Page 7 of Ruin

She extended her legs obediently. Circling a delicate ankle, he steadied her leg and examined the wounds with a critical eye. Nothing too deep, but painful nonetheless. The Mogovian, that sadistic fuck, probably enjoyed watching her suffer.

Ruin clenched his jaw as he selected a dermal regenerator from the kit. The device hummed as he ran it over her injuries, knitting the flesh back together in seconds.

Lira gasped, eyes wide as she stared at her now healed feet in shock. “How- they’re healed! What is that?”

“Dermal regenerator. Uses nanites to clean and repair lacerations.”

She peered at the device in awe. “I didn’t know such devices existed.”

His stomach twisted. That Mogovian piece of shit.

Lira stared at him for a moment, gaze uncomfortably perceptive, then sighed and asked quietly, “These are common devices, aren’t they?”

He had to swallow down the growl rising in his throat before answering. “Yeah.”

She nodded. “Vargot said my scars reminded me of my place. That pain was the only teacher I needed.”

White-hot fury surged through his veins, but he pushed it down. Getting angry wouldn't fix anything. All he could do was try to make things a little easier for her now.

Teeth gritted, he finished tending Lira's wounds, then rose to his feet and returned to the crates to pick out some new clothing for her.

Nothing was gonna fit her petite frame. All the clothes he had were for him and he was twice her size, easy. Settling on a simple tunic and trousers, he handed her the bundle and tipped his head towards the cleansing room.

“Go wash up. I’ll make us food.”

Clothes clutched to her chest, she padded into the cleansing room. It was a derelict little space, all cracked tiles and chipped plasiform fixtures, but the sonic shower still functioned.

“I'll be out here if you need anything.”

The words felt strange on his tongue. When was the last time he offered such a sentiment to anyone?

If Lira found his declaration odd, she gave no sign. Just nodded, a grateful smile playing about her lips.

“Thank you, Ruin.”

Something twinged in his chest at the sound of his name in her soft voice. He turned away before he could examine the feeling too closely, but couldn’t resist a glance back.

Through the gap where the door didn't quite seal, he caught a glimpse of pale skin crisscrossed with scars, some old and faded, others still livid against her flesh. Rage and sorrow warredwithin him at the sight, mingling with a fierce protectiveness that startled him with its intensity.

He jerked his gaze away, giving her the privacy she deserved. This little human was awakening instincts he'd thought long dead, buried beneath the weight of the blood on his hands.

Why in the thirteen hells did she affect him like this? What was it about her that called to him on such a primal level? He wasn’t inexperienced with females, yet not one had captivated him the way she did.

Shaking off those disconcerting thoughts, he set about making the hideout more habitable, sweeping the floor and wiping down surfaces until the room almost passed for clean. All the while, he wrestled with the potential complications of his impulsive rescue.

Lira was a wildcard, an unknown quantity in the carefully controlled chaos of his existence.

By saving her, he'd taken on a responsibility he wasn't sure he was equipped to handle. He was an assassin, a mercenary. Not a caregiver. What the fuck did he know about helping someone heal from the kind of trauma she'd endured?

And yet... he couldn't bring himself to regret his actions. Not when he thought about the desperate hope in her eyes as she'd reached for him, the way her slight weight had felt cradled against his chest.

Like she belonged there, in the circle of his arms.

He stole a glance toward the cleansing room, listening to the faint hum of the sonic shower. Despite the risks, despite thecomplications, he knew he'd do it all again in a heartbeat. For her.

By the time she emerged, dressed in the oversized clothes, the food was ready and the room was as clean as it was gonna get. The bed was unwrapped, and he’d made a pallet on the floor for himself.

He turned to greet her and froze, struck momentarily speechless.

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