Fury Peter Novels & Stories

Queen Zari takes a pair of shorts from a nearby guard and throws them at the boy's feet. "His name is Peter. He's a sadistic fuck that likes bullying pups and thinks it's funny to beat up people and apparently he also thinks rejection is a valid reason to kill someone's sister!" he snarls and I jump a little when he suddenly smashes his fist into the boy's face.

Blood trickled from Peter's mouth as he staggered back. "Yule is dead!" Shaun thundered. "Are you even human? You should be here to apologize to Freya, but no—you bring your mistress to humiliate her? You don't deserve to call yourself a man!" Peter tilted his head, stunned by the punch, before recovering enough to sneer, "And who the hell are you to hit me?" His face twisted as if a lightbulb flicked on. "Oh, I get it. You're the guy Freya's been sneaking around with! And now you're cursing my son to be dead?!"

Felix's clenched fist was ready to strike Peter's jaw. But just as quickly, Peter spoke up, "I'm sorry, Sir. I would never be interested in Miss Cyra," he said fearfully while trying to resist Felix's attack. Felix became even more enraged seeing Peter remain silent as if he was hiding something. He became more suspicious that Peter had a crush on Cyra. Then suddenly, Felix spoke loudly, "Honestly, are you?" he demanded angrily. "All right, Sir! I have a crush on Puspa. I secretly like her!" Peter admitted, closing his eyes in fear of Felix's reaction.

Damond his other friend said. “Fuck!” Peter cursed. That prick doesn’t even know how to protect his sister, and he expects him to give them his blessing? “I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch!”

“What is this?” I groaned, looking ahead to Peter who was blind folded. Five days and he stopped looking like a ghost. A tux was on his body, a pair of hospital slippers on his feet. I heard the fit he threw three rooms away when they told him to get in a tux and pull on a blindfold. I could already see a bid of sweat from him being out of bed and about. He was still weak but that didn’t stop him from ordering one hit after another on the Italians. It was a bloodbath in the Italian territory for sure. Peter had pulled all resources and declared war which he was winning.

Solana completely ignored the warnings, and her aloof expression made others feel that she might even be deaf. "I initially wanted to keep this skill to fight against Casper, but consider yourself unlucky!" Peter roared. His voice was so loud that one could see visible airwaves in the surrounding space. In that instant, the bandages wrapping his body were all torn apart and shattered into the air as if they were white butterflies dancing everywhere. Among the white pieces, Peter bolted toward Solana like lightning, and he showed his palm out, which made an earth-shattering noise as he roared, "The Heart Destroyer Slap!"

"I enjoy the system I've got going for me here, and I'd be content if things stayed this way forever. Forget the past race and world; this newfound one is perfect for me." "You're a lunatic sociopath," Peter said emphatically. "There's no question about it. You're a motherfucking freak, and I'd want you to avoid everybody within my group." John took a step closer, nearly touching from abdomen to abdomen with Peter. He's attempting to be threatening, but he appears like a kid in comparison to Peter, who didn't even seem particularly bothered and intimidated by John's display of violence. "Are you going to force me?" "If I have to," Peter said firmly, putting his forearm over his abdomen and f

“How?” “Swing your elbow like you’re swinging a reverse punch.” Easy enough. I almost topple over. He swats me aside. Now, his hands are on my sides. They’re warm and comforting and I feel I’m melting a little but for some reason, it just infuriates me. I could hurt him, now. I know it. Really hurt him. I can’t be thinking of this. “Wide stance. Stabilise with your stomach.” He’s close to me, breath on my face. Why is it making me angrier? “Try again.” I’m not sure if it’s the unbridled fury that drives me, but I line up to do some damage. Take a swing. Hit his palm he’s raised defensively. And he flinches a little. It hasn’t done much to placate me at all. I want to hurt him.

He said coldly. He grabbed Peter’s shoulder and yanked him back forcefully. Peter stumbled but recovered fast, swinging a wild punch that connected with Tyrone’s jaw. The sound was sharp. Tyrone’s head snapped to the side, but he immediately countered, driving his fist into Peter’s ribs. “Stay the hell away from her,” Tyrone growled, shoving Peter hard. Peter laughed through the pain, breathing heavily. “You think you’re tough? She’s mine. Always has been.” He lunged again, grabbing Tyrone’s collar and trying to throw him into the patio furniture.

Ripples that wash off the stupor scales from my eyes. I snap my head up to know who the hell pushed me, but everything happens so fast. Luke's fist delivers a hard punch to Peter's jaw, sending Peter sprawling flat on the lounge chair. He doesn't wait for Peter to recover before he grabs him up by the collar and gives him another death punch. Blood coats the knuckles of Luke's fingers when he retrieves his fist from Peter's face.