As if my words unlocked something inside him, his hands moved to my hips, lifting me and lining our bodies up. In one slow thrust, Rhodes drove into me. We both gasped at the feeling from this angle, deeper than our first time. Rhodes paused, letting me adjust and waiting for my cue to continue.
I took the initiative, rising and falling on his length. The deep, guttural moans from Rhodes were enough to make me quicken mypace. I rode him until my legs burned, and he took over without complaint.
“You fit perfectly around me, Scarlet,” Rhodes moaned. “You sure you’ll take all I’ve got?”
I nodded eagerly, smiling between our kisses. In an instant, he shifted our positions, placing me on all fours on the bed with him kneeling behind me.
“Hold on tight.”
Chapter 17
I’m convinced my twin sister is trying to kill me.
“Again.”
After an exhausting ride through the steep, winding mountains of the Hollow and a long night setting up camp, Fallon was already eager to begin our first lesson. Before we left, a warden delivered a message from the General, saying we needed to strengthen ourmarekemquickly so we could learn to channel our elements as one.
Bold move from my biological father—sending a messenger to show just how deeply he cares… about my magic, not me.
My evil twin must’ve already known about the demand—she didn’t even flinch at the warden’s words.
“So you do agree. She is your evil twin,” Lakota mumbled.
I ignored him and kept my focus on Fallon. She knocked me flat on my ass—again. But I gritted my teeth, caught my breath, and forced myself back up.
My hips ached. My back ached.Everythingached.
I glanced over my shoulder at Rhodes, who was standing just outside our makeshift circle, arms crossed, his gray-blue eyesglowing in the dimming light. He had been scrutinizing every part of Fallon’s training, bickering with her over every misstep.
My distraction cost me.
Fallon’s slap snapped my head to the side, the sharp sting spreading across my cheek. The metallic tang of blood bloomed on my tongue. My gaze whipped back to hers, and I groaned in frustration, lifting my fists again.
She smirked, motioning with her fingers for me to come at her again.
Unlike Rhodes, who focused on defense, Fallon insisted we start with offense. Which, so far, had meant me lunging at her while she effortlessly made me look like a fool. Every time my frustration peaked, tiny sparks of flame flickered from my fingertips—unintentional bursts of magic she had to douse with water before I accidentally set the forest on fire.
We circled each other, the ground beneath us flattened and worn from our relentless sparring. The night air was thick with the scent of pine and sweat, and I knew one thing for certain—Fallon wouldn’t let me rest until I beat her in some way.
Fallon lunged first, her movements sharp and precise. I barely dodged in time, her fist grazing past my jaw.
“You’re too slow,” she taunted.
I was trying. But Fallon moved like a wolf—fast, unrelenting, impossible to predict. Every time I thought I had an opening, she pivoted, slipping just out of reach like she was toying with me. My breaths came hard and fast, muscles burning with the effort to keep up.
She threw another punch, and I blocked it, but my arms shook from the impact. She was stronger than me. Faster than me.
But I was resilient.
I ducked under her next swing and used the momentum to roll across the ground, coming up behind her. I launched forward, aiming a hit at her ribs.
She spun at the last second, knocking my arm away.
“Better,” she admitted, smirking. “But not good enough.”
Before I could react, she slammed her palm into my shoulder and shoved me backward. My foot caught on a loose root, and I stumbled, barely keeping myself upright.
Rage flared hot in my chest. I hated how easy this was for her. I hated that she was barely even trying.
