Of Blood And Fire by Ryan Cahill (best classic books of all time .txt) 📕

in the darkness. He tried to stand up, but a boot crashed into his chest, knocking the wind from his lungs. A pair of hands grabbed him on either shoulder. A hard punch to his jaw sent stars flitting across his eyes. A second punch drew blood; he felt it trickling down his cheek. “Thought you would take me off guard with that punch, did you, Bryer?”

A third hit landed on his cheekbone. The strength in Calen’s legs gave way as he fell to his knees. He heard blows being thrown beside him. No doubt, they were laying their boots into Dann’s chest while he lay there, drunk.

“I think you boys need to learn your place,” said a deeper voice. Kurtis.

Blow after blow landed into Calen’s chest. A pair of hands held him upright. He was beginning to lose consciousness when he heard a low grumble. The grumble rose into a steady growl, joined by the slow padding of feet as it got louder. A gust of air blew by Calen’s face, and the crashing sound of wooden barrels being smashed to pieces filled his ears. A loud snarl was followed by shouts.

“It’s the fucking wolf! Get him off me!”

Calen felt Faenir’s snout nuzzle against his temple, followed by a low whine. Then darkness.

CHAPTER 3

Ella

Ella weaved through the crowd in The Gilded Dragon. She pushed open the door of the inn and pressed onward into the brisk night air. As the door closed behind her, the cheers of merriment dimmed and turned to echoes. There was a still serenity in the night, occasionally broken by drunken chants of merchants, but only for seconds at a time.

Ella adored the Moon Market. The storytellers, jugglers, and merchants gave the village folk a feeling of excitement and adventure, a taste of what lay beyond their small circle. There was so much to see, so many places to go. She knew she could not stay in The Glade forever, and Rhett knew that too. She had never known anyone like him. Ever since Haem’s death, he had always been there for her. He was her rock.

She said she would meet him by the outer edge of the town, by the large green tent with the golden trim and a snow-white cap. It skirted the low wall of the market square, where the merchants had pitched.

Ella heard the crunch of freeze-dried leaves beneath her feet as she made her way through the streets. She cursed herself for not bringing her long cloak as she rubbed her hands up and down her arms. As she turned the corner around Iwan Swett’s butcher shop, the white cap of the tent came into sight, followed by its murky green canopy.

“I was worried you had decided to stay warm by the fire.” Rhett smiled as he strode over to Ella, not waiting for her to come to him. He was tall compared to most in The Glade, with a strong chest, thick arms, and jet-black hair that was uncommon around the villages. Rhett Fjorn’s parents had come from Berona when they were only teenagers, to build a new life for themselves.

He traced his fingers along her cheek. The callouses at their tips felt rough against her skin, but not in an unpleasant way. There was something uniquely comforting about the feeling.

She gazed up at him, taking a moment to admire how handsome he was, then placed a gentle kiss on his lips. “There are other ways to keep warm.” Ella gave him a wry smile before wrapping her arms around him.

“Really?” he said with a laugh. He pursed his lips and shrugged. “I can’t think of any.”

“Oh go away, you,” Ella said, giving him a half-hearted shove.

Rhett laughed at her again. Small creases formed at the corner of his eyes as his smile grew wider. He always did that – smiled with his eyes. He bit the corner of his lip as he held her gaze, only for a moment, before taking her hand and leading her back towards the village streets. “Come on. A group of merchants at the southern edge of the village told me they will be playing music long into the night.”

“Okay, okay.” Ella tried to add a disapproving tone into her voice, but it was not an easy task.

“I’ll miss this,” Rhett said, gazing around. He laughed as his eyes rested on the comatose body of Marlo Egon, an empty tankard of mead in his left hand. “Every time,” he chuckled.

“I know, but we still have plenty of time. We won’t leave till after The Proving, and that’s not for a few weeks.” She nestled her head against his shoulder. “As soon as we are set up in Berona, we will come back to visit, and we can leave notes to make sure they won’t worry.”

Rhett’s lips pulled to the corner of his mouth as he let out a sigh. He kissed the top of Ella’s head and pulled her closer to him as they walked. She knew that he wanted to start a life with her in Berona, but he was unsure about leaving this way. They didn’t have a choice, though. Her father would never let them just leave. He would never forgive Rhett.

“Rhett, I—”

A deep growl came from down one of the side streets, followed by shouting.

“Get him off me!” came a shrill voice.

Rhett gave Ella a look that she knew meant for her to stay where she was. He took off around the corner without a moment’s hesitation.

“Ella!”

She hurried around the corner after him. Two young boys were strewn out on the floor. Rhett knelt beside one of them with his hand slipped under the back of his head. A greyish-white wolfpine sat curled up beside the boys, blood lining its mouth.

Ella’s eyes narrowed as she stared at the wolfpine. “Is that Faenir?”

The wolfpine lifted his head at the mention of his name and padded over to Ella. He rubbed his back against her leg with a