Chapter 8
Emry“Looks like a bachelor pad,” Emry said.
Ren had carried her the entire journey through the station to his ship, oblivious to the stares and whispers as they passed. She smiled and waved to their audience because this was totally normal and fine.
Nothing to see here.
And if some of those stares had been more envious than concerned, well, the same applied.
He set her down in front of what could be politely described as a vintage ship with lots of charm and fixer-upper potential. Maybe the unrestrained—and questionable—taste level of Pashaal’s ship skewed her expectations, but Ren’s ship did not seem spaceworthy. Or safe.
Rusted to the point of being unable to find an original paint color, the ship was a heap of mismatched parts welded together.
“She is a beauty,” he said
