Rhys Booktok Novels & Stories

Stealing of my work/any idea or portion of the book may result to severe punishment to whoever who plagiarizes as it is a serious crime and won't be excused. This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coicidental. _____ My life was almost empty with negligent parents and a brother who was behaving weird lately and hiding secrets. And when Ethan Jones, the son of the school's principal and the bully entered my life, it just turned miserable. Bearing his love mode was pathetic.

RHYERS Rhyers was in WaterRose’s library, patiently waiting for Sebastian to come down. As he often did. He sat quietly in the blue chair awaiting Sebastian, knowing he always wandered down when he was good and healed. Rhyers had leisurely picked up the book Elsabet had left set open on the counter. He’d picked up reading where she had left off. He was surprised to find it was plump with old-world tales. Some of the characters were very similar to the Forever Knights. Which he found intriguing.

Deadly. Sucking in a deep breath, she forced herself to open the satchel, her fingers stilling as they encountered smooth leather instead of the cold, hard steel she’d been expecting. With a rueful smile, she pulled out the heavy book that was written in a language she didn’t recognize. She wistfully trailed her fingers over the aged leather of the cover. She’d encountered various demons and warriors and even powerful witches during her travels with Francisco, but none had offered such a fascinating mixture of contrasts. Icily aloof and yet so vulnerable. Rhye was strong and yet tender. Raw, ruthless power with the soul of an alpha.

At least, for now, I want to pretend everything is still alright. I step out of the kitchen and through the corridor to the living room. "Would you like any snacks with—" I gasp halfway through my question, nearly dropping the tray. Rhys is holding a familiar book in his hand. I instantly know what it is, but I stubbornly hope he didn’t read it. That thought flies out the window when he opens his mouth. "You have quite the imagination, Kira Davidson."

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.

I tell him. “I agree, I could not fault him. I think we are done discussing Twisted Games, let us move on Twisted Lies, which is actually my favourite book out of all them,” Blake says. I think about my favourite book and I say to him, “My favourite book is actually Twisted Games, I really love Rhys and Bridget.”

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.

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,”

Chapter 13: Trouble in Paradise Rhys’s P.O.V: A vicious growl tore through me as I watched Zyane about to do the unthinkable. The growl distracted Zyane enough to snap his attention towards me, but all he did was growl at me in rage before turning back towards the cowering girl he had trapped under him by force. Knowing that I was the closest one to him, I jumped up on top of one of the rocks and in one swift motion, landed right behind Zyane and sank my teeth into his shoulders to rip him off of the girl and throw Zyane away from her.

Yes… If I could just reach it… The back doors flew open. “There you are, you sneaky bitch.” I froze. A tall, thin man stood in the doorway. My eyes immediately dropped to the leather cut covering his chest. Wild Ridge. My stomach twisted. No… That couldn’t be right. Either he belonged to the club… Or he’d stolen the cut. He climbed inside and crouched beside me. Before I could pull away, his fist tangled in my hair. I cried out as he yanked me toward him. “Lightfoot’s been looking all over for you,” he sneered. “Wonder how happy he’ll be when I hand over his little hacker whore.”