I would give Mikhail credit. He knew what he meant when he said I could not take on Calla and win. The woman fought hard, she fought dirty and she fought well. I felt my strength wane as she kicked over her smoking cauldron of unknown herbs. Various herbs fell out of the blackened pot and I tried hard to step over rather than on them.
Calla fought hard and well. With the precision of a woman who had fought a hundred times, unfortunately for her, she relied too much on her magic. Magic that bounced off my skin as it would a black dragon. She fought well but my very skin repelled her magical moves.
She fought with rage well matched against the burning I felt in my guts at her audacity, her plan to hurt Mikhail.
Thinking of her holding his beating heart over his lifeless body filled me
