Page 65 of Ravaged By the Reaper
Stillness.
I sit there.
A second too long.
Then I turn.
He's beside me, silent, like a coiled shadow. One hand on the throttle, the other braced against the canopy frame. His jaw is set. Eyes still burning. His armor’s dented, smeared with carbon scoring. There's a gash across his shoulder plate.
He’s alive.
We’re alive.
And the cockpit istoosmall. Too full of what wedid. What weare.
“You almost got us killed,” I snarl, voice cracking on the edge of a growl.
He turns his head, slow, deliberate. A smirk creeps across his face—so calm it infuriates me.
“And you loved it.”
Bastard.
I unclip my harness so fast it snaps. My body still feels like fire and momentum, like I haven’t quite landed yet. My fists are trembling as I slam one against his chestplate—hard enough to make him grunt.
“Asshole.”
“You’re welcome.”
I hit him again.
And then I kiss him.
Hard.
It’s not soft. It’s not sweet. It’s teeth and salt and sweat and sparks, like kissing the mouth of a storm. His hands fly to my sides, dragging me into his lap like gravity lost its mind.
I don’t care.
Ican’tcare.
Because he gets it. He getsme. The way I burn, the way I rise, the way I tear down gods when they stand in my way. And he met me blow for blow in the black—never flinched.
He didn’t protect me.
Hefought with me.
His mouth claims mine with that same heat, the same promise. One hand fists in my hair. The other grips my hip like he’s anchoring himself to this plane of reality through me alone.
The ship creaks around us, and I don’t give a damn.
I want this.
Now.
“Say it,” I hiss against his lips, biting the edge of his jaw. “Say you didn’t want that chaos. That you didn’t love every second of us in that fight.”
He growls low in his throat, lips dragging fire down my neck.
