a Pleasure Rites, #1 by Ines Johnson (top ten books of all time TXT) 📗

"Khial," Dain said softly in that lyrical voice of his, but loudly enough for Chanyn to hear. "This is one fight you can't protect me from."

Khial pinched another page, muscles tense.

Dain rested his golden head against the back of Khial's shoulder. The spun gold making a lovely contrast against the rich brown.

Khial's deep voice, when he spoke, was matter-of-fact. It betrayed the emotion on his face. "I'm not giving up on you, Dain. I'll find it. Then I'll make you take it. And you will like it."

Dain chuckled at that, a light rumble rolled across the back of his shoulders.

Chanyn saw Khial's face. She saw through the young man's bravado. Whatever was wrong, it affected Khial deeply. These men clearly had come here searching for help. Specifically, for information. Chanyn had grown up in the stacks of these books. If there was anything her mother taught her well, it was to find information. If she helped them with their salvation, perhaps they'd help her with her own.

Decision made, Chanyn rose from her hiding spot. Before she could make her approach, a loud squeal cracked the air.

The men had left the barred door open to the outside wild. Every human head turned to the entrance as a wild boar charged into the room.

Before Chanyn could move, Khial shoved Dain behind him, then grabbed a chair and swung it at the boar. The flimsy plastic made contact, but it was flimsy plastic, and only served to irritate the large animal.

The boar charged, its horned snout catching Khial in the thigh. Blood spilled. Khial went down to a knee. The boar retreated.

Khial clutched his bleeding leg looking up at the boar, now on eye level.

The animal grunted. Khial did the same, a murderous look in both animal and man's eyes.

Dain stood beside Khial, but Khial held him back with his forearm.

The boar charged.

Two gunshots rang through the air. The boar went down. Its head crashed not four feet from the men. Both men looked up at the direction of the gunshots and their eyes landed on Chanyn.

There was far more shock on the men's faces as they eyed her than when they'd faced the wild animal. Chanyn took this as her due, certain she appeared wilder than anything they'd seen in the ruins she lived in. She hadn't bothered to run a brush through her hair in days. Her leggings were caked with dirt from her morning tilling in the small garden out back. And in her hand, she held a weapon she knew was outlawed in the civilized city these men came from.

Chanyn lowered the firearm. Her aim hadn't been true and the boar squealed in agony. She put the gun in its holster and withdrew a dagger from her boot. An audible gasp escaped from Dain. His eyes -they were green by the way- opened wide at the sight of the blade.

Great! Chanyn had come face to face with the man of her dreams and, instead of swooning like a Victorian heroine, she'd dispatched of the danger herself. Completely emasculating not one, but two, men. Aw, well, at least she was now certain she faced no danger from these two males. And she didn't have to go out and hunt for tonight's dinner. It had been delivered.

Chanyn approached the boar. Khial's muscled forearms spread out protectively before Dain. She slowly dropped to her knees and plunged the dagger into the heart of the animal. Once the animal stopped clinging to life, Chanyn raised wary eyes to the men. Khial's forearm stayed stiff in front of Dain, his leg still oozing blood. Khial's eyes, though no longer suspicious, were clearly on guard. Of course they were; she was another wild animal.

Chanyn chanced a glance at the golden haired Dain, expecting more of the same.

What she saw caught her breath. Dain looked at her in awe, a slow beam of light glancing off his up-tilting lips and shinning across his face. His voice, when he spoke, brimmed with wonder.

"Are you an angel?" he asked.

Chanyn blinked. She opened her mouth, but to her utter horror and further embarrassment, only a grunt came out.

Khial narrowed his eyes at her, like she was a fool.

Dain's wonder dimmed.

Chanyn's shoulders slumped.

Her entire life her mother had called her a chatterbox and demanded quiet from her. If her mother had truly wanted quiet, she wouldn't have taught Chanyn to talk or read, and then brought her out into the middle of nowhere with no one but herself as company.

Chanyn tried to clear her throat, but it seized, and more unintelligible, unladylike, sounds emanated from her person. Her voice hadn't been used in months. And apparently, it had no intentions of working any time soon.

"She's just a girl, Dain." Khial's statement rang as an accusation. His blue eyes, when Chanyn met them, threw crystal daggers at her.

Chanyn recoiled.

But Dain continued to gape at her in wonder. She decided to focus on that glorious face that filled so many of her fantasies while she read at night, and daydreamed all morning. The sight of blood oozing from Khial's leg stole that intention away.

Chanyn reached into her side pouch, which contained a kit of bandages and healing ointments. When she reached towards Khial with the materials, he jerked from her, suspicion once more in his eyes.

Dain reached out his hands and took the materials from her. His soft fingers lingering on her rough skin as he did. "I thank you for this," he said in that quiet, lyrical voice of his.

Chanyn's lips still wouldn't let out sound but they did rise in a smile.

Dain mirrored the movement.

Khial sat up, the movement causing Dain's attention to break from Chanyn and travel back to him. Dain made quick work of Khial's injuries, while Chanyn knelt nearby, helpless.

The damsel in distress didn't work for her. Neither did the nursemaid. Having no way of impressing the men with her missing gift of gab, Chanyn decided she could take a clue