Page 2 of Savage Union

“My older brother just claimed his Fated Mate,” I said. “They have a beautiful Binding Ceremony planned.”

“Well, it sounds like someone wants their big day to bespecial,” Grr. Malofice said, smiling broadly in a way that showed his yellowed teeth. They nearly matched the color of his withered horns. “Please—won’t the two of you have a seat?” he asked, making a sweeping gesture to the two chairs across from his.

“We’d love to.” Lyrah shot me a murderous look as we got settled. Clearly she wanted me to sit still and shut up—but I wasn’t prepared to do that.

“So, your mother tells me—” Grr. Malofice began.

“Lyrah is mystepmother,” I interrupted, correcting him. “And once again I want to be clear—I’mnotlooking for a husband or to enter into a Binding of any kind.”

I was trying to nip the whole business in the bud, but it seemed that matters had already progressed beyond that point.

“That’s all right, young lady,” Grr. Malofice said pleasantly. “It doesn’t matter ifyou’relooking for a husband or not because yourSirehas decided that you are. And it just so happens thatIam looking for a wife.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I said blankly.

“It means your father has put me in charge of finding you the perfect husband and as you can see, Ihave.”Lyrah smiled brightly at me. “Jessina, meet your future lord and husband.” And she nodded proudly at Grr. Malofice.

“No,” I said flatly, looking at the old man across from me. “You’re joking.”

“I would never joke about such an important subject as your future happiness, dear daughter.” Lyrah gave me a poisonous smile, her green eyes snapping.

“You’re a lovely young lady and I’m sure we can make each otherveryhappy.” Grr. Malofice leered at me again, his eyes running up and down my body and lingering on my breasts. They may not be the biggest, but they’re perky and I was currently wishing that I’d worn something that covered them better than the thinTrixiansilk top I had on which showed the points of my nipples.

“I very much doubt that’s true,” I said coldly, folding my arms over my chest to hide myself.

“I don’t.” He gave me a self-satisfied grin—clearly he thought he had me in the bag—bought and paid for—and there was nothing I could do about it. “Now, don’t fret—I’m prepared to beextremelygenerous with your allowance, my dear. You’ll be ableto buy anything your pretty little heart desires to wear—your closet will bestuffedwith pretty little dresses.”

While down below I’d be stuffed with…I didn’t want to think about that.

“Stepmotherdear,”I said to Lyrah through gritted teeth. “I feel the need to visit the ladies room. Would you please come with me?”

Lyrah gave me a nasty look.

“Not now, Jessina. You need to get to know your husband-to-be.”

“Yes,now,” I said and rose from the table. “I’m going—you can come with me or not,” I added and walked out of the dining room.

“Jessina, what do you think you’re doing?” she hissed at me, as we entered the elaborately decorated ladies room together. The wallpaper was made of living velvet that flowed in endless pink and gold patterns and there was a row of gold-framed, floor-to-ceiling mirrors on one wall.

I studied myself in one of the mirrors, avoiding my stepmother’s furious gaze.

I’m only half Brute myself. My mother wasYerbishian,so instead of the pearly grey skin tones of most of the people around me, my skin is a creamy brown. My eyes, though, show my father’s side of my heritage. They’re a clear, pale amber with no other color at all. I’m tall for a woman and I have what you might call a “boyish figure” all except for my breasts, which are medium-sized and firm. My hair is long and thick and black—it falls to the middle of my back.

I don’t know if you’d call me pretty—I wouldn’t. My features are delicate but still too strong to be cute. Still, I have a straight nose and full lips so I’m not ugly—I’m just not “feminine enough” at least to hear my stepmother tell it.

Speaking of Lyrah, she was mad enough to spit. Her poison green eyes were flashing as she glared at me in the mirror. Her hair—currently dyed green and purple—was piled up in a fashionable up-do on top of her head and her designer top and skirt combo, which was pink with lime green stripes, clung to her huge fake breasts and enormous bubble-butt.

“You can pout all you want, young lady,” she said to me. “But you’regoingto marry Grr. Malofice and you’re going to do it with a smile on your face. Your father has given me free reign to choose your husband and I’ve made an excellent choice.”

“An excellent choice? He’s old enough to be my GrandSire!” I exploded, glaring back at her. “There’s no way I’m Binding myself to him!”

Lyrah made a sound likehrrumph.

“Youneedan older male with a steady hand to keep you in line, my dear,” she sniffed. “Besides, Grr. Malofice is one of the richest merchants on all of Rigelis Nine! Why, he practicallyownsthe garment district. He can get you discounts on all the latest fashions!”

“You mean he can getyoudiscounts on the latest fashions!” I exclaimed. I could see what was happening here—my stepmother was basically trading me away to a horny old man in order to assure herself of a lifetime of free or discounted clothes. Her whole criteria in choosing a husband for me was all about whatshecould get out of it.

“There is apossibilitythat Grr. Malofice might be willing to give me a few discounts as well,” she acknowledged coolly. “But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s excellent husband material. Didn’t you hear me before? He’sextremelyrich!”

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