Page 183 of Gift from the Wing

When he starts charging toward me, I turn on my heels and run back toward the pallet. The last thing I want to do is hurt him or use any of my magic on him. Then he’ll never trust me.

Like a baby fawn who hasn’t the first fucking clue how to run, I barely make it halfway there before the weight of a freight train crashes into theback of me and the wind gets knocked out of my lungs as we crash into the ground.

Instinctively, I try to shove him with my air and wrap him in vines, but no element responds to me.

Fuck, looks like it’s good old-fashion hand-to-hand.

Tillman’s training instantly floods my mind as the weight of Dec against my back is crushing and his arm digs into my stomach, making it a struggle to draw in any air.

I widen my legs and plant my toes firmly into the ground so I can lift my hips, and he presses his chest into me harder to stop my wiggling. I make enough room underneath me to slip my hands free from where they’re pinned between my body and the ground, then rapidly throw my elbow into his ribs twice. The second I feel his hold let up, I wrap my hand around his wrist, and plant my feet more firmly.

With more power than I’m sure he was expecting, I buck my hips up and turn my body sharply, rolling him off me.

His back slams to the ground and a huff of air gets forced out of his lungs, but I don’t waste any time as I push up off the ground and run once again.

Mentally, I command my legs to fucking work, while simultaneously trying my hardest to tug Trex and Codi to me from wherever in this dreamscape they’re at.

I sense him coming up behind me once again, but this time I’m ready. As his pounding feet give me an idea of how close he is, I spin on my heel to face him.

“Stop and listen to me before you get hurt,” I command forcefully, but with no magic or power behind it, it’s just a pleading shout.

His eyes narrow on me even more, and I soften mine, even raise my hands in no offense to show him I’m not a threat, but that seems to only piss him off more.

The air around us grows so thick, it’s almost impossible to draw in any. The misguided hatred rolling off him makes it toxic.

His limbs tremble with either his fury or adrenaline. Which, I’m not sure, but regardless, they’re both only going to lead to one thing. I open my mouth to try to explain again, but in the blink of an eye, he attacks.

He lunges forward with his fists flying at me like he has all intentions of breaking bones and drawing blood.

With a swift sidestep and a raise of my hand, I deflect the first punch just enough to send it past my ear. “Dec, stop, I’m not going to fight you. I’m here to help.”

My words are met with a snarl before he fucking unleashes an onslaught of attacks—each filled with more desperation than the last. Every punch I dodge or deflect riles him up even more and they come quicker, sharper, harder. I can’t even attempt to say anything else because I’m too focused on not getting my face bashed in.

The precise maneuvers—the obvious training he’s been receiving—soon give way to much more vicious attacks and techniques, and when he reaches out to grab a handful of my hair, I jump back.

“Fucking listen to me! Trex is safe and we’re looking for you.” I pant out, but my words go ignored. He’s lost to his fury.

My hands, elbows, thighs take a beating from hell as I continue to block him, and my lungs beg me to take a deeper breath. Every fucking move takes every drop of my concentration in this Elementra-forsaken dream world. I have to focus on every move he makes, while simultaneously commanding my body to work like it’s supposed to, follow the muscle memorized training.

Growing tired and impatient, I miscalculate his next strike and the graze of a knuckle across my cheek and the immediate pain that registers through my face color my vision red.

Gripping his wrist on the next swing, I pivot my body into his and flip his ass on his back, then pounce.

My knee presses into his chest, bearing down on the edge of his throat, and I have half a mind to beat the fuck out of him for all that, but Trex’s and Codi’s awareness skitters across my brain, keeping me pissed but less murderous.

His fists connect with my ribs and I grab his wrists, slamming them down above his head, putting all my body weight into it.

“If you don’t fucking listen to me, I’m going to knock your teeth down your throat,” I growl.

“I don’t want to hear shit you have to say. Because of you, my brother’s going to be dead soon.”

“Your brothers, plural, asshole, are fine. Safe, protected, and looking for you. I’m starting to wonder why, though. Hotheaded shithead. Who attacks without listening to what someone has to say?” I grit out angrily, slamming his arms down again as he tries to wiggle free.

“You’re a liar,” he sneers, narrowing his eyes at me.

I’m the liar? Are you freaking serious?

Just as I go to talk shit back, an inkling scurries across my mind, and my fingers flinch around his arms.

---