Page 3 of Ruin

After no more than a second, he looked back down at her, utterly captivating her with those burning amber orbs. They bored into her in a way that should’ve terrified her, yet didn't.

Instead, she feltseen.

Between one breath and the next, Lira could’ve sworn she saw resolve setting in those eyes and hoped, gods she hoped… and then he stood.

Her pulse skyrocketed.

The Lurian's muscular form cut an imposing silhouette as he stalked across the dingy bar. From her place on the floor at Vargot’s tentacles, Lira stared, entranced by the fluid way he moved. She took in his massive size, letting her gaze crawl down his frame to the array of wicked blades sheathed at his muscular thighs.

As he drew closer and closer, she tensed more and more.

Was he really walking toward her? Did that resolve she’d seen have anything to do with her, or was this yet another moment where her mind was playing tricks?

She knew better than to hope, knew better than to think anyone would save her and, yet…

He didn’t stop. He didn’t save her. He didn’t even glance at her while he walked past her and out of the bar.

Lira watched him go, a smile on her lips even as her chest caved in on itself.

“Enjoyin’ the view, pet?” Vargot taunted, one of his slick tentacles curling around her throat. “That one’d sooner fuck you bloody as look at you twice.”

“Yes, Vargot,” she whispered, knowing it was what he wanted to hear.

With a grunt of disgust, he knocked back another swig of his fishy smelling drink and signaled his lackeys. “Let's get this next collection done. I got other shit needs tendin’.”

Lira stumbled along, shoved and jostled by Vargot and his bodyguards as they exited the hazy confines of the bar.

She barely paid attention, lost in reliving, memorizing, those few moments with the Lurian.

It didn’t matter that he hadn’t saved her.

She could fix that in her imagination.

Chapter 2

The stench of refuse and rot permeating the filthy alleyway clogged her nose and made her stomach turn nauseatingly, but those were distant things, easily ignored.

Unfortunately, the sharp bite of brokenplasiformslicing into her feet was far less easily ignored.

Unhappily surfacing from her daydream, Lira focused on the ground, tiptoeing carefully to avoid any more cuts on her already bleeding soles. Refusing to give her shoes was one of Vargot’s very effective methods to prevent her from running.

Hard to make your escape when your feet were bare and bleeding.

Despite the pain, she didn’t make a sound. Vargot hated whimpering. Said it made his cochlea ache.

Between one step and the next, a sense, or maybe a shift in the air, had her looking up just in time to see a hulking shadow detach itself from the darkness.

Recognition was instant, but it took longer to determine the Lurian was real and not a figment of her imagination.

In fact, it wasn’t until she felt warm blood splatter her chest and neck that she was sure.

Moving with exquisitely lethal precision, the male attacked Vargot's bodyguards first. Metal glinted in the low light, dancing through the air in hypnotic swirls and flashing arcs as he severed limbs and opened throats.

Crimson sprayed the graffiti-covered walls in grisly streaks and pooled on the filthy ground.

When the last guard fell, he laid into the lackeys, who hadn’t had time to react, let alone run. Screams were abruptly choked off into gurgles. Body after body fell, joining the growing mound.

Through it all, Lira stared, transfixed.

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