Page 13 of Alien Charming (Alien Wolf Tales #3)
CHAPTER 13
O nce again Elli knelt in front of her window, this time watching the parade of villagers making their way towards the forest path. Not all of them by any means, but more than she’d expected, drawn by curiosity as much as good wishes. The women wore their best dresses, flowers woven into their hair. Even old Mr. Finley had managed to leave his chair by the fire to attend the ceremony.
Her breath fogged the glass, and she wiped it away with her sleeve, unwilling to miss a moment. Somewhere in those woods, Seren was waiting. Even though he wasn’t waiting for her, the thought of him standing tall amongst his people made her heart flutter traitorously in her chest.
At least she’d managed to slip away earlier that day to create a crown of flowers for Tessa to wear, hoping her friend would understand why she couldn’t be there in person. The crown had included some of her special hybrids, and she wondered if Seren would recognize them. Would he understand her absence as well?
“Elli! Where are you, girl? These floors won’t scrub themselves!”
Aunt Margaret’s voice cut through her daydream, and she moved back from the window, letting the curtain fall back into place. On her bed lay the list her aunt had left—a spiteful collection of tasks designed to keep her occupied until long after the ceremony ended.
Clean the pantry shelves.
Polish the silver.
Scrub the kitchen floor.
Inspect the linens.
The list went on, each item more tedious than the last. She picked it up, the paper trembling slightly in her fingers. Outside, laughter drifted up from the path as the last stragglers hurried to catch up with the main group.
“I’m coming, Aunt Margaret.” She folded the paper and tucked it into her apron pocket.
In the kitchen, her aunt stood by the door, adjusting her hat—a ridiculous confection of ribbons and artificial flowers. “I expect everything on that list to be completed by the time I return. No daydreaming, no wandering off.”
“Yes, Aunt.”
“And stay away from the windows. I won’t have the neighbors thinking I’m raising some kind of peeping tom.”
She lowered her eyes. “Yes, Aunt.”
The door closed with a final click, and her aunt’s footsteps faded down the path. She pulled out the list again, then crumpled it in a sudden fit of rebellion. But what was the point? Ignoring her aunt’s commands wouldn’t change her situation. And perhaps if she worked hard enough, she could stop thinking about Seren.
She retrieved the bucket and scrub brush from beneath the sink, filling it with water that was too hot for comfort. The soap stung the small cuts on her hands—evidence of yesterday’s battle with the rose bushes—as she knelt on the hard floor and began to scrub. Unfortunately, the task wasn’t demanding enough to keep her thoughts from drifting to the ceremony. To Seren. To what it might feel like to stand beside someone who looked at you like you mattered.
Her knees ached as she worked the brush across the kitchen floor. Half an hour had passed, and she’d barely covered a quarter of the space. At this rate she wouldn’t finish until after midnight—after the ceremony ended, just as her aunt had planned.
A sudden knock at the door made her jump, and she sat back on her heels, pushing a stray lock of hair from her face with the back of her wrist. Who could that be? Most of the village should be at the ceremony by now.
The knock came again, more insistent this time.
She dropped the brush into the bucket and stood, wincing as her knees protested, then wiped her hands on her apron and hurried to the door.
“Who is it?” she called, hesitating with her hand on the latch.
“It’s Agatha, dear. Open up before my old bones turn to dust out here.”
She pulled open the door to find Scarlett’s grandmother standing on the doorstep, looking remarkably spry for someone who’d just claimed impending dustification.
“Mrs. Ashworth—I mean, Agatha. Shouldn’t you be at the ceremony?”
The old woman peered past her into the house and shook her head.
“And shouldn’t you? Yet here we both are.” Her sharp eyes took in Elli’s wet apron and reddened hands. “Though it seems one of us is having a significantly worse evening than the other.”
She winced, looking down at her sodden clothes. “Aunt Margaret left me a list of chores.”
“Did she now?” Agatha stepped inside without waiting for an invitation. “Well, that won’t do at all. The bonding ceremony is an important cultural exchange. Educational, even. What kind of aunt would deny her niece such an opportunity?”
“The kind who thinks I’ll embarrass her,” she said quietly.
Agatha made a dismissive sound in the back of her throat. “Nonsense. Now, where’s this list of hers?”
She pulled the crumpled paper from her pocket and handed it over. Agatha scanned it, her expression growing stormier with each item.
“Ridiculous,” she muttered. “I’ll handle these tasks. You are going to the bonding ceremony.”
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly?—”
“You can and you will.” Agatha’s tone brooked no argument. “I’ve cleaned more houses than your aunt has had hot dinners.”
She stared at the old woman in disbelief. “But Aunt Margaret will know I’m there. She’ll be furious.”
Agatha’s eyes twinkled. “Margaret Jacobson has been furious since the day she was born, but I think you might be able to avoid her wrath this time. Come with me.”
Before she could make any further protests, Agatha took her firmly by the elbow and guided her upstairs. The old woman moved with surprising speed for someone her age, heading straight for Elli’s bedroom as if she’d been there a hundred times before.
“Sit,” Agatha commanded, pointing to the small stool in front of Elli’s modest dressing table.
She obeyed, watching in the mirror as Agatha opened a large bag she hadn’t noticed her carrying. From its depths she pulled out a bundle wrapped in tissue paper.
“I had a feeling Margaret might try something like this,” Agatha said, carefully unwrapping the package. “Fortunately, I came prepared.”
