The Choosing (The Pruxnae Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

preparing for bed,
and ignored the slight rustle of fabric in the other room. When he finished, she
was resting on her back, her fingertips skimming over the image on the front of
the book he’d brought her. She glanced at him and paled, then rolled onto her
side away from him, the book snug against her middle. Her shoulders hunched
inward and her knees nearly touched her chest.
    Ryn raked his
fingers through his hair. She was afraid of him, probably thought he’d hurt
her. He didn’t blame her, not after the way he’d taken her, but he hated seeing
her like that. How could he put her fears to rest?
    He
double-checked the volume of the room’s alarms, then dimmed the lights and
slipped under the covers behind her, creeping his way to her across the bed
little by little, trying not to startle her. He cupped her shoulder and rubbed
gently, warming her even as she stiffened under his touch. Stubborn. Not a bad
trait for a woman to have. He smiled and curled himself around her, and buried
his face in the long lengths of her hair. It smelled of sunshine and flowers
and old paper. Gradually, she relaxed into him and fell asleep, and he slid his
arm around her waist under the book she clutched. She was so soft, so perfect,
and soon, she’d be his.
     

Chapter Four
     
    When Ziri woke
up, Ryn was gone, as was her dress and the book he’d returned to her. She
scrambled across the mattress searching for them and bit back a relieved sigh.
The book rested on the floor beside the sleeping pallet. The dress was folded
neatly on top of it.
    She sagged into
the mattress and stared up at the depressingly gray ceiling of Ryn’s bedroom.
He’d slept beside her for who knew how long without doing more than holding
her. In an odd way, she was grateful. Without him, she would’ve been too cold
to sleep, even under the heavy blanket he’d draped over her. She tugged it up
to her chin now, listening carefully for his footsteps or any noise that would
tell her where he was, and heard nothing over the quiet throb of the engines.
    Her wits were
coming back.
    She scrubbed a
hand over her eyes. The day before, she’d missed so many details, things she
never would’ve missed under normal circumstances, like the engines’ hum or the
composition of the walls and floor or the minimalistic efficiency of Ryn’s
living quarters.
    Things like two
strange men in her home speaking a foreign language. Why hadn’t she fled the
moment she’d discovered Ryn in the outer room of her home? A bitter laugh
bubbled up and over, bursting out of her in a harsh bark of air. The Trusting
Tersii. The nickname should’ve been a compliment. She’d always considered it
so, right until Ryn had kidnapped her.
    And since he had
and she had no idea why, she shouldn’t linger in his sleeping pallet. She forced
herself upright in spite of the slight ache in her head and the fatigue dogging
her limbs, and stumbled into the bathing room.
    Why had he
kidnapped her if he didn’t want sex?
    It was becoming
clear that intimacy of that nature wasn’t his primary motivation. He could’ve
forced her by now. When he’d laid down behind her the evening before, she’d
waited for him to, expected him to chain her hands and strip down her underwear
and push himself into her unwilling body. Instead, he’d held her as his
erection brushed across her bottom, an unstated threat he’d never made good on.
He’d warmed her through and through, murmuring strange words to her in his low
voice, and she, like the lanoo she was beginning to suspect herself of being,
had fallen straight into sleep.
    As if he were a
trusted lover and not the man who’d stolen her from her home.
    She relieved
herself, washed her hands in the shallow sink, and frowned at her wan face in
the tiny mirror affixed to the wall. He hadn’t exactly stolen her. No, he’d
knelt beside her, pressed his fingers into her shoulder, and she’d poofed into darkness while the world spun ‘round and ‘round. She