Page 76 of The Scars Within (Twisted Thorn #1)

Lakota’s panic rippled through our bond, but I had nothing left to give.

Everything I’ve done since escaping the shed has been to rebuild myself, learn from my past, and carve out a better future.

The day I left the women’s shelter and returned to my cottage, I fell to my knees at the sight of it.

There was nothing left but ash. I dreaded the moment I’d have to tell Cora that it was my fault her home had been destroyed.

All I owned were the clothes on my back and the elemental documentation clenched in my hand. Attending Mageia was my last hope.

I just wanted life to pass me by.

I didn’t care about making friends or feeling a sense of belonging. I already knew the pain of losing something I loved all too well, so preventing that was easy.

Don’t allow myself to let anybody in.

But I failed at that.

Cleo, Laney, and Tatum became more than friends—they became my family.

After my mother passed, I felt like I was drifting, marking time until another day ended. No matter where I lived, I felt like I was borrowing someone else’s home. Their safe space. Their comfort. Where they belonged .

I never felt like I had a home of my own.

And then Laney… She brought me home.

That’s when I realized that home isn’t just a place. It’s wherever you feel safe, where you find comfort.

Where you feel as if you belong.

And for me, that was with them.

Cleo. Tatum. Laney. They are the best parts of me.

And now Laney… She’s gone.

The sharp pain in my chest forced my eyes open. I rolled onto my back, letting the cold rain lash my face, hoping it might numb the pain.

Just please.

Anything.

Something.

Numb my pain.

The sound of wings beating fiercely filled the air, and Lakota’s landing vibrated the ground.

“ I’m with you. You don’t have to go through this pain alone. Just don’t let go. He’s coming. ”

More thundering wings filled the air, blending with the rapid patter of approaching footsteps.

Then, I was lifted from the ground and cradled into the warmth of cashmere sandalwood and vanilla.

Rhodes’s face came into focus through my blurred vision.

He held me gently, his touch both tender and desperate.

His hands roamed over my body, searching for wounds, and his expression twisted with horror as he saw the blood staining his hand that had supported my head.

All this time, I had seen Rhodes as an unpredictable storm—uncontrollable and fierce. But perhaps the true storm was within me, tearing through everything in its path. Rhodes was the shelter, the steadfast foundation meant to protect me from the chaos.

He was a beacon, guiding me towards safety.

And I ran the other way .

My eyes fluttered shut.

His voice cracked, “Scarlet!” He gently slapped my cheek, his eyes pleading. “No—baby, no. Don’t close your eyes. Fight.”

Tears streamed down his face as he held me tighter against him, his sobs muffled in my hair. His voice was raw with anguish. “Please… come be a thorn in my side…”

I deserve this– I deserve to have everything good torn from my grasp.

I deserve to witness my best friend’s final breath.

But once again, the universe won’t let me fade away. Instead, I am forced to feel Rhodes crumble as he tries to hold the shattered pieces of me together. I silently beg whoever is listening to let me endure all of the pain and take it away from him. I can handle it all, but please don’t hurt him.

But nobody listens.

So I fight.

I will fight for him .

I open my eyes.

Rain pours down around us in relentless sheets, drenching everything in its path.

Yet Rhodes rests firmly over me, his body a shield, his head lowered over mine to protect me from the torrential downpour.

Water streams down his soaked hair, and though his lips move, his words are swallowed by the storm’s roar.

He was the one that I was most afraid to let in.

I saw a black and red blur from the corner of my vision as Lakota and Noemi approached us.

“ We will walk through this fire with you. ”

The storm gradually eased, and I heard the approach of more footsteps—different from the heavy tread of boots or the powerful beat of dragon wings. Rhodes lifted his gaze, his eyes filled with desperation. “Please. You have to help her. ”

I heard the sound of someone dismounting from a saddle, followed by lighter, more measured footsteps.

Rhodes tensed and pulled me closer as the footsteps approached us.

A familiar sensation—a presence I had felt before in the woods and through the visions connected to the runes—compelled me to turn my head.

The tall, black wolf stood nearby, its head lowered and ears folded back in a posture of quiet concern.

My gaze traveled upward to the figure standing over us.

She wore dark leathers, with a bow in one hand and a dagger in the other.

Her long braid draped over one shoulder, brushing against the hem of her tunic, which was reinforced with a thin sheet of metal.

And then my eyes locked with my own, but they weren’t scarlet.

They were my hazel eyes.

I blinked rapidly, struggling to dispel the fog of my fading consciousness.

She knelt beside us, her leathers crinkling softly with the movement.

One side of her lips curled up as she said, “Hey, sis.”