Rhys Book Character Novels & Stories

Rhys, after having a lengthy conversation with her, had reported that her leg was healing up nicely and that she seemed to be getting around just fine. Ember met my gaze, and I saw a flash of bravery flicker through her eyes as she raised her chin and said, “Bored.” “Bored,” I repeated. I certainly hadn’t expected that. “Now don’t tell me you’re making Rhys haul cartloads of books to your room just for fun?” She smirked, a welcome new expression on her face that hinted at a depth of sharp humor lurking beneath the surface of her personality. “Oh, I absolutely am,” she said dryly. “You’d better not tell him though, he seems to enjoy it, and I’d hate for him to feel like he has to stop.”

But we weren't alone. "YOU!" Rhys burst from the trees. He was half-shifted, a monstrous, twisted thing of fur and flesh. Foam flecked his muzzle, and his eyes were rolling with madness. He charged straight for me. He wanted to hurt Victor by breaking me. But he would never touch me. A black blur intercepted him mid-air. Victor slammed into Rhys with the force of a freight train. The impact crunched bone. They hit the snow in a tangle of claws and teeth, snarling like demons.

Rhys admits, with a sad note in his voice, then he looks down at the book in his lap. "I be your friend, so will Gunnar, Aiden, Anarchy and Roan." Phoenix reaches out and places her hand over Rhys’, moving closer to him. "Looks like you're having fun making friends," Draig mentions, while looking to me for permission to enter the room and I nod. "They're not scared of me, I've been teaching Nix to read," Rhys looks over to Phoenix and smiles, making her tilt her head at what he called her. "Phoenix," she corrects, making him giggle and nod.

I said with a wink and walked past her, heading for the stairs. *** [3rd person] Rhys sat nervously in his bed. Reggie was supposed to be there at a quarter after twelve, but hadn’t shown. He didn’t want to push her too much, since it was a favor, but he was ready to do this. Part of him wondered if she changed her mind. A life seed was a hard thing to come by. He knew she wouldn’t have many options. Maybe she thought it wasn’t worth it. Rhys shook his head and wiped away some tears. He was always quick to tears during this time. Fucking hormones.

The smoke began to part, drawn into a swirling vortex by the sheer mass of the figure stepping forward. Rhys emerged from the dust. He looked like an ancient war god forged in the deep earth. His tatted chest was slick with sweat, his jaw set in a hard, merciless line, and his hazel-blue eyes had completely transitioned into a blazing, feral gold. On his left arm, the newly forged moonstone wraps pulsed with a deep, violent purple light—the stored kinetic energy of the poison he had just sucked from his own veins. "You blew my doors," Rhys said, his voice dropping into a register so low it made the remaining glass monitors on the walls vibrate. "You shot my brother. And you threatened my wom

I want to leave that up to you guys. Option 1: I give you a couple of Rhys POVs to explain exactly why he felt he had to step aside, we wrap up his storyline quickly, and we focus on Nathaniel's redemption? Option 2: Rhys decides he isn't going down without a fight. He finds a way to balance the ledger and repay Nathaniel so they can both fight for Betty on an even playing field. This will give us an epic "Gentlemen's War." (Keep in mind, this will make the book a bit longer, but the angst and the tension will be off the charts! 🔥)

I then donated the medical books to the infirmary and had decided to construct and open up a bookstore in the center of the town. Rhys got all better in just three days, and thankfully, nothing alarming happened on that timeline. There was not a fight or another misunderstanding with her, but her bet is still on the go. As soon as she got better she also learned to dine with us together at the table but yeah, she has too many objections like; “I am not into milk,” “Coffee is better than juice,” “The bread is quite bland,” “I am not fond of a dinner without desserts,” “This pudding is unpleasant,”

"Chris thinks he's the hero of this story. He needs to save people to feel worthy of love. Take away his ability to protect Lyra, and he'll fall apart." "And Rhys?" "Rhys is drowning in guilt about their failed marriage. He'll sacrifice himself to prove he's not the selfish man he used to be." I closed the file with satisfaction. "Men are so predictable when you know what drives them." On the monitor, Lyra had stopped pacing and was now sitting on her couch, staring at the white roses. Even through the grainy camera feed, I could see how small and frightened she looked. "She's nothing like Margaret," my partner observed. "Margaret had steel underneath all that fragility. This one might actua

My voice was louder than I meant when I snapped. My chest hurt as I turned back to her. "Felza, I gave up on her. I misplaced her with Marcus, Sebastian, and this war. I strongly believe that I will also lose you. Felza jerked, and the pain in her face made it tighten. My name is Rhys and I'm still here. I'm still where I am. "But for how long?" My voice was almost a whisper as I asked. "How long before you walk away too?" She changed her face and reached out to touch my arm. Her fingers felt smooth against my skin. As Rhys said, "I'm not leaving.

Amira frowned at discovering the desk across from her was empty, and so were the armchairs by the fireplace. “Wow.” Amira’s head snapped to the side. Rhys was dashing in his black and navy embroidered waistcoat and black shirt that had three buttons undone, revealing his collarbones and the beginning of his chest muscles, the navy cravat loose. Those deep blue eyes were sharp, bow-tip lips looking so kissable with his damp hair half smoothed back in style while the rest remained rebelliously dishevelled. Rhys was looking more devilishly handsome. Especially as he held an open book in front of him, body facing her direction.