Rhys Book Character Novels & Stories

and left. Rhys hadn’t moved from the pillar. Fifty feet of empty basement between us. He was looking at the book in my hands. Looking at me. Probably processing the reality that the wreckage was public now. That strangers would read about his cruelty and his crash and his father’s secret and the hospital chair and the kitchen floor. But he wasn’t hiding from it. He was standing in the light of it. I walked toward him. Boots on concrete. The book against my ribs. His eyes on my face the entire way.

At noon, the door opened with a cold blast. I looked up. My heart froze. It wasn't Orion. It was Rhys, a young, strict werewolf from the woods. He looked calm but dangerous. He wore normal clothes, but his gold eyes scanned the room like a hunter. He walked straight to my counter. Everyone else seemed to feel the threat and got quiet. "You smell better in here," Rhys said, leaning on the counter. "Less forest, more grease." I kept wiping the counter. "What can I get you? The special is meatloaf."

“Rhys. Rhys is the one I should get—he would know what to do! I grinned wryly. Rhys couldn't possibly know anything about humans if he wasn't also one. My death was imminent. Before I could say anything, Ralph snapped his finger, and out of nowhere, a man in a dark suit who I immediately recognized as Rhys from the restaurant the day before appeared. He didn't seem happy, as if he was about to strangle Ralph to death, his golden eyes blazing with rage. You know how to summon me whenever you need me! What am I? your canine?” Angered, Rhys hissed. "No, now is not the time. I really need your help," Ralph seized Rhys’s wrist and drew him over to where I was lying on the bed. Rhys swept his eyes

Rhys The meeting with Alpha Ethan had gone on for hours, longer than I’d expected. He was frantic, trying to figure out where the rumor about him having the Crest had come from. I’d known Ethan for years—he wasn’t the kind of man to chase power recklessly or put himself in the middle of unnecessary danger. So when he swore to me, "I don't have the Crest, Rhys. I never wanted this attention," I believed him.

He didn’t belong here—and yet, he looked like he owned the night itself. “Sorry,” he said, smiling. “Didn’t mean to eavesdrop. But Blackwood does inspire violent fantasies.” “Who are you?” “Call me Rhys.” The name didn’t ring any bells, but his smile did something dangerous to my pulse. There was mischief in his eyes. But something darker too. Something that made the hairs on my neck stand. “You shouldn’t be up here,” I said cautiously. “Neither should you,” he replied. I crossed my arms. “Are you with the press?”

Gunner began, her voice soft with nostalgia, "was the sweetest man. Kind, gentle, and fiercely protective of his family. He had a way of making everyone feel special." As she spoke, the door opened again and Rhys walked in, exuding his usual confidence and charm. "Good morning, Mother," he said, bending to kiss her on the cheek before turning his attention to me. "And hello, Alex." His eyes met mine, and I felt a jolt of electricity pass between us. Rhys’s presence was as unsettling as his brothers’, but in a different way. He was smooth, charming, and utterly unpredictable. Oh God! I felt like a mice in a maze.

I froze with even more dread on seeing who it was. Rhys. I’d heard stories of him. The Rogue Alpha. The one who was rumored to rule the borderlands with his own law. He was drop-dead gorgeous as the tales read, almost as much as he was scary. Looked like he emerged right from the front page of a horror story, and he was the hottest villain in the book. “You’re in my boundary,” He spoke flatly, drawing me out of my thoughts. “Give me one reason not to kill you right now.”

“It’s fine, I know I wasn’t the easiest growing up.” The headmistress nodded and left. I looked at the book she threw before me. I felt Rhys pressing forward again. I rolled my eyes at her, “look who finally shows up.” She growled in return, “you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” I picked up the book and made my way to my bedroom. I sat down on my bed. I tried to open the lock on the book, but couldn’t. I sighed, “great.” I felt my body changing when Rhys took control. Claws formed from my fingertips. With her claws she opened the book. Like the lock was made for her. The claws retreated when Rhys gave me back control.

Russian billionaires with a reputation for ruthlessness. "Jasper," Rhys calls out, snapping me back to reality. "Hmm?" I turn to look at him, and he's standing there, staring at me. "Let's sit here," he says, sinking down onto the sand with a soft sigh. I sit down beside him, closing the distance between us. I wrap my arms around his, holding him close. Rhys looks at me, his gray eyes darkening to almost black. He looks dangerous, and it suits him well, complementing his tattoos and rugged demeanor.

None of this was and so I could not look at him like that, or think of him like that. “You stare at people like they are books and like you can read them” My words slurred together but he understood what I meant “I see you looking at the others as if they are your own reflection” “If others are books, then you are an open book that is closed, does that make sense?” Rhys asked . It sounded like something he read, and yet it felt right. That made some kind of sense. He tilted his head in confusion and I wondered how long I stared off without saying anything until he brought it up again. He looked at me expectantly waiting on an answer.