Chapter 3 Ruined
~ brEN ~
“…There you are.” The sound of Ruin’s voice in the barn, a full hour early, made me want to dance.
I ducked under the neck of the horse I’d been brushing, and ran to him, throwing myself into his arms—welcoming his kiss, his hands on me, the warmth of his iron chest as he picked me up off my feet and devoured me, hands already clawing in my skirts.
“There she is,” he panted again, then stopped any reply I might have made with his tongue in my mouth, and the first of his touches on my legs, under my skirts.
My skin tingled and rushed.
My heart raced.
“Here I am!” I whispered happily against his lips as he set me back on my feet and began walking me towards the ladder.
I sucked out of the memory, staggering back a step as Ruin’s chin dropped and his grin tipped up on one side. “You always were good about waiting for me.”
“How the fuck did you find me?” The words should have been stronger. Angrier. A lot less shaky.
“How the fuck did you learn to fly like that?” he purred, then stepped all the way into the room and closed the door behind him.
He turned his back to me—
Stab him, right now, right between his ribs.
—locked the door and faced me again, that key disappearing somewhere into his leathers. His Furyknight leathers. Flying leathers.
His gaze was brilliant, and never left mine.
“Answer me,” I hissed. “How did you know—”
“Here’s the thing I can’t figure out,” he said, as if I hadn’t even spoken, keeping his voice low.
“You’re riding dragons, flying like a fucking fiend, wearing leathers, and running straight to the safehouse only some Furyknights know about.
” He tipped his head to the side and his eyes narrowed.
“Yet, you’re a fucking woman. Not just a woman, a bloody farmgirl.
They don’t even let women in the Academy. ”
“Fuck off. Leave. Right now—”
“Donavyn’s assistant? A stupid Lord might believe that, but you won’t pull the wool over my eyes. He’s training you? Why?!” His expression was genuinely confused. “I mean, the sex was good, Brenny. But not that good.”
“Don’t you ever say my name again!”
His face hardened and he started towards me, his boots clomping on the wooden floor.
“Now, this is where it gets strange. Because I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it for myself.
But every time I get to the part where women don’t ride dragons, and the Furyknights don’t train them, I’m reminded that I just watched you ride a fucking roll.
” He tapped his temple and his eyes narrowed.
“And then I’m right back at the beginning, asking myself what the actual fuck you could possibly offer Donavyn Arsen that would convince him to train you—let alone, convince a fucking dragon to let you ride it—”
“You bastard.” I hated that he could hear the tears pinching my throat, but I had to let him think that I was helpless again. Had to keep him cocky. He was confused and distracted, and walking towards me with that cocky swagger I’d seen a million times.
He shook his head, his expression half-mocking, and half-admiring. “I mean, you look great in the leathers. I can’t deny that. But this isn’t a costume, is it? You weren’t faking, so that means there’s really only one question left.”
He stopped within arms reach, head tilted, eyes pinning me to the floor.
“Are you one of us? A spy? Or did you just make the most of hanging on to the next fellow’s arm?
What am I saying—the General’s arm. Holy shit.
Fabulous choice.” He began to clap slowly, mockingly.
“A complete coup if you’ve actually done it.
Even I can admit that.” He raised his hands like I’d pointed a weapon at him, shaking his head.
But his eyes gleamed with malicious light.
Every fiber of my body hummed with anticipation—but not the kind it used to.
I knew how fast he was. Knew how strong he was—and in fact, it looked like he’d filled out even more since he’d been gone. If I moved first, his guard would go up and I’d be finished.
Leathers or not, flying or not, he still saw the farmgirl in front of him, and I needed that.
So, I pretended to shrink—and he took the bait. As I slipped back half a step, he followed, his eyes flashing like a predator’s on prey.
“You don’t need to be scared, Brenny,” he whispered. “I’m just here for answers… It would be irresponsible of me, a sworn Furyknight, to let you impersonate one of us, even if you’re being enabled by the fucking Battle Commander.”
But then his eyes scanned down my body and he finally stepped up to my toes, tongue tracing his lower lip as he lifted one hand, two fingers outstretched, to stroke the outside of my breast with his fingertips.
And then I struck. A lightning-fast one-two, whipping one arm up in a circle to push his hand away, the other snapping forward, the heel of my palm right into his sternum—praying I’d been strong enough to crack the bone, because that would keep him down.
But even though he grunted, and flinched, it didn’t slow him in the slightest.
He caught my arm at the wrist as I retreated just far enough to shove the heel of my palm straight up, into his nose—but it was like being caught in the grip of a brick wall.
His brows were up—I’d surprised him—but he still didn’t see me as a threat, using that grip on my wrist to jerk me into his chest with a chuckle and twinkling eyes.
