and I begin I can't tell. I am darkness. I am pain. I am rage.

It's almost as if I pass out, because the next thing I know, Bogdan and someone else is pulling me off Zakhar's broken and bloodied body. He's out cold on the ground, covered in and surrounded by blood; had I not known how resilient we are, I would have sworn that I killed him.

Nobody looks, nobody cares. Accidents like this happen all the time here. Bogdan realising that I've finally come back to myself, instructs me to take Zakhar's body to the infirmary. Holding back a smartass retort behind gritted teeth at having to take orders from him, I comply; I could bide my time with that jackass. Whilst it isn't official, Aleksandr has already started treating me as his right hand and it would only be a matter of time until Bogdan learnt his place. Fancy titles mean nothing here.