Page 40 of The Scars Within (Twisted Thorn #1)

“We kicked their sorry elemental asses!” Laney cheered as we raced off the field. Our second Arcane Battle Simulation was this morning, and I was put in a team with Laney again. But this time, we had our elements.

Although we were shit at channeling them.

Tatum and Cleo welcomed us on the sidelines with high fives.

All four of us have earned visitation leave this weekend again.

But the privilege comes with conditions.

Any cadet leaving for the weekend has to use the transportation provided by the college, with military officers accompanying the wagons for extra protection.

Our team was the last of the first-years, but we all decided to watch more of the simulations since we didn’t have classes for the rest of the day.

Cleo pulled buttered corn pops out of her bag as second-year cadets took the field.

Shayde was huddled with his team, laying out a game plan with pure determination.

“Oh, heeeey, boot-scootin’-boogier!” Laney sang, looking over my shoulder.

I turned to see Rhodes walking toward us, wearing his leather belt with flags for the simulation. His cheeks flushed from Laney’s witty comment, a clear sign that her humor was not lost on him .

I widened my eyes at her in an attempt to sear into her soul that she needed to shut her mouth.

She shrugged.

I turned to Rhodes, who was adjusting his belt, and puckered my lips to suppress my laugh.

Pointing to my ear, I murmured, “You have a little... flour. Right here.”

Rhodes glared daggers at me before running his hand through his hair and walking onto the field.

Laney wiggled her brows at me before turning back around.

Shayde and Rhodes were on the same team, battling against Davis and other elementals I haven’t met.

An Arcane Battle Simulation between second-years was completely different than first-years.

These cadets were much more experienced in channeling their elements and working alongside other elementals.

Professor Reynoski fired a horn and the simulation was on. Bolts of flames soared back and forth amid thorny vines shooting from the ground and gushes of water to drown out the fire. Everything happened so quickly that I could barely keep up.

But my eyes focused on the Wylder boys, who fought beside each other.

For twins who don’t utilize their marekem , they work in sync in total harmony.

Rhodes and Shayde kept a steady torrent of flames as a barrier between the teams. Cadets are not allowed to purposefully cause bodily harm to others in these simulations, so fire elementals must show a strong sense of control.

I couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly Rhodes and Shayde wielded their fire, each movement a dance of controlled chaos.

I am over the elements grateful that I channeled air, but a slight tinge of jealousy flickers in my chest. Their fire element is magnificent—a fire that burns hot and bright enough to command the very world around it.

I was jolted out of my trance when an air elemental charged at the boys. He surged through their flames with a shield of swirling wind, the fire bending and twisting around him like a sideways tornado. In one swift motion, he ambushed them, leveling Shayde with a brutal right hook.

I gasped.

Shayde hit the ground hard, and before he could recover, Rhodes sprang into action, hurling himself at the air elemental with a ferocity that matched the roaring fire still blazing around them.

They grappled, rolling across the ground in a tangle of limbs until Rhodes gained the upper hand.

Pinning the air elemental beneath him, he unleashed a barrage of punches, each landing with brutal precision.

Blood splattered onto the grass, dark and stark against the green.

Rhodes’s eyes were pure, lethal fury—a storm of utter destruction.

He flicked his eyes toward his brother, then back down at the bloodied elemental beneath him, his fist still poised in the air. His snarl dropped. In an instant, his entire demeanor shifted, the wild fury in his expression tempered by something deeper—something restrained.

But even from the sidelines, I could see it. It took every ounce of willpower he had to wrestle control of himself, to pull back from the edge of indignation that still lingered in his clenched fist.

The distraction cost him.

The elemental seized the opportunity, trapping Rhodes’s arm and pinning it to his chest while hooking an ankle over Rhodes’s foot. With a powerful buck of his hips, the elemental rolled them over, reversing their positions and landing on top of Rhodes.

Shayde rushed in, grabbing and shouting at the elemental in a desperate attempt to pull him off. But the elemental wouldn’t let Rhodes go. He pummeled punch after punch after punch. And Rhodes just... laid there.

Why in the elements was he throwing the fight?

He just gave up.

He was meant for more.

Professor Reynoski stormed onto the field, his voice cutting through the chaos as he yelled for them to stop the fight.

I drifted into my thoughts, my eyes fixed on the field where Shayde was helping Rhodes to his feet.

The noise of the crowd—the cheering, the commotion—faded into the background until all that remained was a heavy, eerie quiet in my mind.

My eyes fluttered, and suddenly I was back in the shed.

