Page 33 of The Scars Within
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, butbeing 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.
