Page 11 of Alien Charming (Alien Wolf Tales #3)

CHAPTER 11

E lli slipped back into the house, her fingers pressed to her lips, still feeling the warmth of Seren’s kiss. She tiptoed up the stairs, careful to avoid the third step that always creaked, and made it safely to her room.

Once the door closed behind her, she leaned against it and closed her eyes, replaying every moment. The gentle pressure of his arms around her, the surprising softness of his lips, the rumble in his chest when she’d responded to him. Her heart fluttered at the memory.

She changed into her nightgown and climbed into bed, pulling the quilt up to her chin. The smile wouldn’t leave her face, even as she stared up at the darkened ceiling.

But then doubt crept in, cold and insidious.

How eagerly she had pressed herself against him. How readily her lips had parted. How she had clutched at his shoulders, wanting to draw him closer still.

Aunt Margaret’s voice echoed in her mind: “Just like your mother, no sense of propriety.” The accusations that her mother was loose and wanton had been part of her upbringing for as long as she could remember.

She turned onto her side, curling into herself. What must Seren think of her? A proper lady would have pulled away, would have shown some restraint. Instead, she had melted into him like snow in spring sunshine.

Was that why he’d sent her away? Had her eagerness disgusted him? He was, after all, a leader among his people. Someone important. Someone dignified. And she had thrown herself at him like some desperate, touch-starved creature.

“Oh, God,” she whispered into the darkness, mortification burning through her. Had she ruined everything?

She pulled the pillow over her head, as if she could smother the memory of her behavior. What if her aunt was right? What if she truly was like her mother—weak and wanton and destined to bring shame to herself?

The happiness of moments before curdled into something sour and heavy in her chest. She squeezed her eyes shut, but sleep remained elusive, her mind tormenting her with the possibility that she had driven away the one person who had looked at her and truly seen her.

She finally drifted into sleep, her troubled thoughts giving way to the heavy pull of exhaustion. In her dreams, the familiar darkness of her bedroom faded, replaced by dappled sunlight filtering through leaves. She found herself in a clearing she didn’t recognize, wildflowers dotting the grass beneath her bare feet.

The warmth of the sun caressed her skin, and she realized she wore only a thin white shift that fluttered around her calves in the gentle breeze. Her hair hung loose down her back, freed from its usual severe knot.

“Elli.”

The deep voice sent a shiver down her spine. She turned to find Seren stepping from the shadows of the forest. In the dream, she felt no shame, no doubt—only a delicious anticipation that pooled in her belly.

He moved towards her with the fluid grace of a predator, but she felt no fear. His golden eyes gleamed with a hunger that matched the ache building within her. When he reached her, he cupped her cheek with impossible gentleness.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he murmured, his thumb tracing the curve of her lower lip, and she leaned into his touch.

“I’m here now.”

He lowered his head, and she didn’t hesitate to meet him. His arms encircled her, drawing her against the solid wall of his chest. She melted into him, her hands sliding up to tangle in his hair, loosening it from its tie.

The kiss deepened, and she sighed against his mouth as his hands roamed her back, leaving trails of heat wherever they touched. He lifted her effortlessly, as if she weighed nothing, and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

“Mine,” he growled against her throat, his fangs grazing the sensitive skin there without breaking it. The possessive word sent a thrill through her that had nothing to do with fear.

“Yours,” she agreed, her voice breathy and unfamiliar to her own ears.

He lowered them both to a bed of soft grass, his body a welcome weight above hers. In the dream, everything felt right, perfect—as if this were exactly where she was meant to be.

She woke with a gasp, her nightgown clinging to her damp skin and an unfamiliar ache between her thighs. The remnants of the dream lingered, leaving her breathless and confused. Sunlight streamed through her window, and she realized she’d overslept. Aunt Margaret would be furious.

She scrambled out of bed, her heart still racing from the images that had filled her sleep. Her cheeks burned as she recalled the dream—Seren’s hands on her body, his lips against her throat, the way she had responded so eagerly. The memory of his actual kisses tangled with the dream, making it difficult to separate reality from fantasy. Except… they had gone much further in her dream.

Despite her aunt’s best efforts she was familiar with the basic mechanics of sex, or at least human sex. Was Vultor sex that different? Both Tessa and Scarlett seemed happy enough.

Oh, God. What am I thinking?

She blushed at the direction of her thoughts and hurried through her morning routine, trying to force her thoughts to more practical matters. Like the fact that she hadn’t finished all her chores last night, and Aunt Margaret would no doubt have a list of new ones for her to complete today.

But as she dressed and brushed her hair, her mind kept wandering back to the clearing, to the feeling of his body pressed against hers, and to the word that had sent such a shock of longing through her.

Mine.

She shook her head, trying to clear the fog of desire that clung to her. It had been a dream, nothing more. A wayward fantasy that held no bearing on reality.

“Elli!” Her aunt’s sharp voice cut through her thoughts. “Are you still abed? The morning is half-gone!”

“Coming, Aunt Margaret!”

She hastily splashed water on her face, trying to cool her flushed skin, then twisted her hair into its usual tight knot, wincing as she secured it with pins. The girl in her dream had worn her hair loose and wild, and had been confident in a way she couldn’t imagine.

“Ellianna!”

