IT WAS as if the war stopped between us. At that one moment, there were only the three of us, separated by vengeance, hurt, disbelief, and hatred. One side was filled with so much revenge, blinded by the rage of an old reprisal. The other side was filled with anger, so much anger that I could feel it licking my skin. The amber fire of his rage was heating the battleground.
Rhys looked so much like the embodiment of fury. He was bathed in blood, so much blood that I could almost see a glimpse of his sun-kissed skin. The way he was standing so still reminded me of the stillness of the ocean, right before a big wave came crashing down onto the blue of the sea. Rhys was a warrior. Every bit of him screamed hardness and violence. I would hate to be the end of that stare. The one he was giving
