Page 17 of The Scars Within (Twisted Thorn #1)

One second, my head hit the pillow. The next, my tired eyes were open, and I heard our team leaders’ lovely bells banging through the hall. Whatever concoction Shayde and Rhodes consume in the mornings, I need some.

The girls and I quickly dressed and packed our bags for the day. It was officially the second week at Mageia War College and our first full week of classes.

We will continue attending Intro to Wielding classes until we channel an element, excluding Cleo. With only three more weeks until the Burn Trials, we hope the elemental surge will happen quickly for the three of us.

As we made it to the cafeteria, I snatched a quick breakfast from the buffet and carried it into the espresso station, where I expected Rhodes to be already standing there waiting on me.

I worked two shifts last week, and I must admit, having him as my mentor isn’t that bad.

We kept all conversations strictly about how to operate the station.

I was starting to understand that Rhodes just isn’t the chatty type like his brother.

After scarfing down my biscuit and sausage gravy, I went to the pantry to find my mug.

Browsing the shelves… I stopped. Where in the elements is my mug?

The cadet who worked before me said only a couple of orders were placed before I got there.

I went back out to the counter and scanned the cafeteria.

I saw a few pewter mugs in use, but not mine.

I inhaled deeply as I came to a realization.

Rhodes.

He knows what mug I drink from every morning. He probably hid it just to piss me off. This early in the morning, that isn’t hard to do. Especially when I haven’t had my cup of coffee.

I spun around, leaned back, and smacked my hands against the counter. Then, I swallowed a quick gasp of air as I locked eyes with the machines in front of me. My mug was there, under the machine I use for my brew, with a note taped to it.

Weird.

I picked it up and examined the note.

Had to run an errand for a professor. You can handle the station.

I stood there staring at the note, not knowing what to think of the gesture. Was it even a gesture? I could totally be overthinking it… but this seemed kind. A word I’ve never thought to describe Rhodes.

I shook the thought from my mind as I grabbed the sweet cream from the fridge and brewed my coffee. As it was finishing up, the order bell chimed behind me.

I looked over my shoulder, “One second, please, I’ll be right with you.”

“Or how about right now? I didn’t think your job was to make your own beverage,” Pehper snarled.

Irritation surged through my chest. This was not how I wanted to start my week. I was extremely thankful to the elements that she didn’t visit the station during my shifts last week.

I swallowed my retort and slowly turned to face her. “How can I help you?” I asked with a smile that was anything but friendly. If anyone had walked through our line of sight at that moment, they would have evaporated into ash on the spot.

“Iced vanilla latte, large.”

“Coming right up,” I mumbled, turning to find her a glass.

I brewed her espresso over ice, added the milk and vanilla spice, popped in a straw, and handed it over the counter.

Pehper took it without a thank you and walked off. I barely had time to turn around when she said, “It’s watered down.”

She held the glass towards me with her arm straight out, an evil snarl across her face.

I swallowed yet another smartass retort. “If you don’t like the watered-down taste, try cold brew. It’s brewed overnight in the fridge. It won’t melt the ice cubes like regular espresso does.”

She pretended to think over my advice. “No. I think I’ll just have you remake it.”

“Pehper, that’s a fresh latte. Let’s not waste it.”

“It’s not wasteful if it was made incorrectly,” she shrugged. “I get this drink every morning, and it’s never tasted as watery as this one does.” Her voice had a childlike pitch, making her sound like a whiny puppy.

“Oh, you should try cold brew! It’s my new favorite. It doesn’t melt the ice!” One of Pehper’s friends squeaked. I was so focused on not punching Pehper over the counter that I didn’t see Salt sneak up.

Pehper shot her a look that screamed, “ Shut the fuck up. ”

I crossed my arms and smirked. “See? Told you. I can make you a cold brew if you’d like,” I said with a soft tone.

Something in Pehper’s demeanor shifted. She walked closer to the counter and offered her drink to me.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. Can I please try the cold brew instead?” She mumbled under her breath, so her friend couldn’t hear.

I tapped my finger on my elbow, weighing my options. Pehper’s a bitch—that much I know. But maybe, just maybe, she isn’t as bad as I imagined .

“Of course,” I said, reaching for the glass. “Just give me a few moments—”

I gasped.

Pehper tilted the drink towards me, letting it slip from her grip. The entire beverage poured down my tunic and pants. I hadn’t taken a moment to tie on my apron yet this morning.

I stood there, arm frozen mid-reach, jaw dropped, and eyes closed. I looked down to see the ice-cold liquid soaking through my clothes, then back up at Pehper.

“Oops,” she grinned, not remotely sorry.

My skin felt icy cold, but my blood boiled. How dare I let my guard down, even for a second? I was about to leap over the counter and crack the empty glass over her head when the sound of the swinging door at the espresso station stole my attention.

Shayde rushed in with dish towels, presumably grabbed from the cafeteria crew, and started wiping my arms.

“Fuck off, Pehper!” he growled.

She gave me a wink and strolled off, tossing her bright red braid over her shoulder.

My vision turned crimson. My anger boiled so hot I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. I wasn’t sure if I was even breathing.

Cool hands cupped my face as Shayde tilted my chin up to meet his dark brown eyes.

“You okay, Scar?”

I exhaled, not realizing I’d been holding my breath.

