Wolf (UNDER SOME SERIOUS REVISION)

Chapter Thirty-Seven: The Handmaid

Chapter Thirty-Seven: The Handmaiden

"Come on, Calla! Punch me!" Percyus shouted through his mouth guard, patting a spot on his cheek, bent down to my height for easy access.

I backed up, "I can't, Percy! I don't want to hurt you!"

Percyus groaned dramatically, letting out a long-suffering noise in his throat, dropping down to his knees in front of me. He spat his mouth guard onto the mat. His height even on his knees was only a few inches shorter than me. He wrapped the fabric of my shirt in between his fists, pulling on me like he was a child, barely contained frustration seeping out of the white knuckle grip. "Calla...aaaa! You're not going to hurt me." He tugged on my shirt again, "I promise you, I swear it on my life. Even if you do land a decent punch, I'll heal right away or you could heal me."

"But Percy-"

"But Percy nothing! You remember who I am right? Nothing you can do would hurt me, Calla."He stood up, once again making me feel small with his nearly unnatural height. "Now you-" he picked me up, hooking his hands under my arms and transporting me to the middle of the mat, "stand here, and just let 'er rip."

He slid his mouthguard back into his mouth, "Shee? I ebwen hab why mouf gar!"

He bent down and patted the spot he wanted me to hit. He entered my mind link, the familiar cool rush sliding down my spine, filling my brain like a tank of cold water. Right here! Hit me. I promise you won't-

I cut him off, swinging my fist with as much might as I dared. My fist hit the hard surface of his cheek, sending his head flying to the side. My hand immediately bloomed with pain, my powers rushing to fix the damage before I even had to will it to do so.

"Are you okay?" I asked, starting the question before I could fully withdraw my fist.

He turned back to me, a bored expression on his face. Seriously? You call that a punch? My grandma can hit harder than that, and she's been six feet under for almost twenty years now.

"I thought it was good!"

A toddler has more power in its swing than that.

I didn't wait for him to prepare, drawing my fist back and slamming it into his mouth this time. I grunted angrily, letting out a guttural cry to try and power myself up. I felt his lips smash against his mouth guard under my fist, the skin sliding around. Percyus' head cracked to the side, but he sprang back quicker than ever. His eyes lit up with excitement.

     Harder.

     I aimed for his eye socket, my bones crumpling the second my fist met the uneven surface.  I screamed out in pain, but the bones snapped back into place and healed before Percyus could even react.

     That's so fucking cool.

     I looked at my hand, seeing the veins and tendons under my skin glowing. I flexed the bones, opening and closing my perfectly healed hand. "Certainly helpful."

     I went back for his face again, and again, and again. Each time I did, he would continue to stare at me in boredom, offering up an encouraging that was weak  or  maybe you should try your other hand.