Page 11 of The Scars Within (Twisted Thorn #1)

Mornings were never my thing, especially after staying up too late, nose-deep in a book. Laney and I had been up until the early hours, engrossed in our novels from the library. She wasn’t wrong—I am really enjoying the female lead.

Today, we’ll be attending Intro to Water Wielding and History of Warfare.

It’s also the first day of our work assignments, which I am surprisingly excited about.

The mere thought of a hot cup of coffee had me springing out of bed, throwing on my clothes, and heading to the bathing chambers to freshen up.

With my hair brushed and teeth scrubbed, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror—my hazel eyes staring back at me.

Usually, I don’t care much about how I look, but today, for some reason, I felt the need to appear at least somewhat put together.

My wavy brown hair is cut to a medium length, and I reached behind to braid it down my back.

As I reached up and behind my head with my arms, I noticed another random bruise under my right elbow.

I made my way to the bustling cafeteria and headed straight for the espresso station.

A second-year cadet who had worked the station last year is supposed to show me the ropes for the first few weeks.

After that, I’ll be on my own. As I grabbed an apron off the rack, I spotted my trainer from the corner of my eye.

Tying it around my waist, I called out, “I’m here.”

“You’re late.”

The tone startled me—I was only five minutes late. I turned to respond but froze when I met his striking gray-blue eyes.

Rhodes. Just my luck.

“Only five minutes,” I said, snapping back at him. No way was he going to make me feel incompetent today.

“Five minutes too late, Thorne. Do you know when most people like to get their coffee?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“First thing in the morning. How will they get their coffee first thing if no one’s here to make it?” His voice dripped with sarcasm.

Rhodes, sarcastic? Of course. Why wouldn’t he be the last cadet I’d want as a mentor? Why had he even chosen this assignment the previous year? Maybe he didn’t have a choice.

“Won’t happen again. Just leave me some notes on how this station runs. I’ve got plenty of experience making coffee and lattes—I can handle it.”

“You may have experience, but you don’t have experience here,” he said, wiping his hands of coffee grounds. “So no, you’re stuck with me for a few weeks. Try not to be a thorn in my side, and we won’t have any problems.”

Thorn in his side? Did he just throw a pun at me?

I narrowed my eyes. It’s only a few weeks. I’ve survived worse. Maybe I could even impress him with my skills and get him off my back.

I washed and dried my hands before asking, “Mr. Rhodes, may I make myself a cup of coffee before we start?”

Rhodes gave me a narrow-eyed look before nodding toward the coffee machines. I started the drip coffee pot and loaded a fresh linen filter with coffee grounds. Rhodes called from the pantry as I lined everything up to brew.

“Here.”

I turned to see him sticking his arm out of the pantry, holding a white mug.

“No, not that one,” I said, making my way to the pantry filled with mugs and glasses.

I slipped in without thinking about how narrow the space was.

The moment I entered, I caught a hint of cashmere sandalwood and vanilla.

Rhodes stood barely a foot from me, and the dim light cast shadows across his face.

After experiencing him being an asshole yesterday, the last thing I want to admit to myself is how beautiful he is.

But I can’t help but look up at him, his eyes locked on mine.

The air around us stills with tension, and my heart begins to beat a little faster.

Apprehension sets in, and I avert my gaze.

We moved in unison, him turning toward the back as I faced the shelves. Scanning the rows of mugs, I spotted the one from initiation day on the top shelf.

“That one,” I pointed, glancing over my shoulder.

I figured he’d help me reach it, given our height difference. But instead, he turned and walked out.

Seriously?

“Rhodes,” I called as frustration bubbled up.

“What?” he asked, appearing in the doorway with his hands casually in his pockets.

I didn’t say a word. I just kept pointing at the mug and maintained eye contact. A few seconds of silence passed before I realized he was intentionally making this difficult.

Sighing, I asked, “Why can’t you just grab it? I’m too short without a stool.”

“You didn’t ask.”

Of course, that was his reasoning.

I gritted my teeth and mumbled, “Can you grab it for me? ”

“Say please,” he replied, and I could swear I saw him fighting back a grin.

My hands dropped to my sides, balling into fists as my nails dug into my skin.