The tissue paper fell away to reveal a dress unlike anything Elli had ever seen. The fabric shimmered between deep blue and forest green depending on how the light caught it, with delicate silver embroidery along the neckline and sleeves.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, reaching out to touch it with reverent fingers.
“It was mine, many years ago.” Agatha’s eyes softened with memory. “For a very special occasion.”
The old woman placed the dress on the bed and returned to her bag, pulling out a pair of dark green slippers with matching silver embroidery and a small glass vial filled with amber liquid.
“What’s that?”
“A little trick I learned from the Vultor themselves.” Agatha uncorked it, releasing a scent like wildflowers and rain. “It will mask your natural scent for a few hours. No one will be able to pick you out of the crowd by smell alone.”
Her eyes widened. “The Vultor can do that?”
“They can do many things.” Agatha winked at her. “Now drink this and let’s get you ready.”
The liquid tasted of honey and herbs, warming her from the inside out as Agatha rubbed a healing salve onto her reddened hands. After she changed into the dress, Agatha busied herself with her hair, pulling it back from her face with two small sparkling combs, but letting it fall down over her shoulders in soft waves.
When she finally stood before the small mirror, she hardly recognized herself. The dress fit as if it had been made for her, accentuating her slender curves. Her hair framed her face in a way that made her eyes look larger, more luminous.
“I look so different.”
“No, dear,” Agatha said gently. “Now you look like yourself.”
She could only stare at her reflection, not sure what to say.
Agatha took her by the shoulders, meeting her eyes in the mirror. “Life is full of choices, Elli. Your aunt has chosen fear and bitterness. I want more for you. I want you to choose happiness.”
Her throat tightened with emotion, and she turned to face the old woman, her voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you. For everything.”
“None of that now,” Agatha said, but her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. “Now, come on. The ceremony is starting, and I won’t have you miss it. I’ll escort you.”
“But—”
Agatha held up one finger. “Ah. I’m afraid I must insist. For educational purposes, of course. You said you wanted to learn more about Vultor culture.”
She laughed, a strange sense of lightness filling her chest. “Of course, Agatha. For educational purposes only.”
“That’s the spirit.” Agatha patted her cheek affectionately, then turned towards the door. “We’ve got a little walk ahead of us. Are you sure those slippers will be comfortable?”
She looked down at her feet, clad in the delicate shoes that had once belonged to Agatha. “They fit perfectly.”
“Good. Let’s get moving then.” Agatha offered her arm in a surprisingly courtly gesture and she slipped her hand through it. Together, they made their way down the stairs and out into the twilight.
The sun hadn’t set but it was already growing dark under the trees and small lanterns hung from low branches, casting a golden glow over the path. Agatha kept her arm linked with hers, but set a slower pace than Elli expected.
“I’m not quite as spry as I was the last time I walked this path, but we’ll get there in the end.”
“The last time?” she echoed. “You mean you’ve been to a bonding ceremony before?”
“Not exactly. But I’m no stranger to Vultor territory. Even though it didn’t work out between us, Arden always made sure I was welcome.” Her eyes took on a distant expression, lost in memories. “My husband knew, of course, but I never mentioned it to anyone else. The relationship between humans and the Vultor was much more strained in those days.”
She couldn’t imagine keeping such a secret. “You never told anyone else?”
“No, and over the years I spent less and less time there.” Agatha shook off the past and smiled at her. “But I was still there often enough to know that Seren is a worthy male.”
She blushed. “I know he is, but he’s the leader of the Vultor. I’m just…”
Unable to think of the right way to describe herself, she waved her hand helplessly.
“Stop that,” Agatha said firmly. “You are a strong, brave young woman. You’ve survived your aunt’s abuse for years, and you haven’t let it poison you. You’re stronger and more resilient than she could ever imagine. Don’t sell yourself short.”
She looked away, unable to face the intensity of Agatha’s gaze.
“If you’re so sure that Seren is a worthy male, then perhaps you should trust his opinion of you,” the old woman added softly.
They fell silent as the sounds of music and laughter reached their ears. The air held the scents of wood smoke and roasting meat, underlaid with the sweetness of wildflowers. Through the trees, she saw flickers of golden light and the movement of people, and suddenly came to an abrupt halt, seized by a fit of panic.
“I can’t do this. Aunt Margaret will send me home in disgrace as soon as she sees me.”
“She won’t recognize you,” Agatha promised, dipping into her bag once more and pulling out a shimmering veil. “This should help with that.”
“It’s beautiful,” she breathed, touching the fabric with wondering fingers.
The material was impossibly light in her hands, like holding woven moonlight. Agatha used the combs to secure it to her hair, then draped one of the folds across the lower part of her face before stepping back to admire the effect.
“There,” Agatha said triumphantly. “That should do the trick.”
“But it doesn’t really conceal anything.” Despite her protest, something about the delicate veil gave her confidence.
“Not if you’re truly looking,” Agatha agreed. “But Margaret rarely looks beyond her own nose.” She took Elli’s hands in her own weathered ones. “Your mother would have wanted you to live, not just exist. Margaret has kept you in that house like a bird in a cage, but cages only work if you believe in their walls.”
Her eyes stung with sudden tears. “What if he doesn’t want me there?”
Agatha’s smile turned knowing. “Trust me. He wants you.” She gently pointed Elli towards the ceremony. “Go. Find out what happens when you choose your own path.”
With a final squeeze of her hands, Agatha stepped back. She took a deep breath and started walking, the shimmering veil catching the last rays of the sun as she walked towards the music, towards Seren, towards her future.