Page 11 of Alien Huntsman (Alien Wolf Tales #2)

CHAPTER 11

T essa’s heart hammered against her ribs as she guided Korrin to the chair beside the hearth. Blood matted his hair and streaked across his powerful chest. His amber eyes still glowed with feral intensity, tracking her every movement as she gathered clean rags and water.

“You’re a mess,” she murmured, dipping a cloth into the basin. Her hands trembled slightly as she approached him.

He remained rigid, his muscles coiled tight beneath her touch as she began to clean a deep gash along his forearm. He flinched when she pressed the cloth to a particularly nasty wound.

“Sorry.” She gentled her touch, working methodically to wipe away the blood. “I don’t understand why you attacked him. He didn’t seem threatening.”

“He was too close.” The words came out as a low growl.

She paused, cloth suspended midair. “Too close to what?”

His eyes locked with hers, something primal and possessive burning in their golden depths. “To you.”

The simple declaration stole her breath. She resumed cleaning his wounds to hide the flush creeping up her neck. His skin felt fever-hot beneath her fingertips, and each touch seemed to calm the wildness in him.

“I’ve never seen you shift before.” She traced a particularly long scratch across his shoulder, trying to distract herself from the way his proximity affected her. “It was… beautiful. Terrifying, but beautiful.”

His hand captured hers, stilling her movements. “You weren’t afraid.”

It wasn’t a question, but she answered anyway. “No.”

“Why not?” Genuine confusion wrinkled his brow.

She shrugged, her free hand coming up to brush a strand of dark hair from his face. “Because it’s still you. Beast or man, you wouldn’t hurt me.”

Something vulnerable flashed across his features before he looked away. She continued cleaning his wounds, her touch growing more confident. The pups had settled into their makeshift bed in the corner, no longer distressed now that the danger had passed.

Even though he’d calmed, he still hadn’t returned to his normal state. His claws remained extended, sharp and deadly at the tips of his fingers. The angular planes of his face seemed more pronounced, almost lupine, and his canines still protruded slightly when he spoke. Those amber eyes hadn’t lost their unearthly glow, tracking her movements with predatory focus.

She reached for a fresh cloth, her fingers brushing against his shoulder as she dabbed at a cut near his collarbone. He tensed at first, then gradually relaxed beneath her touch. On impulse, she let her hand linger, stroking down the muscled curve of his arm in a soothing motion.

A rumbling sound vibrated from his chest—not quite a growl, but something deeper, more contented. She smiled to herself and continued the gentle caress, fascinated by how it seemed to calm the beast still lurking beneath his skin.

“Does that help?” she whispered, fingers tracing patterns across his shoulder.

He nodded once, his eyes half-lidded now. The tension in his body ebbed with each stroke of her hand. Emboldened, she ran her palm across his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath her fingertips. His skin was hot to the touch, feverish almost, and surprisingly soft despite the hardness of the muscle beneath.

She found herself enjoying the contact more than she should. The way his breath caught when her fingers traced a particularly sensitive spot. How his skin pebbled with goosebumps in the wake of her touch. There was something intoxicating about having this powerful, dangerous male melting beneath her hands.

With each gentle stroke, his features softened further. The sharp angles of his face became less pronounced, his claws gradually receding. Yet she didn’t stop touching him, even when it was no longer necessary to calm him. She couldn’t bring herself to break the connection between them.

“Better?” she asked, her voice low and husky

His eyes, still glowing but now heavy-lidded, fixed on her face. “Don’t stop.”

Tessa’s heart fluttered as she continued her gentle ministrations, fascinated by how her touch seemed to anchor him, drawing him back from the edge of his beast form. The wounds weren’t as severe as she’d initially feared—already the smaller cuts were closing before her eyes, another reminder of how different he was from her.

“Who was that?” she asked softly, her fingers tracing the line of his shoulder. “The other Vultor.”

He tensed beneath her touch. His jaw tightened, and for a moment she thought he wouldn’t answer.

“I don’t know,” he muttered, turning his face away. “He shouldn’t have been here.”

She frowned, her hand pausing on his arm. “He seemed different.”

A low growl rumbled in his chest, but it lacked the earlier ferocity. She held her ground, continuing to stroke his arm until he sighed, the sound heavy with resignation.

“He’s lost to his beast form,” he finally admitted, his voice rough. “Sometimes, when a Vultor doesn’t find their mate by a certain age, the beast starts to take over. The shift becomes harder to control.”

She gave him a horrified look. “You mean he’s stuck like that?”

“Yes. He can’t shift back at all anymore. The beast has consumed him.” He caught her hand in his, his thumb absently stroking her palm. “He’s been living wild in these mountains for years. Hunting. Surviving. But he’s more animal than Vultor now.”