I fought valiantly every time the men came for me. Kicking, screaming, biting... I gave it all I had. Which wasn’t much. They overpowered me every single time. They tossed me around like a ragdoll. But no matter how hard they pushed me, I fought.

I may have been trapped, but I was a caged storm of utter destruction.

Waiting for the day my fury would be unleashed into the world and destroy everything in its path. But by the time I was free, I had nothing left in me.

I had given up .

I had thrown the fight.

Being your own worst villain is easy when no one else is watching. It’s a private war, a battle fought in silence. But seeing it from the outside looking in—watching someone with a burning flame snuff out their own torch—is an entirely different kind of torment.

I’m downright ashamed of myself.

I should have fought. I could have fought.

How dare I throw the fight.

My boots echoed on the stone floor as I weaved through the halls, my mind racing. I had told Laney the sight of all the blood was making me sick and that I needed some space.

Rounding a corner, I slipped into the infirmary.

The room was bustling with cadets’ nursing injuries from today’s simulations.

Most of them bore minor wounds—scrapes, broken fingers, a few twisted ankles.

Rising onto the balls of my feet, I scanned the sea of faces, urgently searching for Wylder.

My steps quickened as I darted between cots, checking each cadet being treated.

“Cadet Wylder, I believe you’re good to be released.”

The voice pulled me up short. I spun around, my gaze landing on a nurse signing off release papers for Shayde. He sat on a cot, smiling at her as he thanked her for checking on him.

My breath hitched, trembling in my chest. Without a second thought, I ducked behind a taller nurse and slipped out of the infirmary, keeping to her side like a shadow as I fled the room.

Back in the hall, I moved against the tide of cadets, their hushed whispers filling the air. They glanced over their shoulders, gazes lingering on the tall, dark, and mysterious figure behind them.

I walked faster.

I trailed him as he strode through the hall, oblivious to the stares of the cadets around him. Without a glance, he took a sharp left and disappeared into a storage closet.

“What was that?” I asked, my voice betraying a hint of uncertainty as I tried to steady it.

Rhodes didn’t answer. He rummaged through a first-aid kit, muttering a low growl under his breath. After a moment, he grabbed some bandage wraps, and that’s when he turned to face me—revealing a busted lip and swollen black eye.

I swallowed hard, the sight of him hurt tormented me more than I expected. But it wasn’t just his injuries that gnawed at me—it was the question burning in my mind, the one I couldn’t shake.

I surveyed the cluttered space for something to occupy my hands. My fingers trembled as I reached for another first-aid kit. Snatching an ice pack from inside, I snapped it to activate the instant-cooling magic.

I held the ice pack toward him, raising my brows in silent question.

Rhodes slowly closed the distance between us with two strides.

His bewildering eyes beamed into mine. I rested a hand on the unharmed side of his face while slowly pressing the ice pack to his injuries.

He closed his eyes, exhaling what seemed like centuries worth of built-up stress.

I soaked in how ruthlessly beautiful he looked in the dim light, the shadows sharpening his features in a way that made my heart skip before I pressed the question again. “What was that, Rhodes?”

“What was what?” He didn’t even bother to open his eyes.

I inhaled, struggling to steady my breath. “You were kicking that guy’s ass out there. And then you just let him throw punches at you, without even trying to fight back.”

“Cory got the upper hand. That’s all it was.” His eyes snapped open, his voice firm and cold, as if daring me to challenge him further.

I narrowed my gaze, refusing to back down. “Don’t lie to me. I’ve never seen you look so distant. So angry. So vicious. The Rhodes I know wouldn’t have—”

He straightened, his body going rigid with an edge of something almost dangerous. “Maybe that’s because you don’t actually know me, cadet. Didn’t like what you saw? That’s on you for profiling me into whatever pretty image you wanted me to be.”

His words hit like an arrow to my chest. I lowered the ice pack, my anger bubbling up from deep inside, a roiling boil that I could no longer contain.

He stepped back, lifting his chin and looking down at me with the arrogance he greeted me with on initiation day, his hands casually wrapping his knuckles.

“You saw nothing. I lost the fight. That’s all it was,” his voice flat and indifferent. “You can go now, cadet.”

My anger boiled over. I hurled the ice pack at the back of his head, it landed with a sharp thud against the floor.

He flinched, then grabbed his head, slowly turning to face me again.

“Coming from someone who has thrown a fight before, that was absolute bullshit, cadet.” I spewed venom with my words. Hoping it sinks into the correct wounds.

Not giving a damn about his response, I left.