WastelandRogue by Brenda Williamson Read Free Book Online Page B

he explained
when he saw her looking at it and the spigot he turned to let the water flow
into the flask.
    “This is your place, then, and not just an abandoned
mineshaft you squat in?” She glanced around, working at the laces on the shirt
when she didn’t think he watched.
    “I call it mine, as I do several others in the wasteland,”
he answered, taking the flask and going back to the spigot.
    By the crate she had slept in sat a pile of stuff, an
obvious indication he had emptied the wooden box to put her in it. Besides a
few chairs, the small dugout cave didn’t appear inhabited very often.
    “I should go.” She stood too fast.
    Sevrin wasn’t close enough to catch her before she crashed
into the chair and tumbled to the dirt floor again. He came to her as she
pushed to sit up. Without speaking, he lifted her in the cradle of his arms,
proving his strength once again by the ease of his movements.
    “You’re not going anywhere, yet,” he informed her.
    Rattled by his words, she struggled to get free. “Put me
down,” she demanded.
    His hold tightened. “Just relax.”
    He carried her toward a darker area of the cavern. Ropes
hanging over a beam reminded her of her recent imprisonment by Hamner.
    “Let go of me.” She swung her arm to hit him.
    “Rye.” Sevrin dropped her legs so she stood. “What’s wrong?”
    His tight hug kept her arms bound to her sides. She started
to struggle but stopped when his hold loosened.
    “Just take it easy. I was just taking you back here to lie
down and rest.” He motioned to a low ledge with some sort of bedding on it.
    She looked at him again. Fighting off the paranoia that he
wanted to make her a prisoner, she nodded in agreement. He slowly lifted her
again.
    By fate’s design, she fit in Sevrin’s embrace. As if a force
beyond her reason guided her, she resigned herself to his commands and slid one
arm around to his back and the other around his neck. She liked his take-charge
attitude and the way he made her feel protected. The safe ambiance of the
low-lit mineshaft helped as well. She relaxed against him.
    “What, no argument or fight?” His brow rose, as if astonished
by her decision.
    “No,” she answered. “I’m not a fool. I can tell I need a
little more time to recover.”
    Over the years, the negative intensity she existed on had
dulled her senses and diluted her emotions. Not knowing Shay’s fate left her
empty. Sevrin’s seemingly compassionate nature touched the tender frailties of
her spirit. Reassured by his seemingly good character, she deemed it safe to
relax. Later, she’d address his motives.
    Letting her guard down, Rye tried to enjoy the attention.
Sevrin smelled good, a clean scent mixed with a hint of smoke. Instinctively,
she nestled her face in the warm recess under his angular jaw. The bristles of
his unshaven skin tickled her cheek. She listened to his steady breath and the
rhythmic beat of his heart.
    “Here we go.” He placed her on the thick layer of bedding
made up of rags on the outcropping of stone.
    She watched him sort out the mess, straightening the bundle
formed into a pillow.
    “Scoot over.” He waved her back.
    She shifted on the ledge toward the wall as he indicated.
    “Lie down,” he instructed.
    She dropped back onto the headrest of bundled rags. When he
hopped up and sat on the ledge in front of her, her pulse quickened. What were
his plans? Was he ready to seek payment for helping her? Trepidation lingered
in her thoughts.
    When he fluffed a thin ragged blanket into the air and
spread it out over her, the simplicity of his actions gained more of her trust
than her concern. As he pushed and tucked and smoothed the covering around her,
his consistent care seemed endless.
    Then he stretched out on his back alongside her. He crossed
his legs at the ankles, wiggled as if it were possible to make the padded rock
any softer than a padded rock and seemed content to settle into a
position to sleep.
    “Get some