Page 2 of Alien Charming (Alien Wolf Tales #3)

CHAPTER 2

S eren braced himself for the inevitable—the scream that would tear from Elli’s throat, the desperate scramble to escape the monster before her. He tensed, ready to retreat back into the sheltering darkness of the forest where he belonged.

But the scream never came.

Instead, her lips curved upwards in a gentle smile that transformed her entire face. The tightness around her eyes softened, and a warm flush spread across her cheeks.

“I’m happy to finally meet you,” she said, her voice quiet but steady.

He remained frozen, unable to comprehend her reaction. Humans feared the Vultor. They told frightening stories about his kind to their children. They formed hunting parties when Vultor ventured too close to their settlements. Despite the trade negotiations and the two recent matings, most of the villagers regarded them with suspicion and fear. Yet this small, fragile female stood before him without a trace of terror.

“You’re not afraid?” The question rumbled from his chest before he could stop it.

She tilted her head, considering him with those perceptive grey eyes. “Should I be?”

“Most would say yes.” His fingers flexed at his sides, his claws threatening to emerge.

“Most haven’t spent weeks talking with you.” She took a tentative step closer, still within the boundaries of her garden but narrowing the distance between them. “You’ve had plenty of opportunities to harm me if that was your intention.”

Her logic surprised him. Humans rarely applied reason when confronted with his kind.

“The stories about the Vultor—” he began.

“Are undoubtedly exaggerated.” She smiled up at him. “Though I admit, you’re much taller than I imagined. I thought it was only the shadows that made you look so big.”

A startled laugh escaped him. When was the last time he’d laughed? He couldn’t remember.

“Does your aunt know you speak with strangers in the woods?” he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

She gave him an enchantingly mischievous smile. “I didn’t think she needed to know.”

Her reaction stunned him—he’d been so sure she’d be afraid of him once he revealed himself. He’d almost refused her request, but she’d seemed so unhappy that he didn’t have the heart to deny her. Even now, the absence of terror in her scent bewildered him more than anything else.

Her scent. That was what had first drawn him to this place weeks ago.

He’d been patrolling the borders of Vultor territory when the wind shifted, carrying a fragrance so compelling he’d followed it without conscious thought—a sweet, clean essence that reminded him of spring mornings and clear mountain streams. It had pulled at something primal within him, something he’d long suppressed.

But it was watching her that had kept him coming back.

She tilted her head, studying him with those clear grey eyes.

“Are you regretting showing yourself?”

“No,” he said immediately. “I was just remembering the first time I saw you.”

“Before we started talking?”

He nodded, suddenly feeling as awkward as a young pup. “I watched you work with your plants. I watched the way you handled each seedling, each stem, with such care.”

She’d knelt gracefully between the rows of plants, gently loosening roots, murmuring encouragement to the plants as if they could understand. Despite the sadness that so frequently shadowed her features, there was a serenity to her that soothed his beast.

“Your patience struck me,” he continued. “You never showed frustration. You worked methodically, giving attention to each plant.”

A pretty wash of pink tinted her cheeks. “They respond better to gentleness than force. Plants have their own time.”

“As do all living things.” He found himself stepping closer, leaving the shadow of the trees. “I watched you create order from chaos, beauty from nothing. It was… peaceful.”

Her quiet determination had resonated with something long buried within him, and watching her tend her garden had become the brightest part of his days.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so thoroughly disarmed. Standing at the edge of the forest, exposed in the afternoon light, he found himself searching for words—an unfamiliar predicament given his years as alpha.

It wasn’t just her lack of fear that unsettled him. It was the way her mind worked. Over the past few weeks, he’d realized that not only was she astonishingly perceptive, she somehow saw the connections between things—plants and people, problems and solutions—that most people missed.

“You think differently,” he’d told her once, but she’d only shrugged.

“My aunt says I think too much.”

Something protective had stirred in his chest at her casual dismissal, and perhaps that too had led to him revealing himself.

His instincts screamed at him to retreat as he stood exposed in the daylight. What was he doing? Engaging in conversation with a human female as if they were equals, as if there weren’t years of bloodshed between their peoples.

“I should go,” he said abruptly, taking a step backwards. The afternoon sun felt harsh on his skin after so many days observing from the shadows.

Disappointment flickered across her face. “Will you come back tomorrow?”

The hopeful note in her voice threatened to unravel his resolve, and her intoxicating scent clouded his judgment.

“I don’t know if that’s wise,” he answered truthfully, even though he suspected he wouldn’t be able to resist.

