Rhys Bowen Series Novels & Stories

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

Then look up at Rhys, who's staring at me with eyes that seem to bore into my soul, making my skin crawl. Yes! Look at me! "Have you ever murdered anyone?" He suddenly asks, cocking his head to the side. Eh? I glance to the side, expecting to see Luciano, but he's gone. My gaze snaps back to Rhys. "No." Rhys rises to his feet, his movements careful yet intimidating. He squats before me, grasping my chin tightly, his fingers digging into my skin. "Why do you ask?" I blink at him innocently.

Their expressions were tense, focused, their bodies still carrying the energy of battle. “There’s more,” one of them said, his voice tight as he glanced toward Corin. “They’re not stopping.” Rhys stepped forward, slightly ahead of the others, his breathing heavier than usual but his composure still intact. His gaze moved directly to me, sharp and assessing, as if he had already come to a conclusion before speaking. “Well,” he said, exhaling as he ran a hand through his hair, his tone edged with urgency despite the faint hint of something familiar beneath it, “this would be a really good time for you to give those crystals a bit of energy.”

“I'm fine really.” “You were saying?” her face and tone remains the same except the raising of her brows. The door bangs open and the pain dulls to the background when I'm met with icy blue eyes. Rhys. He is dressed in casual pants, black army boots and a heavy coat that is covered in snow. He removes his hat revealing the entirety of his face. He is… wearing glasses? My heart pounds as I take in the entirety of him. He's all destructive energy and muscle packed behind casual outfits. The glasses give him a sense of intelligent demeanor making him look like a doctor or an accountant.

Rhys was home right at nine. Pearl had left the rose petal path on the floor and a note on the key table that said "follow it" Rhys found her in the library, wearing nothing but the Bukowski book he had sent her before New York. She had it covering her chest, and she was laying across the couch, with her legs up over the back and crossed. The fireplace was roaring and she had candles lit with a bottle of wine with two glasses and blankets and pillows on the floor by the hearth.

Sky’s thought brushed against mine. “You knew that?” I responded, surprised. “Knowing it and experiencing it are two different things,” she replied. A beat passed. “He has excellent bone structure for a wolf. I’m noting that professionally.” “Please don’t,” I pleaded silently. The wind whipped around Rhys as he hit the cliff's edge, his paws skidding just a hair on the dew-kissed grass. He barely registered it, his entire focus zeroed in on the ground before him. It was like he'd been given the keys to a treasure room, and he intended to explore every inch. His fur, a richer, tawny gold than Orion's eyes, caught the early morning sun, radiating warmth as he moved. In thirty seconds, he cover

Two more wolves are climbing through the shattered window and I’m backing up and my hands hit the floor and there’s glass everywhere, I feel it slice into my palms but the pain is distant because one of the wolves is looking directly at me with eyes that glow yellow and its lips pull back showing teeth that are way too long. I hear fabric ripping and bones cracking and when I look back at Rhys he’s got the first wolf pinned and his hand is around its throat except his hand isn’t a hand anymore, there are claws where his fingers should be and his eyes are pure gold and he squeezes and I hear the snap. The wolf drops and Rhys is already turning toward me and the second wolf that’s stalking clo

Mrs Rhys smiled warmly. Mr. Rhys cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the display of affection. "How is your work going?" he asked, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction. Eryx shrugged. "Same as always. We are assigned to new case and almost to the final investigation," "That sounds good," Mrs. Rhys said. "But be careful with all this stuff." She added. Mr Rhys grunted in response, focusing on his breakfast. He didn't like this stuff at all.

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.

It was a fantasy series Mirabel had raved about. I pulled down the dark romance—black cover, gold lettering, with a man in the shadows. The blurb promised forbidden desire and heartbreak. Perfect. I sank into one of the leather armchairs, opened the book, and tried to read. But the words blurred. My mind kept replaying our conversations from dinner. Rhys’s voice. “Alicia Brown.” The way he’d said it—testing, tasting, like he already knew the answer. I closed the book. Leaned my head back, and closed my eyes.