Page 46
Story: Alien Huntsman
He remembered how Tessa had looked at him after seeing his beast form, without a trace of fear. “She does.”
Seren nodded slowly. “Then bring her to meet the pack. We’ll welcome her.”
Relief flooded him. He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed Seren’s approval until he had it.
“Thank you,” he said simply.
“Don’t thank me yet,” Seren warned. “Not everyone will be as accepting. There will be challenges.”
“I can handle them.”
“I believe you can.” Seren’s expression grew serious. “But don’t take too long to bring her. The unclaimed males grow restless in spring.”
He hesitated, shifting his weight. “There’s something else. I encountered a beast Vultor near the cabin a few days ago. He came too close to Tessa.”
Seren’s expression darkened immediately. “You fought him?”
“Yes.” His claws extended involuntarily at the memory. “He was massive. Scarred. I would have killed him, but Tessa stopped me. He growled ‘no harm’ before disappearing.”
Seren turned away, his shoulders tense. “You met Malrik.”
“You know him?”
“I knew him.” Seren’s voice was heavy with regret. “He was the descendant of a noble house back on our original planet. Always arrogant, believed himself above our customs, our ways.” He shook his head. “Thought he could defy nature itself.”
“The curse of the unmated?”
“Yes. He didn’t believe he would succumb to it.” Seren ran a hand through his hair. “Malrik believed himself stronger than the beast within. By the time he realized his mistake, it was too late. The transformation had begun.”
“Could nothing be done?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.
“I tried reaching out to him. We all did.” Seren’s eyes reflected old pain. “But he rejected our help, disappeared into the mountains. By the time we found him again, his mind was nearly gone. Now he roams, more beast than Vultor.”
Korrin thought of the creature’s eyes—still holding a flicker of intelligence despite the bestial form. “He seemed to understand Tessa meant something to me. He backed down.”
“Then perhaps there’s still something of Malrik left in there.” Seren looked thoughtful. “That he approached your female at allis concerning, though. The beasts are usually solitary, avoiding contact with others.”
A chill ran down his spine. “I should get back to her.”
Korrin loped through the forest, his spirits higher than they’d been in years. Seren’s approval had been unexpected but welcome. The alpha had even seemed pleased by the news, though there had been something wistful in his eyes that made him wonder if Seren himself harbored feelings for a human female.
The thought of Tessa waiting for him quickened his pace. His beast prowled restlessly beneath his skin, eager to return to her. He would ask her tonight, explain what it meant to be marked as his mate. The idea of her wearing his mark sent a thrill of possessive pleasure through him.
He was halfway back to the cabin when a dark shape exploded from the trees. Malrik. The beast Vultor’s eyes blazed with frantic urgency as he skidded to a halt before Korrin.
“Female,” Malrik growled, the word guttural and rough, as though he hadn’t spoken in years. “Danger.”
Ice flooded his veins. “Tessa?”
Malrik’s massive head jerked in what might have been a nod. “Male. Human.”
He didn’t wait for more. He shifted in mid-stride, clothes tearing as his body contorted and expanded. Pain lanced through him, but he welcomed it, channeled it into rage. His beast erupted, fur rippling over muscle, claws extending as he dropped to all fours.
He tore through the forest, Malrik keeping pace beside him. Trees blurred past as they raced toward the cabin. Korrin’sheart hammered against his ribs. Tessa. His Tessa. If anything happened to her?—
The scent hit him first. Wrong. Something chemical and sweet beneath the familiar scent of honey. Then Edgar’s stink, a mixture of sweat and cologne that made his nose burn. And beneath it all, the terrifying absence of Tessa’s usual vibrant scent.
A roar built in his chest, exploding from him as they burst into the clearing. The cabin door stood open. The pups were growling, circling around something on the porch.
Table of Contents
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