Lost in Worlds

To Strike

Duck. Kick her leg, wrap her angle around the enemy's shin. Punch them in the gut. Change up the pattern each time so they can't memorise her movements. They strike. She can't. They have a weapon. She doesn't. Nevertheless, she's strengthened since her first encounter with the Queen, prepared to face anything coming her way.

She didn't kill, punching where the sun doesn't shine on the male soldiers to make up for it. She danced between duel partners, enjoying the dangerous game she played; something about hurting those who worked for a psychopath Queen, sparking interest in her. She caught glances of her mate doing similar, wounding any enemies that came too close and ensuring they struggled to the point of surrender.

She had been punched a couple of times, blood oozing down the side of her lean face, her breasts suffering multiple elbow clamps. She could have been groaning in pain, probably should have been, however, every slap, every strike, left her craving further destruction. Her feet were light as she swung her fists into their faces, the Pack following suit.

Avery admitted, despite the thrill rushing through her, her feet ached, heart thumping as she panted deeply. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed many of the Pack felt and looked the same; full of adrenaline but without ever lasting strength.

Those from the Queen's palace, wore army suits and official symbols representing pride for everything they were and worked for. The Pack bore practical clothing, those more buff ridding the need of the shoulder padding, their arms strong enough to withstand a lot more than the lanky men or women.

The enemy soldier she now fought in front of her froze so abruptly yet subtly, Avery couldn't help but feel suspicious as she copied their movements. Their stillness, their stare, kept her empty stomach queasy as it gurgled not just from physical exertion.

She spun around in time to see a sword raise above her head. The guard that had saved her before held that sword, her life flashing before her eyes as the guard shouted "Duck!" and brought the sword down as she tucked and rolled away. She felt compelled to scream 'Goose' in return. As she watched the enemy's head roll to the side, relief swung through her as no one had noticed the guard kill his supposed allies yet. The blood bath surrounding them must have been too much of a distraction.

She noticed her mate coming her way, both of them still remaining aware of the lethal weapons around them as they held eye contact. She waved, overly cheerful despite their situation to her mate. He stormed straight past her, tackling her Saviour to the ground, punching him in the nose. Blood oozed from the guard's mouth though his face remained unfathomable as Connor wrapped his hand around the guard's neck.

"You're the enemy," her mate growled.

"I'm well aware."

"You threatened my mate with a sword."

The guard began picking his nails, avoiding looking Connor in the eyes, features unfathomable as he remained locked underneath him. "I saved your mate's life. She would have been killed by that Queen's soldier had I not stepped in."

Connor narrowed his eyes, accusingly. "She is more than capable of holding up her own side."

"I know that," the guard leaned in to whisper and Avery only made out simple words from what he said thanks to her weak, human ears. "Powerful....ethereal...no holding back..."

Connor tightened his grip on the guard's neck at that, the guard remaining unfathomable. He spoke at a normal volume. "You're the enemy. How do I know you don't have that same deadly power? You almost hurt my mate."

"But I didn't. I had innocent intentions."

Her mate shot back, "You didn't look so innocent when scaring the living daylights out of her."