Reckless Souls (Saints Academy, #1)(56)

“Take your fucking time,” Xander adds, and when the others meet me in the hallway, I turn to look

at him one last time, but before I can meet his gaze the door slams shut in our faces.

Fuck.





Chapter 17

Rhea

M y mind races at a mile a minute, but I remain rooted to the spot, watching as Xander paces

across the room.

Back and forth. Back and forth. Turning to glance at me. Then back and forth. Back and

forth.

Repeat.

What in the hell is going on with these guys?

I almost feel like they’re acting out of character, like there’s an agenda I haven’t figured out, but in

reality, I’ve barely spent any time with them to know if that’s true or not. So the reality may be that

they’re acting differently than I assumed they would.

There’s a pull, something drawing me closer and closer to them and it feels uncontrollable,

inevitable, and as I watched the snowflakes fall from the sky in a mesmerizing dance, I basked in their

presence. It was comforting.

Xander wrapped his strong arms around me, keeping the chill off my exposed skin, and I couldn’t

bring myself to pull away. Zen made it snow for me. Like actual snow. Well, his sister did, but that’s

beside the point.

Something so small, so inconsequential, warmed my soul to the point I thought it might set on fire.

I was so caught up in the moment, that when Adonis brushed a lock of hair behind my ear, I felt

nothing but the desire to give into him, even against my better judgment.

Adding to the fact that I could feel Khaos’ eyes boring into mine as Zen extended his hand, my

body moved toward him before my brain could even catch up.

Now, I’m standing in Xander’s room, his eyes no longer the brown I remember as they shine

amber. He seems restless, like something is clawing at his insides, begging for release, and as much

as I said I was fine to stay with him, unafraid and curious, I don’t know how to help him.

And for some reason, I have to.

Rubbing my lips together, I glance around his gray room, aware of the slight differences to my

own dorm. The bathroom and walk-in closet are to the right, with the large window on the back wall.

There’s a huge bed in here, almost twice the size of my own, with nightstands, a desk, and a chest of

drawers in white. The main difference is the four beanbags that scatter the floor in the corner to my

right.

My gut tells me it has something to do with him being a shifter, but my brain doesn’t actually

understand the reason why.

I focus my attention back on the prowling man before me, only to find his eyes on mine as he

stands by the bathroom door with his arms folded over his chest. I’m still standing in the same spot by

the beanbags from when he slammed the door in the other guys’ faces. The hard tone of his voice as he

pretty much kicked them out, caught me off guard. He didn’t sound like him.

Maybe I was stupid to be left alone with him, especially with him in such an agitated state, but it

doesn’t leave me feeling uneasy, which is confusing the hell out of me. Usually, I would at least feel

defensive, but right now, only curiosity and concern thrum through my veins.

Fuck, my emotions are giving me whiplash.

“Is everything okay?” I ask, relaxing my shoulders back and letting my hands fall to my sides to

try and ease my posture.

“Nope.” He pops the p with sass, but his tone is short and gruff. Even still, a slight chuckle falls

from my lips in disbelief. He stands with his hands clenched at his sides, his jaw tight, and his

shoulders tense, not seeing the funny side.

“Is there anything I can do? Or do you need me to get the guys—”

“You’re twisting my insides up,” he grunts, taking a step toward me, the raw confession has my

feet planted in place. It sounds like he’s lost between anger, confusion, and exasperation, but he’s

looking at me like I’m going to help ease his rolling emotions and make it all go away.

“I’m… what?” My brows knit together as I stare at him. With confusing sentences in the form of

riddles, I’m never going to be able to help him, and what’s even stranger, is the fact that I fucking

want to. The desire to do something is too hard to resist.

Without a word, he puts one foot in front of the other again, cutting the distance between us, and he

doesn’t stop until we’re toe to toe. The press of the wall behind me makes me jump as I realize I

stepped back when he stepped forward, leaving myself with no room to run.

I don’t let my uncertainty show as I look up at him, his wide frame caging me in as he plants one

hand on either side of my face. My pulse rings in my ears, arousal rising through my body, adrenaline

coursing through me as I wet my lips.

He doesn’t utter a word, his eyes seeming even lighter and brighter this close, and before I even

realize it, my finger runs along the side of his face by his eyes. “How are they a completely different

color right now?” The question slips from my lips before I can stop it, and it seems to catch Xander