Page 49 of Stealing Embers

Those few moments are glorious.

With the fluidity of a born hunter, Steel flips me onto my back and tries to subdue me with his entire form.

Not happening.

I use my whole body and every bit of strength I have to attack. Whatever I can move becomes a weapon. My nails and teeth are daggers, my arms and legs battering rams.

Rearing up under him like a person possessed, I try to throw him off. I wiggle, buck, hit, and kick as if my life depends on it.

Steel growls curses under his breath as he struggles to subdue the beast I’ve morphed into.

I noticed the sheen of sweat coating his face with a healthy bit of satisfaction.

After some fumbling on his part, his hands capture my wrists and hold them tight. Then he rears back, pulling my upper body off the mat before slamming me down.

My brain rattles around in my skull, but the fight in me doesn’t abate.

“Cut it out!” he roars.

Several angry slashes on his face leak blood.

Good, I’ve left a mark.

His body shifts above me as he traps my arms over my head.

I smile to myself. Perfect alignment.

Focusing all my energy on my leg, I jam my knee up into the junction between Steel’s legs.

His body freezes.

No cup? Tsk tsk, Angel Boy.

I watch with satisfaction as his face turns red and he slumps onto me with a groan.

Shoving his weight off, I lumber to my feet. It’s only then I notice how incredibly silent the gym has become.

Scanning the area, I realize all surrounding activity has stopped. The other Nephilim—teachers as well as students—watched our display.

My classmates are on their feet. Most of the guys are grimacing, their faces a picture of sympathetic agony as they watch Steel roll around on the floor. Some even have their hands cupped over their fronts, protecting themselves from a phantom attack.

The girls’ faces are a mix of satisfied smirks, wide eyes, and gaping mouths.

I curl my shoulders forward out of habit and bring a hand to my head to scratch an imaginary itch.

My hair is a mess. Half of it has fallen out of the ponytail and the other half is ratted like a raccoon has been nesting up there for the winter.

I thought I was embarrassed before. That was nothing.

The weight of a hundred pairs of eyes causes me to shrink into myself even more.

Why are they all staring? Is it really that surprising someone dared to defy the mighty Steel? Or have these supremely sheltered angel kids never seen someone fight dirty?

Certainly, they’ve all seen a girl knee a guy in the family jewels before.

Is it admirable?

Not really.