Ruthless 🗡️/ Fourth Wing

Chapter~17

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.