Page 29 of The Scars Within (Twisted Thorn #1)

I waited a few minutes after Rhodes disappeared down the turret before hurrying back to my dorm. He didn’t mention what to wear to the tavern, leaving me unsure of how to prepare for the night. As I entered the castle, the cool air was a relief against my skin.

My leathers felt glued to my skin. Stripping them off was no easy task, but I managed, refreshing myself with a touch of Cleo’s fragrance oil.

I slipped into a clean pair of taupe breeches and a cream tunic.

My top was cinched at the waist, giving me curves in all the right places, with a v-neckline that struck the perfect balance between modesty and revealing.

I quickly checked on Jeffery. His stems were all a rich green, flourishing on the windowsill.

Cleo’s plant was definitely thriving more than ours, and we have been teasing her about using her element to boost its health.

But she insists that earth wielders just have a greener thumb than most. I dipped my finger in Jeffery’s soil to check if he needed water.

After wiping the soil off my finger with my dirty leathers, I slipped on my boots. I didn’t even attempt to fix my hair; this mess would take way too long, and I needed to start heading down to the stables. Thankfully, it was already braided down my back.

My breath caught .

The stables.

Oh no, oh no, oh no .

I closed my eyes, inhaled deeply, held it for five seconds, and slowly exhaled. With my hand over my chest, I could feel my heart straining to beat out of my chest.

I’m okay.

I’m safe.

I dashed out the door. There was an unusual spring in my step, but I couldn’t help it—I was genuinely excited to see whatever tavern he had in mind. And to go there with him.

Rhodes.

I instantly stopped on the steps. Should I be doing this? I was just kissing Shayde. His brother. His twin.

I turned and started going back upstairs.

But do I technically owe Shayde anything? We aren’t exclusive. We just kissed. Okay, maybe we have kissed a lot in the past few days. I’ve had a fun time. But still.

I’m an adult.

I’m a single adult.

And I’m in the process of piecing myself back together.

As I turned and headed back downstairs, I steeled myself with a single, unwavering thought: go with Rhodes. No ifs, ands, or buts. I repeated it over and over in my mind until I reached the stables.

The moment I stepped foot inside, my mind went blank.

Rhodes was in a stall with a beautiful brown mare, gently petting her muzzle.

The stables were dimly lit, with only a few sconces flickering on the walls.

A warm, cozy light was cast across the hay-strewn floor.

I don’t think he heard me walk in because he didn’t stir.

I took the moment to admire him before making my presence known.

The moment didn’t last long because the mare called me out. Her ears perked up, alerting my presence, and Rhodes glanced over his shoulder. Even in the dim light, I could detect the shock written on his face. Did he not expect me to show up?

He opened the stall and led the horse toward the stable doors, where I stood rooted in place.

“Ready?” Rhodes asked, his voice steady.

My eyes darted between him and the horse. This is the closest I’ve been to one since… the stampede.

Rhodes gently placed a hand on the horse’s neck, his brows knitting together with concern as he noticed my hesitation. “Everything okay?”

I sucked in a sharp breath. “Yes.”

“You don’t seem okay.”

“I’m fine,” I stressed.

Rhodes tilted his head slightly, his gaze softening just like before. “She’s a very calm ride,” he assured me, his voice gentle and reassuring. I nodded in response. He stepped closer, holding out his hand.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I snapped, “I can mount a horse.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Oh, I’m sure you can. But Dahlia is taller than most, and you’re—”

“I’m what?” I cut him off.

“Short,” he said wryly.

“I am not that short.”

He huffed a laugh. “What are you? Like five-foot-four?”

I narrowed my eyes. He was right on the money, but I wasn’t about to give him that satisfaction. “And a half.”

“And a half?”

“Yes,” I replied, turning my chin up defiantly.

Rhodes grinned, biting his bottom lip to suppress a chuckle. He stepped back, gesturing toward Dahlia with a playful wave.

I inhaled deeply and looked at the beautiful mare.

I haven’t been on horseback in years, not since long before I was taken.

Even on my journey to Mageia, I avoided the public transportation provided, leaving my home village weeks earlier than most cadets and making the entire journey on foot.

Now, as I stood here, my stomach twisted into a thousand knots.

