"Wait, I remember from the press reports that a purple alpha shielded Blue Lowen from the blast wave. Was that you?"
Storm gives a slightly shy smile.
"Yes. When Blue was scheduled to be here, our CEO asked me to act as extra protection. There were concerns about his safety."
"You shielded him from a bomb that destroyed an entire floor, and you walked away without any injuries?"
"Oh, I had injuries, plenty of them!" He laughs, seeing my confused face.
Damien chuckles too. "Hey, remember, we’re True Mates. Any injuries heal within a day."
I gape, staring at him for a moment. Right.
The famous Joining!
Like everyone, I had heard about the magic that binds True Mates, the one that heals, and rejuvenates, but I had never quitebelievedit, not really.
My parents were True Mates. But when Anzo shot my dad in the head, they both just died. There was no healing, no way to stop the death.
Still, maybe with less serious wounds? Would that work?
Healing… it sounds so magical.
My thoughts immediately jump to my back. If I had my fated mate, would my scars disappear?
I have always hated the marks of violence on my body. They remind me of my failure of a life, humiliation, captivity. I do not only hate the ones Anzo left behind, but also those tied to martial arts.
Since childhood, I’ve trained in jujitsu, wrestling, Muay Thai, and Kendo, the Japanese sword-fighting art.
The latter left me with a lot of thin scars on my hands and forearms. And wrestling gave me that typical ‘cauliflower’ ear shape. I pressured Anzo to bring in the best surgeons to repair the damaged cartilage. My ears look more or less normal now, though not perfectly so, which still pisses me off.
Without thinking, I raise a hand to my ear. With my curls no longer hiding them, I suddenly feel self-conscious.
I wantnothingthat reminds me of my past in cage fighting. I want to forget it and start over.
Erase, wipe it out…
A clean slate.
This thing with Salt, could it do that, maybe heal me?
But is it slipping from my grasp now?
An incoming call appears on Storm’s screen, and he accepts it quickly.
Jordan’s face looks slightly more positive than before, though only just. His permanent dissatisfaction clearly runs deep.
"Well, I have some good news for you," he says. "The contracts we have in place are heavily protected by regulations that shield our company from liability. We are not obligated to share any information with Beta Activation that has not been confirmed by officially recognized tests. In this case, the True Mate status of our clients cannot be easily verified, so no one can accuse us of acting in bad faith. That is the first piece of good news."
"And the second piece of good news?"
Jordan’s face slips back into its sour expression. "That one is more of a sensitive suggestion. You could use your family connections to smooth the acceptance of our clients into the BA program."
His gaze shifts meaningfully toward Damien, whose cheeks suddenly flush red.
Damien looks at Storm and says, "You know, that’s actually a good idea. I could call my uncle. The program is his brainchild, basically. He has enormous influence over it."
I have no idea what they are talking about, but I choose not to ask. I only care about the final outcome, so any help is welcome.
