Page 119 of The Scars Within
I looked up, and his gaze locked onto mine, unwavering. He leaned in closer, his voice low and edged with something I couldn’t comprehend. “She chose someone else.”
His words hung between us, heavy and raw. I bit my lip, momentarily lost in the weight of his confession.
Then, I took the opening. Without hesitation, I slammed my head backward, colliding with his face.
He dropped me, and I scrambled back, putting precious distance between us. Twisting to face him, I raised my fists. We hadn’t gone over how to fist fight, but instinct took control.
Rhodes rubbed his jaw, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You’ll break your thumbs like that.”
I blinked, confused, glancing down at my fists. Before I could ask, he raised a hand—a silent truce—and then approached carefully. His fingers were firm but gentle as he readjusted my hands, tucking my thumbs safely outside my grip.
“There,” he said. Then, without warning, he knelt before me, resting his hands lightly on my hips. He turned me just slightly. “You’re right-handed. Put all your weight on your left side—set yourself up for your hardest punch.”
His hands trailed down my body to my knees, guiding them into a soft bend. When he looked up, his gray-blue eyes caught mine, a flicker of heat against the usual storm. “Knees bent. Feet planted firmly.”
I clenched my jaw, trying to focus on the adjustments instead of the heat rushing to my face from the view of Rhodes kneeling before me.
I unclenched my fists. “Now I know. What’s your favorite color?”
He stood but didn’t step back, staying just a few inches away. “Red.”
I blinked, still processing what he’d said. Of all the things he could have answered with, of all the possible colors—red. I swallowed hard, trying to fight back the confusing swirl of emotions inside me.
Rhodes has laid more cards face up today than ever before, and instead of each one revealing a part of the mystery of who he is, I’m left even more confused. My heart races with anticipation of what he’s really saying, but there’s a nagging fear that I’m reading too far into things. I could be nothing more than a naive, foolish girl, walking straight into a destructive storm, convinced I’ll live a thrilling romance—but knowing deep down, I may have been right about Rhodes coming with a devastating ending.
His face tilted, a predatory gleam flashing in his eyes. In a heartbeat, one arm wrapped around my body while the other hand tightened around my neck. He slammed us into the stone wall behind me, keeping my feet planted on the ground. My eyes widened, caught between fear andadrenaline. I could tell it was meant to be threatening; the power in his grip meant to intimidate, but instead, it felt charged with something else entirely. His knee slid between my legs, lifting me off the ground as he pressed into me, the friction and his presence igniting heat within my core. His stormy eyes bore into mine, and for the first time, I saw that look—raw, unmasked desire. It was like he was finally claiming something he’d been holding back, something I couldn’t quite name.
His eyes dropped to my lips, and the air around us seemed to thicken. Rhodes loosened his grip around my neck, his hand sliding to my chest, still pressing firmly enough to keep me in place. I knew he could feel my heartbeat hammering against my chest, but I wasn’t sure if he understood the reason behind it.
I asked my final question in a breathy whisper, “Why don’t you fight for her?”
Rhodes’s eyes flicked back to mine, his body tensed. I tried to fight back a whimper from the friction his movement caused against my legs, releasing only heavy breaths. As if sensing my reaction to him, he lowered his knee, allowing my feet to touch the ground again.
Rhodes slowly released his hold on me and pressed his forearms onto the stone wall on both sides of my head. Leaning in, his body wrapped around mine and trapped me between a hard place and an unpredictable storm.
The words came quietly from his lips, heavy with emotion. “I don’t know how to.”
His admission shook me to my core. The desire to throw my arms around him and show him exactly how to fight for her roared inside me. But that slight bit of fear stomped down on my desire, extinguishing it before I could act on it.
What if I’m not his favorite shade of red?
That insecure thought felt like a knife to my chest, but I refused to let it show. Instead, I went bold. Not breaking eye contact, I reached for the dagger at his left hip, wrapping my fingers around the hilt and pullingit free with deliberate slowness. Rhodes didn’t fight me. He let me disarm him, his eyes gleaming with pride as he watched my hand slip the dagger into the sheath on my leathers. I repeated the motion with the second dagger, honorably earning my weapons.
Rhodes opened his mouth as if to say something, but the thundering beats of wings in the air cut him off. He jumped backward, putting distance between us and leaving me standing there, pressed against the stone wall. My chest deflated from the absence of his warmth.
“Did we interrupt something?” Lakota asked.
Chapter 45
Time is running out. I’ve done everything I can to warn the Grim that Scarlet Thorne isn’t who he thinks she is, but he ignored me—sending his men to attack her during the campaign anyway. If they’d succeeded, maybe, just maybe, the Grim would have finally let me go.
Scarlet’s absence yesterday was the final nail on her coffin.
I paced the hall all day, lurking in the shadows, trying to catch him—trying to get answers. Enough is enough. I’m done being his slave, his pawn, his tool.
But he didn’t show. No one unusual entered our dorm.
It wasn’t until tonight that I realized my fate is sealed. As I settled into bed, my heart nearly stopped when I found a small note, folded with care, under my pillow.
