Page 6 of Savage Union

Reaching down, I stroked her cheek with the backs of my fingers. So soft and warm…so innocent. She stirred and a soft moan escaped her lips but she didn’t wake again. I wondered if she was dreaming of her Fated Mate—she must be, since those were the words she’d spoken. Whoever he was, I hoped he would treat her right.

I left her asleep in her bed and never told a soul about what had happened at the club. But it made me feel protective of Jessina. Later on, I gave her a talking to about not sneaking into clubs while she was underage and about how she shouldneverfuckingevertake a drink offered by someone she didn’t know.

“Order a drink in a bottle or a squeeze-bulb if you’re thirsty and be sure to keep it in your hand at all times so nobody can tamper with it,” I lectured her the next day. “Never trust any of the guys you meet at those places—half of them are fucking rapists! You could have died last night if I hadn’t seen you!”

She listened with wide eyes and nodded when I was finished.

“I’m sorry, Turk. I just wanted to be with you. I mean, with you guys—with the Crew, you know?” she added hastily.

“Yeah, well we don’t always go places that are safe for a woman on her own,” I told her. “This time you got lucky—I might not see you next time. So please promise me you won’t try that again.”

Jessina nodded.

“I promise. And thank you for saving me.”

“I’m just glad I saw you in time.” There was a tight feeling in my chest when I thought of what might have happened if I hadn’t decided I was thirsty just at the right moment to see her at the bar.

“I’m glad too. Thank you, Turk.” Jessina threw her arms around me, giving me a big hug…as big as she could manage, anyway. She was such a tiny little thing. But then, anyone looks tiny to a Brute Enforcer—not a single one of us is under seven feet. It’s the Clan genes—they don’t quit.

I hugged her back and stroked her long, silky hair. She felt so fragile in my arms—I wished I could protect her forever.

“You’re welcome, little bird,” I murmured. “I just want you to be safe. Always.”

That little incident made me feel especially close to Jessina and I couldn’t help remembering it when Slade called me and told me she was missing. I was as worried as he was—but I didn’t know if I could help, especially if she’d run off on her own, like he seemed to think.

“I’ll look for her here at the spaceport,” I offered. “But the Illyrian is about to ship out to the Triplex Cluster. We’re doing a deal with the Salashions and they’re fucking crazy about their schedule.”

“I understand.” Slade nodded. “Just call me if you hear anything. She might even call you—you’re like her second big brother, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” I nodded.

Slade would never know about that night at the club or the secret his sister and I shared. I would never betray Jessina’s confidence. But it was true that it had made her look up to me, even more than the rest of our Cross-Clan Crew.

Slade signed off and I sat at my desk for a minute, wondering where the fuck Jessina had gotten herself off to. She might be anywhere in the Imperium Galaxy by now. I prayed to She of the Four Faces my little bird was safe.

I had no idea at the time how close she really was.

3

JESSINA

Ihad suspected that my brother’s best friend, Turk, was my Fated Mate from the moment I met him. It’s called The Lightning Strike—the feeling anyone with Brutal blood in their veins feels when they first come in contact with the one person that the Goddess of Four Faces has set aside exclusively for them.

I felt it the first time Turk touched my hand—like an electrical tingle that ran through my whole body, making my nipples painfully tight and my pussy embarrassingly wet. But I was young then—I was unsure if what I’d felt was real or just wishful thinking.

It didn’t help that Turk didn’t show any signs of The Lightning Strike himself. Not everyone with Brute blood feels it, though. Sometimes the realization comes on gradually.

It made me wonder if my brother’s best friend would ever feel for me what I felt for him.

Turk is tall and muscular and strong. Not to mention he’s easy on the eyes. At seven feet, he’s considerably taller than me and he has the pearly gray skin of all those who have the blood of the Brutal Clans in their veins. (I am a rare exception myself.)

His dark hair has a slight wave to it and he has eyes that nearly match his horns, which are bronze—a sign of his high status within Clan Savage. He captains a ship called The Illyrian and they often go to neighboring galaxies to import rare and illegal cargo.

That was where I was running—to the Illyrian. But of course, I couldn’t go there as myself or even let Turk know who I was. He would probably just send me right back to my father’s mansion or turn me over to Slade. My big brother was kind, but ultimately if our father demanded that he return me to the family mansion, Slade would have to comply.

Which meant I needed a disguise—a really good one. So I took a hover-cab to the one place I knew I could get exactly what I needed.

“I need a complete sex-change simulation,” I told the Synth dealer, once I was seated across from him in the small, grimy booth in the side alley where he did business.

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