Page 6 of Ruin (Villains for Hire)

R uin remained watchful as they got off the lift on level six and wove through the crowded pathways. Lira remained glued to his side, her delicate frame all but swallowed by his bulk as he shielded her from the jostle of bodies.

Throwing a glance over one shoulder, he scanned the throngs for a tail, ears perked. Satisfied, he slipped down a narrow side passage, the sounds of the main thoroughfare fading as they delved deeper.

“Where are we going?” Lira asked.

“There’s a quieter market down this way. Figured you’d feel safer with a smaller crowd.”

Her fingers tightened around his in silent gratitude. “You sure are thoughtful for an assassin,” she murmured with a playful lilt.

He snorted. “Only with you.”

“Mm, that just makes it better,” she whispered.

The words were said so softly he was sure she hadn’t meant for him to hear. But he had.

He fought a losing battle with a smile, his enamored gaze softening as he glanced down at the top of her head.

The din of bartering and alien dialects mingling grew as they neared the market. Spices, roasting meats, and a hundred other exotic aromas hung thick in the recycled air.

They turned down a side street, tucked between two towering hab units. Ducking his head under a line of hanging clothes, Ruin slowed to scan the faces when they emerged into the plaza.

This level was different from those he usually spent time on. Intended for the permanent residents of the spaceport, the crowds were thinner, the atmosphere calmer.

A vibrant array of stalls and kiosks spilled across the open-air plaza, the sprawl of fabric awnings and simulated sun-warmed paths a welcoming departure from the dark, sordid levels below.

Angling his head down, he caught Lira's pale green eyes rounding with wonder, lingering on the colorful wares.

“You’re right. It is quieter here. That’s nice.” She glanced up at him, gaze soft. “Thank you.”

He led her forward at an unhurried pace, letting her absorb the sights—the riotous colors, the elaborate displays, the hanging baskets overflowing with lush alien foliage.

As they walked farther into the market, her attention bounced from one vendor to the next. Though she still flinched at sudden loud sounds and voices, she was visibly dazzled by the array of exotic goods.

In between sweeps, Ruin found his own gaze lingering far longer than necessary on the fullness of her smiling lips, the delicate arch of her neck as she strained to take in their surroundings, and the glint of sunlight catching in the pale strands of her hair dancing in the simulated breeze.

Moving from stall to stall, he watched the way her face lit up at the handcrafted metalwork, oohing over delicate inlays. He smiled at the way she gasped at a stall filled with caged singing sphinx moths, their multi-hued wings shifting in prismatic rainbows.

With every minute that passed, she relaxed a little more, flinched a little less. Her smiles came quicker, brighter. And with every one, his heart swelled.

Fuck, he was getting soft. Getting attached.

This was exactly the kind of shit that’d get him killed on a job. He needed to shut it down before those threads binding them together grew too strong to sever.

But then she turned that radiant smile on him, the scar on her cheek crinkling, and all thoughts of detachment fled.

He steered her toward a garment vendor's booth, wanting to get her some clothing that actually fit. Bolts of fabrics in dozens of shades and textures spilled from the stall, hanging in artful cascades.

“See anythin’ you like, little bird?”

She craned her head back to give him a startled look. “Me?”

He nodded. “You need clothes that fit. Pick out whatever you like.”

Lira blinked up at him, expression cautiously hopeful. “Really?”

“Really.”

The elderly Throgian female running the stall bustled over, her shimmering purple skin catching the light as she moved. Lira shrank back, the move appearing reflexive, until Ruin settled a hand on her lower back in silent reassurance.

“Welcome!” the vendor trilled, all four of her eyes crinkling with delight. “Ah, a Lurian and his pretty little mate. How may I assist?”

Ignoring the heat creeping up the tips of his ears at her assumption, he nodded politely, then tipped his head toward Lira. “She needs a new wardrobe.”

“Wonderful, wonderful! Come, sweet girl. Let Veyla take care of you.”

With gentle ushering and an encouraging nod from him, Lira disappeared behind a thick curtain and into a private alcove where customers could change.

As soon as they were out of sight, he prowled the perimeter of the stall. Once he was confident it was secure, he relaxed fractionally, leaning back against the counter.

When the attendant emerged, she gave him a sly, sidelong glance. “You're very protective of your mate.”

He frowned, discomfited by how right the title felt.

Lira wasn't his mate. But fuck if he didn't feel possessive as all hells about her.

Veyla clucked sympathetically, as if reading his thoughts. “New love is always so intense, is it not? I remember my Kavo looking at me like you do her—like I was the only female that mattered in all the galaxies.”

New love? That wasn’t what this was. Couldn't be.

Could it?

His spiraling thoughts scattered when Lira emerged in a simple but elegant floor-length dress. The silky fabric, pale as moonslight, skimmed her lithe frame in all the right places, the swooping neckline hinting at the alluring curves beneath.

The breath strangled in his throat. She was a vision, all creamy skin and tousled hair, a shy yet slightly devilish smile playing on those full lips.

Fuck.

What he wouldn't give to run his hands over those curves, to discover if her skin was as silken as it appeared. To taste her, breathe her in, learn every inch of her until he knew her better than he did himself.

He swallowed hard, cock giving a traitorous twitch as heat blazed through his veins.

“Ruin?” Her soft voice broke through his lustful haze. “What do you think?”

Clearing his throat, he raked his gaze over her slowly, committing every delicious inch to memory. “You look good, little bird.”

Good enough to eat.

If he thought he’d managed to keep the hunger out of his voice, the blush staining her cheeks proved otherwise.

