Reckless Souls (Saints Academy, #1)(69)



moment and encourages us all to carry on walking with a slight shove against my back. I hadn’t even

realized we’d stopped.

She’s under my skin, there’s no denying it. I both hate it and love it all at once. The foreign feeling

wreaking havoc on my body. A tightness in my chest causing mayhem internally. Which only leaves

one question in my mind.

The pull that I feel toward her, is that what the others feel… what Xander felt? I don’t know, I’m

too much of a fucking pussy to ask it out loud just yet, but boy do I want to find out.





Chapter 21

Rhea

A fter the most bizarre Christmas Eve that ever existed, I made the mature decision to avoid the

Elite yesterday, hiding away in my room as I absorbed all the crazy this world has thrown at

me already.

Not even six months ago, I was living a normal human life. A cheating ex, a shitty diner job, and a

tiny apartment in a run down building. Now, that all seems so distant it barely feels real, but it serves

to keep me grounded, because since then, well, everything has been flipped upside down. The

challenging part to deal with is how none of what’s happened is in my control. It’s supernatural and

I’m being forced to hold on for the wild ride.

I thought finding out I had some kind of magical gift was crazy enough. Now I’ve managed to

finally move on from my life back in Phoenix Valley, fuck someone for the first time here, and

somehow manage to seal my goddamn soul to his.

Xander.

Fuck.

As a wolf he was… stunning. Fierce, but beautiful.

Everything about those moments were a frenzy, more than just need and desire, and his words

were true when he said it was more than just fucking, but I’m not really ready to admit that yet,

because developing a deeper connection with someone is not what I signed up for.

Now he has a mark taking up his right ribcage, while I have a thick red circle covering the bottom

of my back, and I’m quite sure they aren’t going to rub off. Ever. It feels just like the skin around my

back, no raised scar tissue, nothing, like it is just simply a part of me.

I’m so screwed.

As if juggling this new world wasn’t enough, between classes, magical objects I have no clue

how to use, and motherfuckers trying to jump me, this is the last thing I need. But something seems to

tell me this is a gift from the fates, offering a stability in my life like I’ve never been given before.

I told Harmonia and the twins only weeks ago that delving into a relationship of any kind with

anyone was not on the agenda, but the picture Harm sent me last night offered me a stark reality check.

The magic of two souls sealed is all consuming.

You’ll breathe better as one.

Stronger together.

United as one.

The magic of more souls sealed is incomparable.

A memory of what was once possible for a loved one.

Cherished, true, and pure.

Love will prevail with no cure.

What the actual fuck does any of that mean?

I don’t really know, and I’m far too put off by the entire thing to find out more, because if my gut is

right, it means I’m expected to be with him, except there is the possibility of adding in a them, for the

rest of my life.

I’ve only just arrived here. Do I find them attractive? Fuck yeah, I’m not blind. Did I find being in

their company the other day a different experience than I originally thought? Yes. They somehow

managed to get past my walls, forcing me to spend time with them, and to my surprise, they weren’t as

assholey as I had originally thought.

But do I want to say I love them and commit myself to them? I don’t know what love is, and as

much as I’m not saddened by Dante’s bullshit, it’s still left me a little tainted. Fuck, these guys are

supernaturals. If sex with Xander is anything to go by, everything is going to feel ten times stronger,

and hurt one hundred times worse if this ends badly. And with my stellar track record, everything

ends badly.

I swipe a hand down my face, knowing full well I need to get the fuck up and go find the library if

I want any sort of answers, but I don’t want to open my eyes, not yet. Keeping them closed means I

can avoid the day and the worries that seem to constantly swirl in my mind like a tornado. It’s

wreaking havoc on my mind, body, and soul.

I’ve wallowed enough, I know I have, and wallowing isn’t me.

Fuck it.

Blinking my eyes open, I stretch my arms above my head and point my toes as every inch of my

body groans in protest. Reaching for my phone on the nightstand, I notice it’s just past ten in the

morning.

Everyone will be back from their break tomorrow, so if I want to get over myself and go and do

some research without anyone gossiping about it, today is the day. With that in mind, I throw my

covers off, swinging my legs over the side of the bed before heading to the bathroom.

My stomach grumbles, a stark reminder that I foolishly didn’t eat yesterday except for breakfast,

the rest of the time was spent under my sheets. I don’t like Christmas anyway, so the drama of the day

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