Page 24

Hungry Like The Wolf

SAVVINE

T he restaurant’s name was Cielo Rojo .

Tucked into the heart of the Signet star destroyer’s entertainment quarter, it was all warm tile floors, mismatched wooden chairs, and wrought-iron lanterns glowing in amber light.

The interior was fragrant with fire-grilled meat, saffron, and the promise of sweet memories.

Xander held the door open for her, his eyes gleaming. He tipped his head slightly, a laconic lean she started to recognize as his version of charm.

Inside, a stocky, barrel-chested man waved from behind the counter.

‘Look who it is,’ the man boomed, wiping his hands on a grease-stained towel. ‘The prince of the hulls!’

Xander raised his chin. ‘Don’t start, my friend. Savvine meets Nacho and Lucía, old friends, and the best chefs I know. Welcome to cuisine heaven where the seats creak with stories and the food comes out steaming in cast-alloy pans big enough to feed dreams.’

Nacho sported tattoos from throat to knuckles, his salt-and-pepper hair pulled into a lazy bun, arms thick with strength and history.

Lucía, his opposite in height but not in presence, had a smile like a flare grenade and the wit of a wily survivor.

She kissed Xander’s cheek and winked at Savvine.

‘She’s a beauty, keep her, Xander,’ she said with a knowing glint. ‘Welcome to Cielo Rojo . Sit, eat, forget the galaxy’s troubles for a little while.’

She took off as Xander leaned in to Savvine.

‘Ignacio Nacho Ferran and his wife, Lucía, are former black site prisoners and rebels in the apocalypse uprising with a knack for spices and flavors. I freed them, and they started a cafe I loved. Once we left Earth, their restaurant took off, and now they’re some of the most beloved chefs of the Sombra . ’

‘Fascinating. You brought them onboard because you couldn’t bear to be parted with their food?’

He gave her a slow, sensual grin. ‘ Nada , I was saving them from a nuclear meltdown.’

‘Liar.’

They sat near the edge of the promenade balcony, where floor-to-ceiling synth plex panels revealed the bustling concourse below. Savvine leaned forward, eyes bright as she took it all in.

Multi-level platforms stretched wide, teeming with shops, cafes, med hubs, artisan stalls, and holo screens playing everything from interstellar dramas to pirate comedies.

Languages layered over each other in the air, as did skin tones of every hue.

The whole quadrant pulsed with cultural cross-sections she’d only read about in files.

‘This,’ she said, gesturing with her glass of sangria, ‘is a melting pot. The Eterna comprises mostly Italians, and we don’t mix much. Which is why I love this blend of cultures.’

Xander shrugged. ‘It wasn’t always quite this multicultural.

As you know, we started small with ex-prisoners, rebels, and the unwanted.

However, each time another ship didn’t make it in the flotilla, or people sought refuge for whatever reason, we took them in.

Survivors and families. Those fleeing violence, traders with nowhere left to dock. ’

He spoke without ceremony, sipping water as the sunlamps shifted overhead, mimicking dusk.

‘We’ve set up a food, medical, and habitation system.

We provide the basics to help build a better life, and in exchange, we ask those who seek refuge to work.

Everyone contributes up to four shifts each week, in all sectors - from kitchens to engineering and maintenance.

If you contribute, you stay. Any leeches get escorted to an airlock. ’

She studied him, curious. ‘What of those who don’t have the ability?’

He stubbed out a cheroot and glanced at her sidelong, lashes low.

‘There are always the vulnerable. The sick, lost, and strayed. I’ve been all three. We take them in and find a job they can manage. Doesn’t matter if it’s folding linen, running the engines, or painting murals on the bulkheads. It’s not charity. It’s dignity.’

His words found a soft landing in her heart.

‘Impressive.’

He gave a half shrug, like he didn’t know how to take the credit. ‘Not really. It’s just our way to ensure we don’t become the monsters we left behind.’

She blinked, his words hitting hard.

‘One more thing, Xander?’

He sliced his eyes to her and raised her chin, welcoming her question.

‘Are you all shifters?’

He tilted his head and contemplated her.

‘ Nada , not all of us. The entire Signet strong guard and my pack members are all lycans. The rest of our Sombra residents are a mix of human and enhanced. Unlike the Syndicate and Earth governments, we encourage mixed relationships between humans and those altered by nuclear fallout, shifters, metas, and enhanced beings, which keeps things spicier, more interesting, and more fokkin ’ passionate about things. Trust me, it’s wild.’

She jolted, her eyes dilating, her heart rate rising at his insinuation.

He smirked and dragged his eyes away from her heated face.

To her relief, the food arrived.

