Novel & Cerita Fight'n Rage Gal

It was obvious that they've outnumbered them but Freya didn't give up. A soldier attacked her, he was massive, but she was fast, she dodged his attack in the last second before plunging her silver dagger deep in his chest before yanking it out with a scream of vengeance as blood splurts out, falling on her cheek, and all this while Ragnar watched in pure fascination as he rubbed his jaw to ease the slight ache she caused him. A woman landed a hit on him. He should be enraged, but rather, he was thrilled. He had never seen a woman fight with such fierce fire in her. And to f*cking top that all. She was a mere omega. The weakest of their race.

A warrior shouted hesitantly. "Calm down. Remember you have me." Galatrina smiled calmly. "As expected from a ranked 3 warrior." Another warrior replied. Galatrina opened her gold eyes and jumped elegantly at every roof, like a butterfly dancing above the night sky. "How can she jump that lightly?" A warrior asked in confusion. "As her name suggests, she can jump flawlessly like a calm sea. Her technique is quite deadly for a one on one fight, that's why she liked to fight alone." Another warrior responded.

Her body tingled, and her muscles burned. Ready to fight, Stralath crouched, Galene rolled in the sand, and rose to her feet. Not pausing to celebrate her transformation, she scrambled for her shorts and shoved them on. Her temper rose as she stormed across the sand. Miro tried to grab Galene's elbow, and she shook her off. "These bastards can't hurt me—' Dictator Daddy' wouldn't allow that to happen." "No—they won't hurt you." "Perfect." Galene's entire focus centered on Darghelm. As she stalked past Stralath, he shot her a startled look and rose to his full height.

Her hands released his ass. She moved from between his spread thighs to crawl up next to his body and leaned down to study his features. He watched her and she couldn’t miss the look of rage. His lips parted to reveal sharp fangs. He snarled at her, a little louder than the mild growl he’d given her before. His body didn’t move though.

I say as I burst out laughing at this, only fueling her anger as she launches herself at me in a fit of rage. I step aside still laughing as she spins and attempts to lunge at me again. I just roll my eyes at her as a screech comes from her in pure rage that I keep dodging her attacks. Getting fed up I spin as she lunges at me once more, grabbing her arm and a first full of her overly bleached hair. Twisting her arm up her back so she can’t do anything but growl at me. “Okay, let's start this again, shall we? What did you mean by I should have never been allowed to live?” I say again, while adding a little more pressure to her arm making her scream out in pain.

"Look at yourself, Carrie." I glared at him and he met my gaze, forcing me to look down at myself. Admittedly, it was pretty bad. My crop top had become a deep red colour and the material was in shreds, exposing flashes of my purple lace bra. Bloodstained my skin in huge patches and bites and scratches pulled at my skin. I ran my tongue over my lips, feeling the split of my bottom lip and the extent of the intense swelling. "Okay, so it was a rough friendly fight, big deal. Dante looked just as bad."

He killed her for nothing. My hatred fuelled me as we battled, he was still strong and wiry. Leaping in and out of defensive manoeuvres trying to wrong-foot me. It was obvious which of us had completed decades of attack training and which had only brute strength to rely on. Brute strength and boiling rage.

But with a common deadly enemy in their midst, it was important they put aside their differences and postpone vendettas for a future date. Kate and the Lambeth Gals would do some persuasion of their own, try to work through the hooligans’ girlfriends to convince their men to put grudges on hold and meet. They’d have a harder time convincing the female members of rival gangs; he’d seen them brawl and, if anything, their fights were far more vicious than their male counterparts, consisting not of face-scratching and hair-pulling but of good straightforward punching and blocking that would make a prizefighter proud. Several were proficient with a straight razor.

Rage was running his veins like a lava which was ready to burn the whole world. He stood up suddenly, pushing the chair with a great force and his friends looked at him. They could sense the change of demeanour in Killian. Killian's eyes turned bloodshot as he recalled how that whore slapped him in front of everyone. She fucking insulted him in front of everyone. No no dared to raise their eyes at him and this fucking bitch raised her hand at him. Rage took over and he punched the window in frustration, the glass broke and some of its pieces pierced inside his skin. Deep red blood flowed down his palm but he didn't feel any pain. His heart was burning in agony and he wanted to burn Amara in

Her golden eyes burned with fury, her features twisted in rage. Riela’s lycan form might have been magnificent, even beautiful, if not for the wild anger blazing in her gaze. She moved with unnatural speed. The guards rushed to restrain her, but she ripped through them effortlessly, tossing their bodies aside as if they weighed nothing. “Hold her down!” Rudy roared as he and Ben lunged at her. Trudis, wounded but determined, joined in. But with a single furious swing, Riela sent all three of them crashing into the walls. Blood splattered, and their groans echoed through the hall.