Fight'n Rage Gal Mga Nobela at Kwento

Georgia is better because she expanded her zone, learned how to use different kinds of blade related weapons…' 'Like Chinese? 'She is Chinese. Her real name is Fa Yuerui.' 'So, how are you special?' 'I was hoping you would ask that,' I smirked. 'I know how to do all.' 'You are kidding, right?' I winked at her with a goofy smirk. 'Everything? What is your main specialty?' 'Lance is better at long-range shooting, I'm better at short range shooting. I can get rid of Georgia and Sylvester without any weapons. Barrow is better at explosive, but I know enough…'

Her face reddened, crumpled her fist, and gritted her teeth. Rei’s pain tripled as Amaia said the words she didn’t want to hear. She is a wolf but her heart was like a human, opposite to the attitude of Amaia who can’t control her rage. She wanted to cry; almost her tears will fall at the peripheral vision of her eyes.

His Wolves were strong and so they would fight against anything they thought might harm him, alcohol included ' You should just accept it ' Rage said. Asher had named him that because he was the fiercest of all three Wolves that lived rent-free inside his head. Rage was the Wolf Form he usually took whenever fighting against enemies. The Wolf was strong, with dark brown fur and piercing red eyes, he was known as ' Death ' by his enemies because he didn't leave any survivors whenever he went on a Rampage. It took Asher years to be able to control Rage properly, even then he still lost control sometimes. ' She is going to be ours either way. You can save your Sister's love from getting his thr

Because she should be fucking terrified. I roll my shoulders, lifting my chin. I don’t feel the pain anymore. Not the wounds, not the exhaustion—nothing but the rage. I am fueled by everything we’ve lost. My warriors. The Oracle warriors. Alpha Charles. Nate. I am blinded by fucking rage. Using it to amplify my power. She enters a frenzied attack, a blur of shadow and hunger, lunging continuously. And I dodge, moving backwards and leading her back to the battlefield as she continues to jump at me.

Then again, I’m not a warrior and they understand things I don’t. So I stand back and watch, first Charles tussles with Ryan, the two striking back and forth, one with the advantage, then the other. After a particularly ferocious strike, Ryan is able to knock Charles against a large rock. I don’t know if it knocks the wind out of him, but he doesn’t get back up. Now that she has the opportunity, Rita strikes at Ryan. She is significantly smaller in size. I’m hoping this makes her faster. That’s when I realize I’m fisting my hands so aggressively that my fingernails are drawing blood from the inside of my palms.

“Our first match is about to begin. Please welcome our competitors!” Two fighters entered the ring from opposite sides. The first was a woman with her red hair tied back in a tight braid. She moved with confidence, and her stance was like someone who had spent years training. “That’s Gamma Lydia from the Blue Ridge Pack,” someone behind me said. “She commands their entire army.” The second fighter was a tall man with pale skin and an arrogant smirk on his face. He rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck as he sized up his opponent. “And that’s Gamma Torres from the Mountain Ridge Pack,” another voice added.

Ryn shouted with emotion. Anger made Ryn's adrenaline fill up. She could not tolerate Walter's hypocrisy. She jumped up and attacked him. Of course, this was not an easy fight. Walter was the one who taught her to fight. They had often fought as opponents during their training. But this time they were fighting in anger and vengeance. In this fight, Ryn would only stop if one of them died. Revenge motivated Ryn to end her fight after Walter's death. The girl was very aggressive. She attacked Walter from various sides and attacks. At last, she managed to deliver a crushing punch that knocked Walter down.

The Blackfang sparring yard smelled like sweat, blood, and the kind of want that clung to the skin long after the fight ended. Dust floated in sunlit shafts that cut through the tree-filtered sky, catching on the curve of Jasmine’s hip as she stood barefoot in the ring, a strip of black fabric knotted at her chest, barely covering her breasts. Her thighs gleamed with sweat. Her mouth wore the kind of smile that made men forget who they were.

Raina looks absolutely livid and now with her so angry and disoriented, our spar has quickly turned from combact practice to me trying to avoid death through the rain of reckless, swift punches she was now throwing at me. My arms were starting to hurt and while on the verge of collapsing from her severe attacks—of some which I block while others land cleanly and painfully on parts of my body—but the instructors didn't see the need to stop our session either. Raina's attacks didn't falter either, in fact, she seems even more crazed from the few attacks I was manageably blocking. Her hair had broken loose, a messy pile on her shoulders and back. Her eyes were glazy and raging with fiery determ

She sprang into the nearest rogue, muscles coiling and releasing with savage precision. Her first blow struck like iron: a sweeping kick that sent the creature crashing into the wall. Her claws—wolf claws—sprouted in a flash of fur and bone, white and gleaming. She slashed with both hands, and the rogue shrieked, stumbling back with a gash across its flank. Before it could recover, Lilly spun, delivering a backhand strike to its jaw, the crack echoing like a whip. Link fought his way through the other two, steel meeting tooth and claw. But Lilly, bare-handed, was a whirlwind of fur and fury. She tore through the rogues, her senses guiding her to every weakness. Each strike was deliberate, de