Page 17 of Alien Charming (Alien Wolf Tales #3)

CHAPTER 17

E lli stumbled blindly through the woods, tears streaming down her cheeks. How had everything gone so wrong so quickly? One minute she’d been watching Seren stride away, admiring the way the crowd parted before his powerful presence and remembering the way he’d touched her.

Then a chill ran down her spine and she looked up to see Aunt Margaret, her narrowed eyes fixed directly on her. Despite Agatha’s potion and the obscuring veil, she was sure her aunt recognized her. Margaret’s mouth pinched into that familiar tight line of disapproval, the one that always preceded punishment.

Her heart started to pound and she edged backwards, bumping into a young Vultor who smiled politely before moving away. Her aunt began cutting through the crowd with determined steps, her eyes never leaving Elli. There was nowhere to hide in the open clearing. Panic rose in her throat as her aunt drew closer, pushing past a group of villagers with a muttered excuse.

She glanced towards Seren, but he was still occupied with the young Vultor males. She couldn’t involve him—this was her problem to solve. With one last longing look at his broad back, she slipped between two laughing couples and darted towards the edge of the clearing.

The magical night shattered around her. The dress that had made her feel beautiful now felt like a beacon announcing her presence. Looking back over her shoulder, she saw her aunt still searching, face twisted with suspicion. Her only chance was to reach home before her aunt and remove all evidence of her deception.

She slipped between the trees, her heart hammering against her ribs. The beautiful dress caught on brambles as she hurried along the forest path, tearing tiny holes in the fabric. She’d have to apologize to Agatha—assuming she could even face the woman again after fleeing like a coward.

Twenty paces into the forest, one of her beautiful borrowed slippers caught on a root, nearly sending her sprawling. As she steadied herself against a tree trunk, a sharp voice cut through the darkness.

“Stop right there.”

She froze as her aunt stalked towards her, her hands on her hips. In the moonlight, her aunt’s face looked harder than ever, shadows deepening the lines around her mouth.

“I knew it was you,” her aunt hissed. “Did you think I wouldn’t recognize my own niece, even with your little costume?”

“Aunt Margaret, I?—”

“Silence! I saw you with that… creature. Dancing. Touching. Coming out of the woods together.”

Her cheeks burned. “We only talked.”

“Don’t lie to me.” Her aunt stepped closer, her perfume heavy in the night air. “Just like your mother, aren’t you? Desperately throwing yourself at the first male who shows any interest in you.”

The words stung worse than any slap. “My mother wasn’t?—”

“Your mother was weak and wanton. She let herself be seduced by a stranger passing through, ruined herself, and came crawling back home with you in her belly.” Her aunt’s voice dripped with disgust. “I took you both in out of family duty, and this is how you repay me? Sneaking out to rut with a beast?”

Tears welled in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “Seren is not a beast.”

“So it’s ‘Seren’ now, is it?” Her aunt gave a humorless laugh. “Well, you’ve made your choice clear. You are no longer welcome in my home.”

She blinked, certain she’d misheard. She’d expected to be punished, not to be thrown out.

“What?”

“You heard me. I won’t have a girl with your… proclivities under my roof. Corrupting the household. Shaming me before the entire village.” A cold sneer crossed her aunt’s face. “Go to your beast if you want him so badly, but don’t expect to come crawling back with some half-breed pup. You’ll find your belongings on the porch by morning.”

Unable to face that harsh gaze any longer, she turned and fled deeper into the forest, tears blurring her vision, but she couldn’t escape her aunt’s cruel words. Each breath came in painful gasps, her chest tight with grief and shame.

She stumbled over an exposed root and pitched forward. She managed to break her fall, but one of her borrowed slippers fell off, disappearing into the underbrush. She paused for a heartbeat, then abandoned it. Nothing mattered now—not the slipper, not the torn dress, not even the dirt smudging her palms.

The reality of her situation crashed over her. Homeless. Cast out. Nowhere to go.

At least her mother had chosen to leave. Or had she? Perhaps she had been desperate—not for a man, but for an escape from Margaret’s cruelty.

The night that had begun with such magic now mocked her with its darkness. She finally came to a halt next to a huge ancient tree and slid down to the forest floor, drawing her knees to her chest.

“What am I going to do?” she whispered to the indifferent forest as her sobs faded away to a few shuddery breaths.

Try to return to Aunt Margaret’s house? Impossible. Even if she begged forgiveness and her aunt took her back, nothing would change what her aunt thought of her. She’d bring it up over and over, setting barbs in her flesh each time. The village offered no refuge either. Who would take in the disgraced niece of Mayor Jacobson? Even if her aunt kept the reason for her banishment to herself, no one would want a strange, simpleminded girl.

