Page 187 of Knight’s Retribution

Luna tilted her head, taking her in. “What’s going on?”

Kyler turned to her friend, her sister, and made herself say the words because she didn’t want to feel like this anymore, and telling Rocco wasn’t an option. Her mate thought she was healing, was happy, was getting better, and she was, but there was also this other part of her, and if she told Roc, he’d worry all over again.

Kyler drew in a breath and released it. “I’m angry, Luna. Not just, ‘oh, I’m pissed, let’s eat a gallon of ice cream or punch a cushion’ angry. I’m angry. The kind of anger that corrodes you over time until all you want to do is scream. What was done to me…what Diemos…” She clenched her teeth and took in another slow breath. “What he did…I want to let it go, I need to let it go, but I can’t. I’ve never felt more powerless in my life, and that feeling is still there. I wake in a cold sweat at night, every night, and for a moment, I’m still in Hell, the Rocco lying beside me is not my Rocco but Diemos playing dress-up, and then I get angry.” She looked down at her fingers curled into tight fists, then back up. “I don’t know what to do with it, and I haven’t told Roc because it will upset him and he’s been through enough, we’ve both been through enough.”

Luna straightened. “You’re allowed to be angry, Ky. You should be, but you’re right, it will eat you up if you don’t do something about it. Training, finding your inner strength, will help, it did me, but sometimes you just need to beat the shit out of something.” She waved her forward. “Let’s go.”

Kyler followed Luna through the gym and into another room off to the side. There were some free weights scattered around, and also a couple of leather punching bags hanging from the ceiling.

“You want me to hit that?” Kyler asked.

“Yep.” Luna moved to the side of the room, where there were a bunch of gloves stacked on a shelf against the wall. “I do it when the past tries to creep up on me or when I’m letting things get on top of me…or if I just need to let off some steam.” She held a set of gloves toward Kyler. “Put these on.”

Kyler did as she asked, because at this point she’d try anything. “You sure I’m not going to break my hand? That bag looks kinda hard.”

“You’ll be fine. I’ll give you a couple pointers, show you how to throw a punch.” Luna winked. “Then let you go at it.”

“I’m game.” If Kyler could get her emotions, her anger under control without having to involve Rocco, she was going to try.

Luna put some gloves on as well and stood in front of the bag, showing her the best stance, how to position her body, then gave her a demonstration. Jabs, a right hook, left hook, an uppercut, and a couple basic combinations, then stepped back. “Now you try. Do a couple practice hits first, without any power behind them.”

Kyler did as she said, coming in slowly, making sure her stance was right.

Luna grinned. “Perfect. Now for the best results, you need the right music. Something to pump you up.” She yanked off her gloves, pulled her phone from her pocket, and hit the screen several times.

The sound of someone rapidly hitting drums filled the room instantly, then a bass and electric guitar joined in. A voice roared through the speakers, resonating through the smaller space, their rage-filled words hitting Kyler in the gut. She felt it, their anger, and it pulled on her own, drawing it forward.

Luna turned it up and stood behind the bag to keep it steady. Kyler sucked in a deep breath, drew back her fist, and hit it. There was barely any impact, but she’d held back, making sure she was doing it right. Luna nodded, encouraging her to go again.

Kyler let the music sink deeper inside her, let it pull the anger and the humiliation and the pain from deep inside her, let it fill her heart and pump through her veins. Her heart beat faster and her muscles felt tight. She hit the bag again, harder, and it shuddered on its chain, knocking Luna back a step.

“Again,” Luna yelled over the music, planting her feet.

The feeling building inside her kept growing and growing, and she had to release it, had to get it out. With a growl, she slammed her fist into the leather, then again, and again. The feeling in her continued to grow, and the only way to release it was to hit that goddamn bag. Vaguely she noticed Luna move away, disappearing behind her, but Kyler couldn’t stop. It wasn’t just a piece of cowhide filled with sand anymore, it was Diemos, it was Taren, it was the disgusting demons who had snatched her from her home and dragged her into that filthy alley.

An image of Rocco that day filled her mind, his face, his horror, his terror and rage when he’d realized it was her the demons had, that it was her they were about to rip from her life and drag to Hell.

After they pulled her through, they stood there, behind the shimmering portal, and made her watch as Rocco tried to cut himself, to cut out his angel brand, something she hadn’t known at the time. She could do nothing but watch as his brothers jumped on him, stopping him from coming after her, to save his life.

The anguish on his face, she’d seen it all before the portal closed and he was lost to her.

The fear.

God, the indescribable fear.

She roared as well, giving the man screaming through the speakers a run for his money, and kept hitting, kept punching.

“No!” she screamed. “No.” Never again.

No one would scare her, hurt her like that ever again. No one would make her doubt the male she loved, like Diemos had tried so hard to do. God, trying to make her believe that he’d hurt her.

Her screams and growls blended with her sobs, but she didn’t stop, she couldn’t stop—

Arms banded around her, and she was pulled back.

“No!” she screamed. “Don’t touch me!”

“Kyler,” a rough voice said against her ear. “Baby, it’s me, it’s Rocco. Don’t fight me, Ky. I need you to stop fighting me.”