“Is there a step stool?” I asked, trying not to snap.

“Nope.”

This man was actually going to make me say please for a coffee mug. I took a deep breath through my nose and exhaled slowly.

“Can you please grab the mug for me?” I said, my voice rough.

“Oh yeah, sure,” Rhodes smirked as he stepped closer, easily reaching the mug. He lowered it to eye level and dipped his chin. “All you had to do was ask, Thorne.”

I snatched the mug and brushed past him, rolling my eyes as I did.

“She’s a prickly thorn today,” he muttered behind me.

I spun around, ready to fire back, but the words caught in my throat. I can’t figure him out. One moment, he is threatening my position here at Mageia. And the next, he seems tolerable, almost enjoyable, to be around.

Rhodes cleared his throat, crossed his arms, and walked out, brushing my shoulder as he passed.

“Let’s get started.”

The morning went about as smoothly as it could. Rhodes switched into full teacher mode, walking me through the coffee machines step by step. I had a general idea of how they worked, but these were definitely fancier than the ones I was used to.

I also learned about the smaller appliances on the counter.

One can heat milk in under a minute, powered by the college’s fire-wielding faculty.

Another turns milk into frothy foam, which Rhodes explained is for lattes and other specialty drinks made with espresso shots.

The last one, an instant chiller, was something I’d never seen before.

It is for customers who prefer their coffee iced.

To my surprise, Rhodes managed to get through the entire lesson without a hint of sarcasm or the usual condescension.

He took all the orders while my sole focus was learning how to operate each machine.

The hours flew by, and I may have made myself an extra coffee to keep my energy up.

I offered to brew one for Rhodes, but he declined.

We were finishing up when Rhodes spoke. “Nice job today. See you tomorrow.” He grabbed his pack and left without waiting for a response.

Well, then.

I shrugged, filled my water jug, and slung my pack over my shoulder.

As I was leaving the cafeteria, I ran into some cadets from my faction who were also headed to Intro to Water Wielding.

We were able to find where the class is held.

It wasn’t a classroom or a fenced-in forest like yesterday’s classes.

This environment is half inside and half outside.

And I caught– by eavesdropping– that it is often referred to as the Sanctuary.

Being the only exit from the northern part of the college, the Sanctuary’s entrance is always heavily guarded. Once the guards approved us and allowed us entry, I spotted Laney and Tatum in the crowd. I shimmied my way over to them and followed behind the rest of our faction.

The Sanctuary was so mesmerizing that it didn’t seem real.

The inside section of the area is like a dark cave with a walkway through the hot springs on either side.

You can see the steam radiating off the water even during the hotter season because the cave itself keeps the air cool.

We walked along the path, intertwining with the springs, until our professor stopped and turned toward us.

“Welcome… to Intro to Water Wielding.” The professor said as she slowly waved her arms in swirling motions.

“I am Professor Scrivens, and I am delighted to have you here with me this year.” Her voice was light and airy.

She stood tall with long blonde hair and a whimsical personality.

“We will begin by dipping our feet into the water to see if any of you sense the magical connection within your souls. Come, come! Remove your boots and find a seat along the edge of the springs. We must not make the water spirits wait any longer to find new hosts!” Professor Scrivens exclaimed as she tugged off her boots and skipped on her tiptoes to the spring.

She sat down on the rocks and submerged her feet in the water.

She closed her eyes, tossed her head back, and let out a long sigh.

She opened her eyes to see that none of the cadets had moved. “Put your damn feet in the water,” she said with a snap of her fingers and pointed down to the hot springs.

With that, we all began to remove our boots. One by one, we found a spot around the hot spring and joined her. The water was incredibly hot but not scalding. We all sat there in silence.

And more silence.

And more.

“Do you feel it?” Professor Scrivens asked. “The emotional pull from your entire being to the water?”

None of us made a sound.

As soon as I was about to ask a question, someone sitting across the spring from me splashed into the water.

It was a male cadet that I hadn’t come to know yet.

He jumped up from the water, wiping the wet hair away from his eyes, and started to cough out the water he accidentally inhaled. His face flushed with embarrassment.

Scrivens clapped with joy, “Well! That is one way to do it!”