Seren… Her heart twisted painfully. He’d said he wanted to claim her, but he hadn’t. Had he already been having doubts? What would he think when he discovered she’d disappeared? Would he believe she’d abandoned him, rejected him?

The forest floor felt cold beneath her, its dampness seeping through the beautiful dress. She had no money, no provisions, no plan. Just the clothes on her back and a lifetime of being told she was worthless.

The tears began to fall again, and the forest absorbed them silently. She hugged her knees until her sobs subsided into hiccups. The night sounds of the forest gradually filtered back into her awareness—the rustle of leaves, the distant hooting of an owl, the faint music and laughter from the ceremony she’d fled.

She wiped her tearstained face with the back of her hand. Sitting here crying wouldn’t solve anything. She needed a plan, somewhere to go, something to do.

The beautiful dress clung damply to her legs, the delicate fabric snagged and soiled. Agatha’s dress. The kind old woman who had helped her, who had made tonight possible, even if it had ended in disaster.

I have to return it, even in its current state , she decided.

Standing on shaky legs, she brushed dirt from the skirt as best she could. She removed the remaining slipper and carried it with her, the forest floor cool and damp beneath her bare feet.

Thank goodness Agatha didn’t live in the village. With any luck she could find her way to her cottage without being spotted. She would return the dress, explain what had happened, and… then what? The thought of imposing further on the old woman’s kindness made her stomach twist with shame, but she had nowhere else to go.

“Perhaps she’d let me borrow a plain dress,” she murmured to herself as she picked her way carefully through the trees. “Something suitable for travel.” Though where she would travel to, she had no idea.

The lights of the village appeared through the trees, and her steps slowed. What if someone saw her? What if word got back to Aunt Margaret? But she couldn’t wander the forest all night in a torn gown.

Taking a deep breath, she skirted the edge of the village, keeping to the shadows, then hurried down the road towards Agatha’s cottage. To her relief, a light was still on inside creating a welcoming glow, but she hesitated at the garden gate, doubt gnawing at her resolve.

What if Agatha wasn’t home? What if she became angry about the ruined dress?

Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the gate and walked silently up the path. She raised a trembling hand to knock on the door, but before her knuckles made contact, the door swung open, revealing Agatha’s familiar face, lined with concern.

“Oh, my dear girl.” Agatha sighed as she took in Elli’s disheveled appearance—the torn dress, the bare feet, the tearstained face. “Come in, come in quickly.”

She hesitated on the threshold. “Your beautiful dress—I’ve ruined it. And I lost one of the slippers.”

Agatha waved away her concerns, gently pulling her inside. “Dresses can be mended, child. You cannot.”

The cottage was warm and smelled of herbs and fresh bread. Despite her distress, her shoulders relaxed slightly as Agatha guided her to a cushioned chair by the fire.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, holding out the remaining slipper. “Aunt Margaret saw me come out of the woods with Seren. She—she’s thrown me out.”

Agatha’s face darkened. “That woman. Let me make you some tea.”

“I shouldn’t impose?—”

“Nonsense. You’re not imposing. I invited you, remember?”

The old woman disappeared into the kitchen, returning a moment later with a teapot and two mugs.

“I don’t know where to go,” she whispered.

“You’re staying here, of course.” Agatha spoke as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “For as long as you need.”

“But Aunt Margaret?—”

“Has no authority in my home. And if she thinks she can spread lies about you, she has another think coming.” Agatha’s eyes sparkled dangerously as she placed a steaming cup of tea in Elli’s hands. The warmth seeped into her cold fingers. “Drink. It will help calm your nerves.”

The tea tasted of chamomile and honey, with something else she couldn’t identify. With each sip, the knot in her chest loosened slightly.

“I ran away,” she admitted finally, her chest aching. “Seren is going to think I abandoned him.”

“No, he won’t,” Agatha said firmly. “But that’s tomorrow’s concern. Tonight, you need rest.”

After she finished her tea, Agatha led her upstairs to a small bedroom. A patchwork quilt covered the bed, and dried flowers hung from the ceiling beams.

“This was Scarlett’s room whenever she visited me, but it’s yours for as long as you need it.”

“It’s lovely. Thank you.”

Agatha helped her out of the ruined dress and gently washed away the dirt covering her feet and hand before giving her a clean, soft nightgown. “Sleep now. Things will seem clearer in the morning.”

She climbed wearily into the bed, sinking into its comforting softness. As Agatha quietly closed the door, her thoughts drifted to Seren—his golden eyes, his gentle touch despite his strength, the way he’d looked at her as if she were precious.

Sleep claimed her quickly, but Seren followed her into her dreams.