Page 53 of Halfblood Deceived

Aella gripped the solid handles at once and lifted the claymores, forming an x with the blades to parry the blow Micah delivered with his sword. A growl that seemed to crawl from the bottom of her stomach left her bared teeth. “You will kill them over my dead body, you monster.”

Micah laughed at her. “You can’t defeat me, whore.”

Protective, fiery rage roared in Aella’s core. Its invisible flames burned into an inferno and heated her whole body. She felt her skin tighten and her bones harden as her resolve did.

Never again.

She would never allow him to kill someone in her presence again. Not without fighting until her last breath.

Aella’s sight cleared and sharpened. The edges of her vision took on a red-blue gleam.

Micah’s eyes grew wide with incredulity.

“Go to Hell,” Aella roared and stood, slicing their blades upward to free the tangle. She brandished her claymores, not even daring to wonder how it was possible for her to move as if she had taken sword fighting classes all her life.

Micah fought back with all he had, spittle flying as he roared and struck mercilessly, but Aella found she could be merciless, too.

A small corner of her mind reached the logical conclusion that she’d die in this fight, but she didn’t care.

Another little corner registered the nauseating pain pulsing from the mostly healed wound on her side, but she also didn’t care.

If Micah killed Gabby, Luce, and Mari, it would be because Aella was lying in pieces on the floor. She wouldn’t have it another way.

“I will win,” Micah threatened, slicing at Aella. “And when I do, I’ll drag you back home, beat you until I take the fight out of you and turn you into the obedient wife I deserve!”

Aella blocked a strike with one sword, falling to one knee and turning, slicing at Micah’s weak spot, right over his left hip.

He hissed and drew back. Blood poured out of the wound.

Aella stood at once, slicing, striking, giving him no quarter even as she felt her arms grow weaker. Sheer rage wouldn’t be enough to power her body for much longer, not after so many ordeals in such a short time.

“I’ll never be the wife you think you deserve!” she cried out, parrying and dodging a slice that could have claimed her arm. “I would rather die! I would rather burn at the stake! I would rather kill you!” The truth of that statement made something inside her shake and crumble. One of the invisible nooses she had carried around her neck for so long loosened.

“Shut up, whore!” Micah screamed.

“Make me!” Aella roared.

The heat inside her became oppressive. She felt as if she were a volcano about to erupt—

And she did.

A blast of blue energy left Aella in a wave that hit Micah square in his chest and sent him flying, further destroying with his body the remaining improvised shelf barrier.

He landed outside, disoriented, twisting with pain.

Aella’s mind reeled even as she gave chase, relieved to put more distance between him and the wounded females.

How did I do that? She had always been powerless, unable to shift, and weaker than the others.

Or so she had always believed.

She wasn’t surprised that yet another thing was a lie.

Micah stood, shaking his head, and snarling like the monster he was. He attacked Aella with renewed viciousness.

She parried, her movements were growing slower. No matter how much she refused to acknowledge the pain and exhaustion, her body was betraying her.

Micah’s eyes gleamed with malice. Three movements later, he sliced at Aella’s left forearm, making her lose one of her swords.

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