“Because I’m human?” she asked, her perceptiveness catching him off guard.

“Because I’m Vultor,” he countered. “And the alpha. I have responsibilities.”

She nodded, accepting his answer, but that quiet understanding only made it worse.

“Thank you for showing yourself,” she said softly. “It means a great deal to me.”

Before he could respond—before he could do something truly foolish like step closer or, worse, reach for her—he turned and strode back into the protective darkness of the forest. Once concealed among the ancient trees, he broke into a run, pushing his body to its limits, trying to outpace the storm of emotions threatening to overwhelm him.

He didn’t slow until he was miles away, deep in Vultor territory. Leaning against a massive trunk, he drew ragged breaths into his lungs.

“Fool,” he growled at himself. “Reckless, selfish fool.”

What madness had possessed him to reveal himself? To indulge this… obsession with a human female? A female barely into adulthood, innocent and sheltered despite her keen mind.

Elli was everything he couldn’t afford to want. Too young. Too gentle. Too human. Her small hands were made for coaxing life from soil, not surviving in his harsh world. Her delicate body would break under the force of a Vultor mate.

And yet, he couldn’t stop thinking about her—the way sunlight caught in her hair, how her eyes lit up when discussing her plants, the careful consideration she gave his words.

“She deserves better than a beast,” he muttered, pushing away from the tree. Better than a leader who carried the weight of his people’s survival. Better than a male who had sacrificed any hope of personal happiness for duty.

He returned to the Vultor enclave just as the sun dipped below the mountain ridge. The settlement sprawled across a series of rocky ledges, half-concealed amongst the trees. Fires flickered to life as twilight descended, casting long shadows across the gathering spaces.

He’d run the entire way back, pushing his body to exhaustion in a futile attempt to clear his mind of Elli’s scent, her smile, her eyes. It hadn’t worked, but there were other matters he needed to deal with.

“The council is waiting,” Nyra said as he approached the central firepit. That talented potter was one of his most trusted advisors, giving him a sympathetic smile when he sighed.

Of course the council was waiting. He’d called this meeting before his… detour to Elli’s garden. He rolled his shoulders, trying to force his thoughts away from soft hands and gentle words.

“Any problems while I was gone?” he asked, falling into step beside her.

“Just the usual complaints about the human trade proposal.” Her lips thinned. “Treban is particularly vocal today.”

He suppressed a growl. Treban belonged to the same line as the previous alpha and never missed an opportunity to challenge his leadership. The younger male made no secret of his disdain for Seren’s more moderate approach to human relations. He’d hoped that including him in the discussions would ease his antagonism but it had only given him an additional stage for his grievances.

Five council members waited in the stone chamber carved into the mountainside. Treban paced near the far wall, his powerful frame tense with barely contained aggression. The others—Mira, Elek, Varro, and old Lena—sat on carved wooden benches arranged in a semicircle.

“You honor us with your presence, Alpha,” Treban said, the formal greeting laced with sarcasm. “We thought perhaps you’d been detained in the human village.”

He met the younger male’s challenging gaze without flinching. “I was patrolling our borders, as is my duty.”

“Interesting how your patrols so often take you to the edge of the human settlement,” Treban sneered.

“Enough,” Lena intervened, her gravelly voice cutting through the tension. “We’re here to discuss the trade alliance, not question our alpha’s movements.”

“I believe we are getting closer to an agreement,” he confirmed. “They are willing to trade grain, produce, and textiles.”

“Finnar’s mate creates cloth,” Mira pointed out, but he shook his head.

“Scarlett cannot weave enough cloth for the whole pack.”

“Furs were good enough for our ancestors,” Treban snapped, and he sighed.

“They also lived in caves and ate raw meat. Is that what you’re proposing?”

Treban scowled but didn’t respond, and Varro stepped into the silence.

“What do they want in return?”

“Protection from raiders. Help with hunting. Some of the plants that grow deep in the mountains.”

Treban scoffed. “So we become their guard dogs? Their hunting hounds?”

“We become allies,” he corrected firmly. “We would no longer have to travel to Port Cantor to trade, and we would provide items that they lack. It would be beneficial to both sides.”

Of course that was not the end of the matter. But as the discussion continued around him, he found his thoughts straying back to Elli, to the gentle way she touched her plants, to the quiet determination he sensed within her. She had a strength his people would respect, if they could look past the fact that she was human. A strength she would need to withstand the fierce storms of his world.

No, he reminded himself sharply. Those thoughts were dangerous. They had no place in his world or his future.