Page 53 of The Scars Within
“And how is it more fantasy than what I’m reading?”
“You’ll understand when you get closer to the end. This one has faeries, more magical properties, and bat wings.”
“Faeries?”
“Yes, fae,” he replied dryly.
“And bat wings?”
“Yes, most of the guys do. They’re badass.”
I stood there, too stunned to respond. Rhodes, who is the complete opposite of his brother, spends his free time reading—particularly fantasy novels about men with wings. It shouldn’t surprise me, but it does. It contrasts sharply with the burly, brick-wall image of Rhodes I have in my mind.
“And it’s a lot dirtier than that,” Rhodes said, tilting his head toward the book I was holding.
“What do you mean by ‘dirtier’?”
He didn’t answer immediately but let a mischievous smirk curl at one side of his lips. Stepping closer, the faint scent of cashmere sandalwood and vanilla brushed against me. He began tossing his book casually from hand to hand.
In an instant, his demeanor shifted. He tilted his head slightly, as if concentrating on something only he could hear, then started walking backward. Catching my gaze again, he said, “Be careful out on leave.”
“I’ll be here,” I replied, puzzled by the abrupt change in the conversation.
His brows knitted as if my response was peculiar, but then turned to descend the main staircase.
I absentmindedly walked to the rail, watching him race around the weeping willow.
Once he landed on the bottom floor, he looked up and caught me staring. I jumped away from the rail as my breath was knocked out of me with nerves.
“Stop being a weirdo, Scarlet!” I whisper-yelled to myself, speed walking to a corner staircase with exaggerated emphasis.
I finished my afternoon coffee hours ago, and the sun was beginning to set behind the mountains of Dragon Valley. I had been up on the rooftop reading for so long that dusk was my only clue to the passing time. With no class, no work, and no one to entertain, feeling invisible had its advantages. I have already finished half of my book, with the peaceful outdoor sounds being the perfect ambiance. It is still as hot as the fire element outside, but I had found a shaded spot on the roof to sprawl out. I removed my leather jacket and used it as a pillow. The heat will only intensify as the days go by, leading up to the Burn Trials. After that, autumn—my favorite time of year—will finally arrive.
I was startled by the sound of the iron door creaking open and sat up, curious to see who was intruding on my ‘me’ time. The door slammed shut, and Rhodes stepped onto the rooftop. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows, highlighting the sharp angles of his face and the determined set of his jaw. He scanned the rooftop with a practiced gaze as if he already knew which spots would be shaded at this time of day. His eyes landed on me, and a wry smile tugged at his lips.
“I should’ve known you’d take the best spot,” he murmured teasingly.
I responded to his playful manner as if it were second nature and waved a hand across the space. “I didn’t see your name on it.”
“I never thought I’d need to put my name on it since nobody comes up here. But now, thanks to you, I’ll have to bring paint next time.”
“You wouldn’t,” I laughed softly.
“Try me,” he replied, his closed-lip smile widened enough to reveal that he also has dimples, just like Shayde. I’ve never seen him smile strongly enough for them to show before.
It was... cute.
He’s cute.
Catching myself mid-daydream—his stupid dimples pulling me in—I shook my head to clear those thoughts. Just earlier today, I was kissing his brother.
These Wylder brothers are truly going to be the death of me.
Rhodes walked closer to me and dropped his bag at my feet. I raised my head in question, but then he removed his jacket, tossing it on the bag.
“What in the elements are you doing?” I asked.
He cocked his head. “This is my spot."