I closed my eyes, trying to steady my nerves.

My next inhale was filled with the calming scent of cashmere sandalwood and vanilla.

When I opened my eyes again, I saw Rhodes holding out his hand to me once more.

Swallowing my pride, I placed my hand in his.

He pulled me closer and pivoted my body to face the saddle.

His hands settled on my hips, and I could feel his warmth as he stepped closer, towering over me slightly.

There was barely an inch of space between us.

“Grab the pommel and place your boot in the stirrup. I won’t let you fall,” he whispered, his warm breath grazing my neck and sending chills down my spine. I shuddered.

Signal of safety.

Or lure of a trap?

Rhodes’s hand trailed down my side until his hand wrapped around mine.

He lifted it, guiding it to rest on the pommel.

His other hand tightened on my waist. And with one smooth motion, he lifted me onto the saddle without letting me go.

He looked up at me in silent question before removing his hands from my body. I nodded.

I adjusted myself on the saddle as he pulled himself up to sit behind me. My body molded into his, fitting perfectly. The sensitive spot between my thighs was pressed tightly against the curve of the saddle. And every minor move he made as he settled in made me want to squirm.

He leaned into my ear. “Comfortable?”

“Yep,” I squeaked.

He grasped the reins with one hand, his other arm wrapping around my waist as if to fulfill his promise of not letting me fall. He nudged Dahlia forward as his hold on me grew firm.

As we left the college grounds, Dahlia walked at a slow, steady pace that would be easy enough for a child to manage. Despite the gentle movement, Rhodes’s protective hold on my waist never wavered.

After a few miles, I finally asked, “Where are we going? ”

“The tavern,” his voice dropped.

I shot him a sideways glance over my shoulder.

His lips quirked into a grin, revealing a hint of his teeth. “You didn’t ask which tavern.”

I turned back to face forward, feeling a flicker of annoyance but keeping my mouth shut—surprisingly.

Rhodes cleared his throat, and I felt the rumble of his chest against my back.

“It’s in a small village between Mageia and Jysper,” he explained.

I didn’t mention that I knew Jysper was his hometown.

“I used to help out the owner there before I was accepted into the war college. It’s not as rough as some other taverns I’ve seen. This one’s run by a good man.”

We rode silently for a few minutes when Rhodes tapped me twice on the side of my head with his finger. “Yes?” I asked, confused.

“You didn’t have a response.”

Throwing his earlier words back at him, “You didn’t ask me for a response.”

He threw his head back and laughed—a deep, genuine sound. I’d heard him chuckle before, but this was the first time I’d heard him truly laugh. It was contagious, spreading from him to me. I let go of any restraint and joined in, laughing with him.

I laughed so hard that my eyes were nearly shut, and I almost missed the older man passing us on the cobblestone path.

He looked to be in his fifties, and as he rode by on his horse, he gave us a look that clearly said we were two weirdos laughing at nothing while riding down an empty road. And honestly, I’m sure it did look odd.

I wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes, blinking until my vision cleared. Tall sconce poles dimly lighted the path, each casting a soft glow every ten feet.

I broke the silence. “What was life like before Mageia?”

He took a moment before answering, “Not much different than it is now. Every generation in our family has attended the war college. It was never really a choice. ”

His voice carried a hint of something—less pride and more…resentment. I mulled that over for a second. “If you did have a choice, would you still have joined Mageia?”

“Probably not. Shayde would, though.”

His response took me back to what Shayde said about Rhodes choosing a path that he didn’t agree with. Could that be what Rhodes would be doing if he wasn’t enrolled at Mageia?

I took the opportunity to pry. “You don’t seem close with your brother.”

He cleared his throat, the soft rumble from his chest vibrating against my back.

His grip on my waist tightened slightly before he finally replied, “Our father treated us differently. Shayde was always the golden child. For me… more was expected. And no matter how hard I’ve tried, it never feels like enough. ”

I could resonate with that feeling. Recalling what Shayde had mentioned about their marekem , I decided to dive deeper now that Rhodes was opening up.

“What’s it like to share a marekem bond with someone?

I’d worry there’d never be a private moment for either of you.

” I faked a small laugh, trying to ease the intensity of the question.