Page 62 of Ruin

She trusted Ruin completely. If anyone could get them out of this, it was him.

And if he couldn't? In that moment, it hit her that she wasn't actually afraid to die. Not anymore. She'd tasted freedom, felt love, and found friendship. That was more than she'd ever dared hope for in her old life.

A sudden whoop from Hush made her jump. “Ah fuck, yeah! Look who decided to join the party.”

Her breath caught as a massive ship materialized from the inky void of space. Its hull was matte black and marred by scorchmarks, dents, and patches, but the imperfections only added to the air of aggression and menace it gave off.

This wasn’t a pleasure cruiser—it was a weapon. Those scars were proof that it’d seen more than its share of battles and had always come out the victor.

Even without Hush’s excitement, she would’ve known this was the Vengeance.

Working together with the unseen pilot of that huge, intimidating ship, they took out the remaining fighters in no time.

“Suck on that, you fuckin’ murderers!” Hush crowed when the last shuttle exploded.

Ruin gave him a look. “You say that like we aren’t also murderers.”

Hush brushed that off with a flick of his tail. “Yeah, but we’re not assholes about it.”

Ruin paused, then nodded, as if that was a solid point.

“Woo! Let’s go home, kids.”

Chapter 20

Once they were moored in the docking bay of the Vengeance, Lira unstrapped from the jump seat while the guys went through power-down procedures.

Nerves filled her stomach like angryspatflies.

She was about to meet the people that were, essentially, Ruin’s family.

What if they didn’t like her? She was about the farthest thing from a mercenary as a person could get. She wasn’t big or scary or good in a fight.

Okay, maybe that last one wasn’t entirely true. She hadn’t actually done too badly in the last two fights she’d been in.

Feeling a little better, she peered down at herself and immediately winced. She was dirty from being in the ductwork and there were some blood spatters staining her clothes. Should she try to clean up? Or… since she was about to disembark onto a ship full of mercenaries and assassins, maybe the blood and dirt would make her fit in better.

Ruin’s approach stalled any more anxious spiraling. “Ready, bird?”

Craning her head back, she offered a grimacing smile. “I’m nervous.”

He drew her against his side as they left the flight deck and headed for the gangplank.

On her other side, Hush patted the top of her head with his tail. “Don’t be nervous, tiny human. No one’d dare be mean to you, knowin’ you’re Ruin’s.”

Warmth suffused her. As much as Hush’s reassurance, and that he cared enough to reassure her in the first place, meant to her, that wasn’t what caused the majority of it.

It was being called Ruin’s.

That warmth kept the nerves at bay when they stepped off the gangplank and into the docking bay. The unexpectedly messy docking bay. Her brows rose.

There was stuff everywhere. Tools, half disassembled…somethings. That one might be a short distance shuttle? And that pile of scrap might’ve been an enclosed terrarover.

Her fingers twitched and her mind instinctively began piecing together those random parts, working through how to put them back together again.

“Ayyy,” a masculine voice called out, making her jolt.

A Drifter with red skin half a shade lighter than Hush’s approached, smiling brightly at the guys and wiping his grease-covered hands on a rag. She didn’t think he could see her yet,and tensed, wondering what his reaction would be when he could.

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