Come Out Fighting Book Novels & Stories

He let me go, and I stumbled before I could stand upright. He threw a water bottle at me and stormed out of the room. I rinsed my mouth and gulped down the water, before running after Callum to catch up to him. I guess he was right- it was either kill or get killed. And right now me dying would not do anyone any good. ****************************************************************************

Ellie. I lowly growl and tightly hold my head to block away their voices. No matter what happens, no one is touching me I refuse to be part of their sick game. There is no visible skin on my body anymore. My claws have elongated and fur covers the whole of my body. The need to fight intensifies, and with another loud growl, I grab one of the guy's necks and instantly rip his head off. Great strength surges through my veins and I grab another one and another one until the floor is a blood mess of ruined flesh.

As the man went down, Richard used the momentum to drive his elbow into the second guard’s solar plexus, sending him reeling back into a display of fancy, old-fashioned encyclopedias of the shop. Books rained down like heavy, leather-bound hail. "Stay down," Richard warned, his breath coming in short, controlled bursts. He looked at Nora, who had retreated toward the door, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and a strange, perverse excitement. "You're insane," she spat. "You're actually going to fight for her? In a bookstore in the middle of nowhere?" "I’m done negotiating, Nora," Richard said, discarding the walking stick and stepping over the fallen guard.

I'm making myself and the people around me proud. I took the sword from my bed and pocket it in its jacket. We won't be using any irons to fight. The fight is mainly with fists. My fist is going to bruise, I'm sure of that. I took a deep breath before making my way out of the room. Ashley and Lena were already at work. They left so early in other to catch up with the fight. We'll meet at the battleground. Oh moon goddess, come to my rescue.

he spat, his words cutting like a knife. I could feel the heat of anger rising in me, fueling my determination to stand my ground. "I will not let you harm my family or take what belongs to us. You will pay for your treachery, Brooke," I declared, my voice trembling with rage. The clash of steel against steel rang out in the quiet forest, the sound of battle echoing through the trees. Sigil fought fiercely at my side, his skill and strength a reassuring presence amid chaos. As the fight raged on, I felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through my veins, pushing me to fight with all my might. The air was thick with sweat and the metallic tang of blood, the ground slick with fallen leaves and mu

The house began to sink, the bodies began to fall in and disappear. David didn’t back down from a fight. He’d want to face me. But being injured means all bets are off, when you’re desperate self preservation is all you care about. “Holy shit,” Dough said. Fire balls began to spit out of the ground like lava, this was a horror movie on steroids. I balled my hands into fists. “FIGHT ME LIKE A MAN,” I yelled. His laughter filled the air again, maniacal. I swirled around, wishing I had eyes in the back of my head. Murphy came to my side, and we floated back to back.

Diego’s breath caught as he surveyed the scene. The narrow alley offered little cover, and the enemy’s presence was unmistakable. With a jerk of his chin, Diego signaled his pack to prepare for combat. The air charged with imminent conflict, he drew his sword and advanced. The guards reacted swiftly—blades clashed, and shouts filled the cold air. Diego fought with the precision and fury of a man who had nothing left to lose. His every strike was deliberate, his defenses impenetrable as he parried a vicious blow and countered with a decisive thrust.

I wasn’t going to go out like this. I was dead. That much I knew. It was going to kill me, and I wasn’t strong enough to fight it off. It was going to drain me, consume me, and it was going to be slow. It was going to be painful. But I wasn’t going to go down without a fight. I screamed again as I lashed out with my feet. They connected with the spirit’s chest, shoving it backward. Its claws tore through my arms as it stumbled backward.

My own troops, along with HornSide warriors, met them head-on, a desperate clash of fur and steel, fangs and advanced weaponry. My wolf surged forward, a black blur of fury, tearing into the closest outlander wolf, its powerful jaws snapping. I ripped and clawed, my years of combat training taking over, every move precise, every strike deadly. I heard the roar of my own troop, their rallying cries, their desperate snarls. The fight thickened. The outlanders, unlike any enemy we had faced before, seemed limitless, their numbers overwhelming. They were organized, too, their armed units moving in coordinated patterns, flanking our warriors, cutting off escape routes. It was a brutal, bloody dan

As the adage goes, when shit hits the fan, you don't just stand there, you hire an army of cleaners to clean that shit up. And that, ladies and gentlemen is how my world got flipped on its axis and with the new revelation, I do what I always do, I plan my next move against Victory Sinclair.