Syn lunged, his shoulder slamming into Ila's chest, tackling her to the ground, his weight pinning her for a moment, his fists pounding her ribs, each blow fueled by his torment.
Ila's muscles tensed, her body unyielding, and she bucked, throwing Syn off, her strength monstrous.
She rolled to her feet, her black hair wild, and kicked Syn's side, her boot connecting with a sickening thud, pain exploding through his ribs, his breath catching as he curled inward.
Mia attacked, her fists a blur, landing a rapid series of jabs to Ila's face—one to her cheek, another to her jaw, a third grazing her nose, blood trickling from Ila's nostril.
Ila snarled, her hand shooting out, grabbing Mia's throat, her fingers tightening, lifting Mia off the ground, Mia's pale eyes wide, her hands clawing at Ila's wrist, her legs kicking uselessly.