“Yeah. Fine.”

“Why do I sense that’s a lie?” His eyes deepened, still cupping my face.

The intimate feeling of his touch instantly soothed me.

As brothers, Shayde and Rhodes look similar, except for their eye and hair color.

Both have a strong jawline and full lips.

Their eyes share the same shape, but being this close to Shayde, I noticed he has a slightly crooked nose as if it has been broken before.

I closed my eyes, trying to steady myself.

“Look at me,” he demanded.

I furrowed my brows but opened my eyes.

“Don’t waste your energy on Pehper. She’s a toxin in human form. Anything she says or does isn’t about you—it’s about her own insecurities.”

I stood there, stunned into silence. My mouth opened to say something, but I closed it again.

“Did you pack extra clothes for today?” he asked.

I shook my head, feeling the burn of tears in my eyes. A wave of frustration and worry hit me. “No. And I can’t be late for another class. I can’t be removed from the—”

Shayde let go of my face and took hold of my hands. “Come on,” he said with a reassuring wink, leading me out of the station.

Shayde and I fled the cafeteria, his hand wrapped warmly around mine as we skittered down the hall.

“In here, quick,” he whispered, glancing over his shoulder. He led me into a narrow space in the wall, deeper than an alcove but not quite a room. There was no door, just an open space for us to slip through.

Shayde shrugged off his pack and rummaged through it, pulling out a tunic and breeches. “Here, you can borrow these,” he said, handing me the bundle that smelled of citrusy bergamot and spice.

I looked down at the clothes and shook my head. “Those will be way too big on me.”

“Oh, are you commenting on my figure?” He grinned.

“I—no,” I laughed nervously .

“Take them. You don’t have time to run to your chambers and change. The size will be fine for a day.”

Realizing time was running out, I nodded. Shayde turned around, clasping his hands behind his back, his shoulders nearly touching both sides of the opening.

“Change. I’ll keep watch,” he said, beginning to whistle.

I dropped the bundle and grabbed the hem of my tunic, peeling the soaked fabric off my skin and over my head. It fell with a wet thud behind me. Shayde’s whistling grew louder.

I untied my breeches and shimmied out of them, realizing my undergarments were also soaked. I slid both down and stepped out of the bundled clothing at my ankles.

Slipping on the tunic and breeches, I found myself swallowed whole by the oversized clothes. I tapped Shayde on the shoulder. He turned around, his eyes trailing my body from bottom to top, where I was definitely giving him an unamused look.

He tried to contain his laughter.

“This is not funny!” I smacked his chest.

“I’m not laughing. I’m not laughing. Hang on,” he said, unfastening his belt.

“What in the elements are you doing?” I whisper-yelled.

Shayde wrapped his belt around me and bundled the tunic hem. “Hold this,” he instructed.

I pressed my lips together but did as he said. He slid the belt through the breeches’ loops and began tying it like a rope when he found no tight enough hole for my waist. Then, he gathered the excess tunic material and knotted it at the side.

“There. Looks great,” he patted my shoulders.

I had to give it to him—he knew how to think on his feet. I couldn’t help but let a side grin escape.

“Thank you,” I said softly .

“No problem,” he replied. Shayde held his pinky between us, “Promise you won’t let anyone ruin the rest of your day?”

My cheeks flushed. I felt the corners of my lips trying to form into a grin, but for some reason, I fought it. Not wanting to show my vulnerability to him.

I wrapped my pointer finger around his pinky, and we shook on it, “Pinky.”

With the hold of his pinky, he tugged me closer. I craned my neck to look up at him.

Shayde lifted his chin slightly, his hooded brown eyes bearing into mine.

“Now, off to class. Before your team leader catches you without a hall pass,” his deep voice was amorous.

As he stepped backward into the hallway, a question absentmindedly rolled off my tongue, “Hey, how do you know so much about Pehper and her tactics?”

Shayde paused, seeming to weigh his answer. I second-guessed my question for a moment, thinking it might be too personal.

Then he responded, and his words hit me like a sharp sting in the chest, “She’s my ex.”

I ran to Intro to Air Wielding and made it just in time. Everyone was already seated, but I managed to slip into my chair right as Professor Skuttlezwagon entered the room. Trying to catch my breath, I glanced over at Laney, who was giving me a look I had never seen from her before.

“What?” I whispered.

She looked down at my bundled tunic and knotted belt. “You are not how I left you this morning,” she whispered-yelled.

“I’ll tell you later,” I said, nodding toward the front of the class .

Skuttlezwagon stood tall, her hands clasped in front of her. When the cadets didn’t quiet down completely, she raised her fingers and snapped. The sound was the loudest snap I had ever heard, piercing my eardrums.

“Thank you, class,” she said. “I hope you enjoyed that brief demonstration of how an air elemental can manipulate the swoosh of air between their fingers to amplify the resulting sound.” She grinned as most of the cadets covered their ears.

“Today will be exciting! We will be watching the second-years practice on the Doom Simulator–” she stopped and pointed at a cadet who had raised their hand.

“Why is it called a Doom Simulator?” The cadet asked.

“Because if you make a mistake, you will fall to your doom. And you all will get the chance to practice on it!” She exclaimed as she hurried out into the open-roofed space of the classroom.

Laney and I immediately faced each other, eyes wide with surprise.