I stomped down, right on the arch of his foot, and he only had his boots to thank that I didn’t break it. But he flinched, hunching slightly—though he still hadn’t let go of my wrist.
“You need to get a fucking grip,” he snarled. “I’m—”
Right punch, straight to his navel. Knee for his groin—blocked by his other arm.
He hissed and cursed, all hint of a mocking smile gone.
But he was smart, and capable, and not about to be bested by me.
And I was exhausted. I pushed and strained, rained blow after blow on him—but I could feel myself losing steam.
Losing power. Just losing as he blocked each one—jerking, and grunting, but eventually catching both my wrists.
I growled like a cat and tried to use my knee again. But he was too tall—I only got to his thigh. Yet, he’d leaned forward an inch.
His hair fluttered when he was forced to duck so my headbutt missed his nose, and then he stopped playing.
I shrieked as he used his much-longer reach to raise my arms and force me to turn—or dislocate a shoulder—so my back was to his chest, my arms crossed in front of me and locked to my ribs, my wrists manacled in his thick hands, as unforgiving as steel.
He panted in my ear.
—his rhythmic breath, thundering in my ear, fluttering my hair, pebbling the skin on my neck—
With a sob, I made one final attempt, turning my boot out and stamping it down his shin, trying to use my hard boot sole against that sensitive skin—
Ruin whipped me off my feet, laughing when I shrieked in fear, and wrestled me under his arm, keeping my arms locked at my sides, while he hoisted me to his side, until I hung there like a child and he gripped my chin in his free hand, grinning, and shaking his head in disbelief.
“So, you’ve been training for real?” he asked, incredulous, spluttering with laughter. “I knew the Furyknights were weakening, but this has got to be a new low. I mean, very impressive, Brenny. Much better than I would have anticipated from you. If my hands were free, I’d clap,” he mocked.
I spat in his face and he jerked his head back with a curse, squeezing me so hard my breath rushed out of me.
There was a moment we wrestled, but he always had the upper hand. And in the end, I sagged in his grip, defeated and exhausted, and embarrassed.
“Aw, don’t be sad, Brenny. You did so good for a woman. Truly!” he laughed, setting me back on my feet.
We were on the other side of the room now, and I didn’t miss that the bed now stood between us and the door.
Or that he’d turned me to face it.
To my surprise, he let me go. But he’d positioned himself right at my back, no room to move except onto the bed, which he knew I wouldn’t climb onto willingly. His hot breath fluttered on my neck. I shuddered and dropped my face into my hands.
“It’s not your fault, kitten,” he whispered. “God didn’t make you for this.”
“No, he didn’t,” I whispered into my palms, then made myself look over my shoulder and meet his eye. “He also didn’t make me for perverts like you.”
Ruin’s eyes narrowed to slits, but I snapped forward at the waist, my ass hitting him right in the groin and pushing him back a half-step. As he staggered, I threw myself over the bed, scrambling for the door, and freedom.
I had just grasped the other side of the mattress and yanked myself forward, when an iron fist clamped on my ankle and caught me, then jerked me back.
I kicked, made contact with something that made him cry out.
But then both my ankles were locked and pinned and I was pulled bodily back to the other side of the bed, flipped onto my back, and my legs caught again and pulled ruthlessly apart so Ruin stood between my thighs, hands clamped under my knees and his body bent over mine, pinning me to the bed.
But then, as my fists closed on the quilts and I struggled to push him away, I realized my hands were free.
In the same moment he gripped my hair and yanked my head back—either to hurt me, or kiss me, I wasn’t sure, I whipped the small blade out of the sheath at my hip and pricked his throat with the tip of it.
Ruin froze, staring down at me, wide-eyed and unmoving, a bead of blood beginning to pool at the point of the knife.
And then he laughed. “You really have been training,” he huffed. His smile was broad and his eyes gleamed with both approval, and a promise for revenge.
“Let. Me. Go,” I snarled. “Or I will plunge this straight up and into your skull until the only thing you can see or taste is steel.”
He snorted, but did as I bade him, lifting his hands, but keeping me pinned to the bed with his hips.
“You used to love it when I touched you.”
I kept the blade against him as I pushed upright with the other arm. “I used to love you. That’s not true anymore, either. Now, it’s your turn to answer some questions: What the fuck are you doing here? And Carnage? How did you make it out of Draeventhall?”
His gaze heated and his grin widened. “But Brenny, I can’t tell you about a Furyknight mission, no matter who you fuck. Even if you were pinned, I’d still outrank you. So… you tell me: How the fuck did you find me out here?”
“She found you because she was doing her job.”
I sucked in a breath as Ruin’s head snapped up just in time for Donavyn to launch himself from the doorway, over the bed, tackling Ruin off me.
The two of them crashed to the floor in a tangle of limbs and curses.