Page 59 of Heimlock

Coach watches me with white eyes, his stare boring a hole into my brain. “There’s been a change of plans.”

A prickle of dread works its way down my spine. “A change?”

“Yes. Another fighter requested to take my place.”

Immediately, I know who. Taking a step back, I shake my head. “No.”

“You don’t even know who.”

“I know exactly who.”

Coach crosses his muscular arms. “I didn’t know the two of you were friendly.”

“We aren’t.” Anger swirls in my veins, heating my blood. I can’t believe Kyrielle is doing this. Putting me on the spot. And for Coach to entertain it?

It’s both parts ballsy and annoying as fuck. Why can’t she just leave me alone?

Ignoring our usual respectful dynamic, I jab a finger at him. “Why in the Hells are you springing this on me now? I could kill her.”

He looks unperturbed. “You won’t.”

Snarling, I begin pacing. “How can you say that? There’s a reason I don’t do battles, Coach.”

“She’ll preemptively take a healing potion. Kyrielle is far stronger than she appears.”

“I know how strong she is,” I growl, whirling on him. “She doesn’t know how strong I am.”

Coach chuckles softly. “She could probably stand to be knocked down a peg.”

“I refuse to be the one who does it.”

He eyes me critically, and I can tell, after years of working together, that he won’t budge on this. “She said you’d say that. She also told me to tell you that if you ‘puss out’, she’ll never speak to you again.”

My mouth snaps shut so hard, my fangs pierce my lip. Fury, kept carefully boxed away, explodes inside my chest. How dare she. Smoke emanates from my scales; it’s a struggle to not shift right here.

Coach cocks his head. “Are you going to lack the necessary control? Fighters unable to control themselves are banned from future fights for a minimum of six months.”

Great. A landslide of consequences. Exhaling harshly, I ask, “What if she expects me to take it easy on her?”

“Kyrielle will be extremely insulted if you do.”

My shoulders slump. “I have no choice, then.”

“No. You really don’t.”

Looking him square in the eye, I mutter, “If I kill her by accident, I’ll destroy this entire arena with talons and teeth.”

“Then don’t kill her.”

The announcer informs the audience of the upcoming match. My upcoming match. Coach waves me forward to the door leading into the arena. “You get three elemental attacks each. Outside of that, it’s body attacks only. Choose wisely. No wings.”

The limitation of three elemental attacks calms some of my rising anxiety. But as far as I’m aware, her one elemental power is fire. Which I’m impervious to. However, I’m fairly certain she is not immune to my environmental abilities.

One way to find out.

As the door to the arena opens and the crowd roars, my body goes numb. Entering the dissociative state I’ve perfected since childhood, all of my emotions turn off, except for one.

Rage.