He was so strong, so powerful, that a direct blow from him to my head would certainly crush my skull. When he swung his fist at me, I knew then, I was a dead woman.
So I waited, with my eyes closed, for the impact, assuming my world would fade away soon. Rowan’s sweet face was all I saw before my eyes.
But rather than feeling the direct impact of Ethan’s fist to my head, instead, I felt a rain of debris—bark, leaves, small twigs—as Ethan instead made contact with a large elm tree I was standing next to.
His rageful battle cry rang out around me as the splintered wood hit me in the face and shoulder. I raised my arms to shield my face and waited for the storm to pass.
When I opened my eyes again, the tree was demolished. A large chunk of it was missing on the far side, and the trunk was bent backward like it would topple over any second.