Savvine’s mouth watered at the sight of paella served in a smoking pan, red with spice and thick with prawns, saffron rice, calamari curls, and mussels pried open like black flowers.

The rice dish was accompanied by platters of grilled meat sticky with glaze, and sides of yucca fries, smoky paprika corn, and sauce bowls with high heat levels.

Savvine eyed the ribs, taking a cautious bite. ‘Maybe not the easiest, most demure meal to eat.’

‘But you do it with such style, mi reina ,’ Xander murmured, smirking.

She soon forgot decorum as they devoured the food.

‘You’re right,’ she admitted at one point. ‘It’s all so delicious.’

They talked over shared plates.

He shared his music loves, from jazz fusion to old Earth flamenco to a pirate-core soft rock genre she didn’t quite believe existed.

He liked crime thrillers, documentaries about galactic wars, and old sports broadcasts from when planets still had leagues. His sense of humor was bone-dry, and his smile never came fast, but when it did, it stayed.

What struck her most wasn’t his words, but the silences.

He didn’t rush to fill them when the conversation lulled.

He leaned back in his chair, his gaze loose, the curl of smoke from his cheroot winding up toward the air vents.

She sipped her cocktail, heart inexplicably steady.

The man sitting across from her wasn’t just lean and lethal.

He was sensual in a quiet, dangerous way, a gravel-voiced, slow-tongued intellectual with a wicked, droll humor.

He was no bad boy trying to pretend.

He was all man, one of steel, humble substance, and gravitas.

Impressive.

The night wrapped the lake in moonlit hush as crickets chirped in the grass, and waves rippled on the shore.

Xander strolled alongside Savvine to the guest cabin, their steps easy and relaxed, slowing as if neither wanted to end the night.

The stars above them, faux yet dazzling, glimmered over the sky dome.

At the door to her lodge, he paused.

‘ Buenas noches , senorita ’ he murmured.

‘Buona notte, signore .’

His mouth twitched at her husky Italian phrasing as they stood for a beat longer than necessary, almost swaying into each other, but neither reached for more.

With a two-fingered salute, Xander turned and prowled back over the short path to his cabin.

Savvine tore her eyes from his enticing backside and flew up the stairs.

Once inside, she exhaled. ‘Be still, my wild beating heart.’

In the primary, she peeled off her jumpsuit and changed into the black lace sleeping set she had worn the night prior.

She went through the motions, washing her face, brushing her hair, applying a hint of perfume on her neck out of sheer habit.

However, her mind wasn’t in the room, and after some hesitation, she padded to the long curtain near the lake-facing window.

Just like the night before, he was there.

Her heart lurched as her eyes drank in the man sitting on the terrace again.

He’d stripped to the basics. His torso was bare, bronzed skin inked, his abs gleaming. Not fair.

Again, he wore only a pair of black midnight shorts, and the dip of them made her press her thighs together.

His legs stretched in front of him, sinewed and thick, his lean, laid-back and relaxed.

A synth cheroot burned in his left hand.

His gaze wasn’t scanning the lake tonight.

He canted his head, eyes predatory, narrowed.

On her.

Without a word, he lifted his chin in that quiet, magnetic way of his.

Savvine didn’t duck away this time; she let the curtain fall so he saw all of her.

She raised her head and held his eye contact.

The heat that flared between them was silent, steady, molten.

He blew a stream of smoke into the air, revealing the tense, sculpted arch of his nape and the shadowed edge of his collarbone.

It was sensual. Effortless. So sinful, her knees almost buckled.

She bit her lip, then she moved.

She wrapped the blanket he’d given her at the lake around her shoulders.

Stepped into the cool night barefoot, she began the slow walk toward him, her body a riot of heat, nerves, hunger, yearning.

With each step, her pulse thundered louder.

Her blood buzzed. Her heart pounded against her ribs like it knew what she was doing before her mind caught up.

His beauty was a siren call.

Need drowned out every doubt.

His gilded amethyst eyes flamed as she approached.

His lips parted just as his hand grasped his cheroot and dropped to his side. The air between them grew thick, like the night was holding its breath.

When she reached the foot of the steps, he took an inhale.

‘ Est á s segura , mi cielo ?’

His rasp sent an even more impossible scorching through her.

She hesitated, only for a second. His violet gold eyes burned into her.

She nodded. ‘ Naam . I’m sure.’

A low sound rumbled in his chest. ‘Will this get messy in the morning when we need to hard talk?’ he growled.

She climbed onto the top step, her bare feet ghosting over the wood. ‘ Nada . I can separate business and pleasure.’

His mouth curved into a dark, dangerous smirk.