Her smile became a little less shy and a little more devilish. “Thank you.”

When she ducked back behind the curtain, he forced himself to focus on something—anything—else.

The next hour passed in a blur of shimmering silks and flowing fabrics. Each time she emerged in a new outfit, his mouth went dry, fresh desire slamming into him like a physical force.

Veyla assisted Lira in choosing pieces that would not only look striking but allow for easy movement and concealment of the weapons he planned to buy for her.

Finished, he handed over a loaded cred-stick, the cost a negligible expense given how rarely he indulged in... anything, really.

Lira's eyes rounded at the pile of parcels Veyla set on the counter. “Ruin, I- I didn’t mean to get so much. I’m sorr?—”

“Sst. None of that.” He tipped her face up and cupped her cheek, laying his thumb across her lips. “You deserve nice things, little bird. An’ I got plenty of money.”

She leaned into his touch, those arresting green eyes shining with an emotion he didn’t dare name.

“C’mon,” he said gruffly. “There’s more to see before we eat.”

Before they left the clothing stall, he handed her a long hooded cloak, a tracker, and two kha’rov blades already affixed to the inner lining.

She pulled it on eagerly, adjusting the hood so it shaded her features and left only a wisp of pale hair visible.

“Perfect,” he rumbled, appreciating the way the soft fabric draped over her frame, but appreciating even more the sense of security he could tell it gave her to be concealed from prying eyes.

She took his arm without hesitation when he offered it, hugging it to her chest.

They meandered deeper into the maze of stalls and vendors, pausing every so often as something new caught her eye. She'd trail her fingertips over a display of glittering jewels or pause to inhale the fragrance of exotic flowers, radiating a sense of innocent awe that was utterly beguiling.

Ruin found himself snagging little trinkets and baubles for her whenever she showed the slightest interest, unable to resist the impulse. Not that he was actually trying to resist.

A set of delicate armbands etched with flowering vines. A dainty necklace strung with a pale gemstone the color of her eyes. Hairpins and anklets and rings and knives.

The collection grew with every stall they visited.

At one point, she glanced up at him with a knowing smile. “If you keep buying stuff when you think I’m not looking, we’re not going to be able to carry it all back.”

He slanted her a look. “You questionin’ my bag-carrying prowess?”

Amusement danced in her gaze. “Sure am.”

Ruin huffed a laugh, surprising himself. How long had it been since he'd laughed? Too damn long.

“Fine, fine.”

They could always come back to the market after he killed his target and do some more shopping. Outside of weapons, buying shit for himself hadn’t ever been something he enjoyed. But buying things for her? That, he found he enjoyed immensely.

“C’mon. Let’s get some food in you.”

“Mm, yes please. I’m starved.”

They headed toward the cluster of food stalls, the aroma of spiced meats and sizzling vegetables making his mouth water.

Lira lifted her nose into the air, little nostrils flaring adorably. “That smells so good.”

Ruin smirked down at her, the tips of his fangs peeking out. “You flatter me, little bird.”

She gaped up at him for a split second, then bumped her shoulder into his arm with a giggle. “Not you. The food!”

Chuckling, he led her to the vendor who’d caught her nose. They ordered a variety of skewers and flatbreads, dripping with sauces and spices, and an assortment of sweets.

Once their meal was ready, they claimed a table in a quiet, secluded corner on the fringes of the marketplace.

He hoped the food would provide a distraction from the steady thrum of awareness building beneath his skin with every shy yet increasingly heated glance from Lira, every brush of her body against his. Hoped it’d give him time to collect himself.

His hopes were ruthlessly, gloriously squashed when she sat right next to him on the bench, thigh pressed tight to his.

She leaned in close, staring at the food like she was trying to decide what to choose first while he stared at her like he wanted to feast on her instead.

Gods, if this female didn’t have him twisted up.

“What looks good?” he rasped thickly.

She didn’t seem to notice the huskiness in his voice, thank fuck, gaze still locked onto the food. “All of it?”

Chuckling, he slid the stuffed ji’la bread closer. “Try this. It’s one of my favorites.”

She tore off a chunk, dipped it in the thick spiced sauce, and brought it to her lips. Ruin watched, transfixed, as her lids drooped, pleasure spreading across her face. He damn near groaned out loud when her tongue darted out to catch a stray drop of sauce at the corner of her mouth.

It was tiny, slick, and the single most lurid, erotic shade of pink he’d ever seen in his entire fucking life.

“You like it?” he asked, voice coming out rougher than intended.

“Mmm,” Lira hummed. “I love it. Here, you have to try.”

She tore off a piece and held it up to his lips. Ruin hesitated for the briefest moment before opening. Looping his long black tongue around the bread and her fingers, twice, he slid the bite out of her grip and into his mouth.

Lira zeroed in on his mouth, eyes wide, lips parted, that pretty blush coloring her cheeks once more. It took everything he had to keep from grinning wickedly.

“You’re right. It’s delicious,” he purred.

“Hmm? Yeah,” she murmured, sounding very distracted, gaze still locked on his lips.

By some silent agreement, they continued feeding each other, the tension between them ratcheting up another torturous notch with every bite, every touch.

That tension didn’t ease one fucking bit as they made their way back to the hideout.

The moment he secured the door and turned around, Lira launched herself into his arms.

Her kiss was hungry, demanding—all teeth and desperate licks and needy whimpers that punched straight through to his soul. He growled low and gathered her closer.

“Please,” she whispered feverishly against his lips. “Please, Ruin. I need you… ”

How the fuck could he deny her when she begged so pretty?