I Am Stronger Than Anger Novels & Stories

They should have sensed a war coming towards them. “Pathetic,” I muttered. Without thinking, I hurled my phone against the door angrily. It crashed hard and fell to the ground. My breathing grew heavy. Anger rushed through me quickly. The room suddenly felt too tight, too small. I hated foolishness. I hated when powerful men acted weak because of a woman who didn’t even know her worth.

But as I stood there, allowing myself to feel everything, something shifted within me. Anger began to rise to the surface, mixing with the sadness and frustration that already filled me. I felt a surge of determination well up inside of me, and I knew that I would not let these challenges defeat me. I was strong enough to overcome them, and I would emerge from this trial even stronger than before.

I tried to move past her without saying a word but then she blocked my path again. “In case you care to listen. Do you know what he told me once? That he loved how I could keep up with him. That I was strong, fiery, and unstoppable. But look at you, you can't even stand straight without looking like you want to fall apart” she mocked and I felt anger swoosh through me. I balled my right hand into a tight fist, my nails digging into my palms. My first instinct was silent but the anger in me was going to let it all out. In that moment I felt sparked, wild, and untamed.

All the discussions of the last few days come to mind and I start to put things together. "Please untie me," I tell him. And as soon as Dr. Archer starts to untie me, Dominic helps me get out of bed. "I think I'm strong enough to end this circus," I say angrily. But now I'm furious and aggressive just like some F5 tornado.Maybe even F6, because with my rage I overcame the universally agreed scale and right now a F5 is not enough to measure my anger. "That scumbag! I will kill him!" I keep hearing Dominci repeat.

My eyes widened a second after when my dad sat up on the stretcher and turned to face me with a glare. "I am not proud of what you did, I didn't raise no killer for a daughter." He shouted. "No, but I had to," I confessed as dad shook his head with a scowl and deep brown eyes. I breathed openly after the inhaler did its job. Regret filled my soul, I could never hurt a fly but how could I deceive a man enough to take his gun and shoot him without a glance? I wasn't like that. Anger had shaped me, I became like Ryson. I stared at Ryson as he stared back at me, making sure I was not harmed.

she spat disdainfully. You heard me. I forced myself to convert all my fury into boldness; my tongue had to be swift, cutting. You are just a coward hiding behind your pack. You can’t even face me like this!” Her anger was heating, and I could see that her posture was slowly tightening now, like a spring, as she turned all her attention on me. "Oh, so you think you can challenge me? You think you're stronger than you really are?" “Stronger than you will ever be,” was my lunging reply in a calm voice. “Come and try me.”

My pack will never respect an Alpha who can’t fend for himself. Anger burned through me again, and I smashed my fist into the bed rail. The clang of metal against metal echoed loud and unforgiving through the room. The anger was a constant, ugly presence, whispering insecurities and feeding my darkest thoughts. But anger was also my fuel, the only thing I could seem to control. The Alpha in me refused to be subdued. I couldn’t let losing the use of my legs be the end of me.

Every fiber of my being surged with a potent mix of anger and determination, my voice dripping with venomous fury. "You thought you could harm her and get away with it?" I seethed, my voice low and menacing. "You underestimated me, Elijah. You underestimated the depth of my love and the lengths I'll go to protect her." Without warning, I lunged at him, my fists flying with primal force. Blow after blow landed on Elijah's face, each strike resonating with the pent-up rage within me. I unleashed my anger upon my enemy, fueled by the sheer injustice inflicted upon my beloved.

Like what he saw back there didn't affect him. I know it did. I don't know why it bothers me so much, but it does. I hate weak men—always have. The thought of weakness, of submission, of someone cowering in front of me, makes my stomach twist with something sharp and bitter. It's not just disgust—it's anger. Deep, unexplainable anger that I can't place.

Something inside me snapped. I felt a surge of anger and strength that I didn't know I had. It was like a switch had been flipped, and suddenly I was no longer the weak, helpless person I thought I was. I looked up at Risa, and my eyes locked onto hers. I could feel the fury burning within me, and I knew I was not going to back down.