Her aunt’s voice held a warning note, and she hurried downstairs, trying to force thoughts of Seren and the dream to the back of her mind. She would have time to think about it later, when she was alone in the garden. Perhaps he would come to her again, and she could understand what had happened between them.

For now, she had chores to complete and an aunt to appease. But as she moved through her morning tasks, she couldn’t help but touch her lips occasionally, remembering the pressure of his mouth against hers—the one part of the night she knew had been wonderfully, terrifyingly real.

As she went about her errands, she hardly noticed the length of her list or the weight of her basket. Mrs. Hobson’s sour expression barely registered as she purchased flour and sugar. The shopkeeper’s clipped tone and the way she counted out her change with exaggerated care—as if suspecting her of being too dim to notice shortchanging—simply rolled off her like water from oiled cloth.

“Thank you,” she said, giving Mrs. Hobson an absentminded smile, and saw the woman shake her head as she left.

She continued to the butcher’s shop, where as usual Mr. Collins served her last. Normally it would have stung, but today she simply waited patiently, her mind drifting to the memory of golden eyes intent on her face.

“What’ll it be?” Mr. Collins finally asked, not bothering to look up from his cutting board.

“Two pounds of stewing beef, please.” Her voice came out steadier than usual.

As she waited, she caught sight of her reflection in the shop window. The same severe hairstyle, the same plain dress, the same girl the village had always ignored or pitied. Yet Seren had looked at her as if she were something precious. He’d spoken to her as if her thoughts mattered. He’d kissed her as if he couldn’t help himself.

Mr. Collins slapped the wrapped package on the counter. “Four silver.”

She counted out the coins, remembering how Seren had bristled at her aunt’s dismissive comments. How he’d sought her out after the dinner. How his big hands had been so gentle when they cradled her face.

“You need something else?” Mr. Collins asked impatiently.

“No thank you.” She placed the meat in her basket and turned to leave.

Outside, she paused to check her list. The usual whispers followed her, but for once they didn’t pierce her heart. Let them think what they would. Someone had seen past all that. Someone had looked at her and found her worthy of attention, of conversation—of a kiss that still made her cheeks warm at the memory.

“Elli!”

The friendly voice interrupted her thoughts, and she turned to see Bella hurrying towards her, her face flushed with excitement.

“Have you heard the news?” Bella skidded to a stop, practically bouncing on her toes.

“What news?”

“Tessa is having a bonding ceremony with her Vultor mate. Apparently it’s their version of a wedding, and the whole village is invited!” Bella’s eyes were wide with excitement. “Can you believe it?”

“The whole village?”

“That’s what I heard. Not that everyone will go of course, but my father thinks it’s a great idea. He says weddings are much more interesting than timber rights and hunting territories.”

“He’s probably right,” she said absently. “When is the ceremony?”

“This weekend! It’s going to be at the clearing by the north woods. I’m even going to wear a dress.” Bella laughed. “The yellow one with the lace collar. What will you wear?”

“I… I’m not sure I’ll be going,” she said hesitantly.

“Why on earth not? The Vultor are handling most of the arrangements, but I’m sure someone mentioned your aunt participating as well.”

“That doesn’t mean she’ll want me to attend,” she said quietly, and Bella’s face softened.

“I’m sure she will. It’s practically a diplomatic event.”

Was Bella right? She bit her lip, thinking of Seren. He was sure to be there, and the thought of seeing him again, especially after that kiss, sent a flutter through her stomach.

She bid farewell to Bella and hurried home, her hopes rising that she’d be attending the celebration. If nothing else, her aunt would probably want to bring her along to assist her in whatever tasks needed completing. She allowed herself to dream about it, and by the time she reached the house, her cheeks were flushed from more than just the brisk walk.

Aunt Margaret was in the parlor, sorting through correspondence at her writing desk.

“You’re late,” her aunt said without looking up.

“I’m sorry, Aunt Margaret, but there was exciting news in the village. Tessa is having a bonding ceremony with her Vultor mate. The whole village has been invited.”

Her aunt’s pen paused mid-stroke. “Indeed.”

“It’s this weekend, in the clearing by the north woods,” she added, trying to sound casual. “Bella says it’s practically a diplomatic event now.”

“I’m aware of the situation,” her aunt said sharply. “I received the invitation this morning and agreed to participate.”

“Then we’ll be attending?”

“ I will be attending in my position as the mayor.” Her aunt finally looked up, her gaze assessing. “You will remain here.”

Her hopes withered as quickly as they had grown. “But… the whole village was invited.”

“You have duties here, Ellianna. The garden needs tending, and I’ll need fresh linens prepared for my return.”

Her aunt returned to her correspondence, clearly dismissing her, but she couldn’t bring herself to let it drop.

“I could finish my chores early. The ceremony isn’t until?—”

“The subject is not open for discussion.” Her aunt’s tone hardened. “Your presence would only cause unnecessary attention. What would people think, seeing you moon over those creatures like some lovesick child?”

She flinched. Had her interest in the Vultor been so obvious? Did her aunt somehow know about Seren?

“I just thought?—”

“That’s quite enough, Elli. I’ve made my decision.” Her aunt stood, gathering her papers. “Now, I need you to press my blue silk gown for the occasion. See that you do it properly this time.”

Her aunt swept from the room before she could reply, leaving her alone with her disappointment.