Repairing Bonds - ON HIATUS

Chapter one

Chapter One

I fought with a fierce intensity and cold focus, blocking the fists and kicks that were aimed to render me unconscious. My arms burned with the weight of exhaustion that pulled at me, trying to make my moves sluggish but I fought against that. I didn’t stop, only getting stronger and faster. It was only when a hard knock to my head, which blurred my vision for a few seconds, allowed me the extra dose of anger and fury that I needed to get the extra push against my attackers. I came at them with controlled rage pulsing through my veins.

I was down to my last attacker, finally having them pinned as I punched and delivered elbows that dizzied them, arms up, trying to block the onslaught of my attack.

“That’s it, stop!” I paused mid-punch, fist centimeters from delivering the final blow which would have knocked them out. I glanced up to where my trainer stood a while away, voice crossing the distance easily.

“What—why? I was doing so well!” I asked as I stood up from my straddled position. I leant a hand to the man I’d held to the ground, who’d accepted it grudgingly, stumbling slightly as he made his way over to the medic.

My trainer walked over to me. He was lean, lithe and one of the most patient men I’ve known to date. How I managed to find him as my trainer was hard to tell. He had buzzed brown hair, fair skin, whiskey colored eyes and was slightly taller than me, freckles dotting his skin. If you saw him in everyday life, with the baggy jeans and hoodies—no matter the season—you’d never picture him to be as skilled as he was. That was the whole point, I supposed.

“Yes, you were. And if you did any better you would have killed Sean.” I went to protest, to say that I could control myself before I noticed the six other students, either limping away or resting back on the grass, groaning and in pain. Control was definitely something I needed to better myself with.

“Sorry,” I bit out, face with the same mask I’ve had since I arrived.

“There’s no need to apologize, you did well. If that was four Strigoi, instead of six Dhampir’s, you would have survived. However, I want you back here with a mat in half an hour, Belle, not a minute later.” I nodded, calm mask completely enforced, although I was annoyed.

I’d been training at this tiny institution for the last five months, living in the South. I’d found my trainer, Wyatt Watts, the last time I went out hunting. It wasn’t my proudest moment, but it was probably one of the best to happen, as I’d gained him as a mentor.

By hunting, I meant that I’d believed that, to regain my strength, the best way was to seek out the Strigoi and kill them. I believed, and in a way still do, that to gain the skill I simply had to fight more of them. The longer I survived against them, I had more a chance at winning this thing between Nathan and me. However, that night I almost did die—almost lost completely.

.

It was raining, and I now realize how stupid that sounds because of course it is. Of course I would die in battle with the somber sound of rain pounding around me, completely alone. To be honest, even I could have told you that it was going to end that way. People can speak about their fate and destiny but that was my fate, it was my destiny. To fight until some undead bitch caught me unaware and bit me.

That’s what happened this night. I’d been trying to search for some lead, something on Nathan and who was behind the idea to kill off the bloodlines. At this point I’d found none. I was getting frustrated and I was still weak. I’d left the court only four months prior to this fight, but I’d made a name for myself. I’d headed to LA, where I knew many Strigoi roamed. Lots of places to hide and many unnamed faces that they could kill or turn. It was one of the placed Lissa and I had avoided when I ran away with her at the age of fifteen.