A chill down her spine. “That’s terrible. Isn’t there anything that can be done for him?”

His expression turned grim. “No. Once the change becomes permanent, there’s no going back.” His eyes met hers, something vulnerable flickering in their depths. “It’s the fate many of us fear most.”

She couldn’t shake the image of the wild Vultor from her mind. Those haunted eyes, the way he’d growled “no harm” before disappearing into the forest. A creature trapped between worlds, neither fully beast nor man.

“Maybe he didn’t mean any harm,” she suggested, her fingers resuming their gentle path along his arm. “He said as much before he left.”

His entire body tensed beneath her touch. The muscles in his jaw clenched, and his amber eyes flashed with something primal. His hand tightened around hers, not painfully, but with enough pressure to convey his disagreement.

“It doesn’t matter what he meant,” he growled. “He was too close to—” He cut himself off, looking away. “My instincts took over.”

Tessa studied his profile, the sharp angles of his face, the way he seemed to be fighting some internal battle. Her curiosity overcame her caution.

“What instincts?” she asked softly, her thumb tracing circles against his palm.

He went still, so still she wondered if he’d even heard her. When he finally turned to face her, his expression was guarded, but his eyes burned with an intensity that made her breath catch.

“Protective instincts,” he said, his voice low and rough. “Territorial instincts.”

The way he looked at her made her heart skip a beat. There was something possessive in his gaze, something that should have frightened her but instead sent a thrill through her body.

“Territorial?” she whispered, suddenly very aware of how close they were sitting, of his hand still holding hers.

His eyes dropped to where their hands were joined, then slowly traveled back up to her face. “Yes.”

“Over the cabin?” she asked, though some part of her already knew that wasn’t what he meant.

His lips quirked up at one corner, a fleeting almost-smile that vanished as quickly as it had appeared. “No, Tessa.” He hesitated, then seemed to make a decision. “Over you.”

Her heart hammered against her ribs as his words hung in the air between them. Over you. The simple phrase carried a weight that should have sent her running. Instead, it anchored her to this moment, to him.

“Tessa.” Her name sounded different on his lips, like a claim and a question wrapped into one. His amber eyes searched hers, looking for something—permission, perhaps, or rejection.

She gave him neither, frozen in the moment, afraid that any movement might shatter whatever was building between them.

He made the decision for her. His hands, warm and firm, gripped her waist and in one fluid motion, he pulled her onto his lap. The sudden closeness stole her breath—his heat surrounded her as his scent filled her lungs.

She should pull away. She should remember who he was, what he’d done—kidnapping her, keeping her here. But the hands that had tied her wrists now held her with such gentle strength, and the eyes that had once looked at her with cold calculation now burned with something far more dangerous.

She didn’t try to pull away. She didn’t want to pull away.

“These instincts,” he murmured, one hand sliding up her back to cradle the nape of her neck. “They’re telling me that you’re mine to protect. Mine to…” His voice trailed off, but his meaning was clear in the way his gaze dropped to her lips.

Time seemed to slow as he leaned forward, giving her every chance to retreat. Instead, she found herself meeting him halfway, drawn by a force as inevitable as gravity.

When his lips finally met hers, the gentleness surprised her. This was not the kiss of a predator claiming prey, but something reverent, almost hesitant. His fingers threaded through her hair, holding her as though she might break or disappear.

Then something shifted. A soft sound escaped her throat, and the careful restraint in his kiss crumbled. His arms tightened around her, pulling her closer as his mouth moved against hers with newfound hunger.

Her world exploded in heat as he devoured her with his kiss. His hands tightened possessively around her waist, but she wasn’t going anywhere. She wanted this. Wanted him. The realization crashed through her like a wave, washing away all her doubts and fears.

His mouth moved against hers with growing urgency, and she responded in kind, her fingers threading through his dark hair, pulling him closer. A low growl rumbled in his chest, vibrating against her body where they pressed together.

She’d never been kissed like this before—like she was air and he was drowning. Like she was the only thing that mattered in his world. Edgar’s unwanted advances had always left her cold and uncomfortable, but Korrin’s touch set her ablaze, igniting something primal and hungry inside her.

His hands roamed her back, tracing the curve of her spine through the thin fabric of her dress. When he pulled back slightly, his amber eyes had darkened to molten gold, pupils dilated with desire.

“Tessa,” he breathed her name against her lips, his voice rough with need. “Tell me to stop.”

She shook her head, her chest heaving. “Don’t stop.”

The words had barely left her mouth before he claimed her again, more demanding this time. One hand cupped her cheek, tilting her head to deepen the kiss while the other splayed across her lower back, pressing her closer to his hard chest.

Her hands explored the broad expanse of his shoulders, feeling the coiled strength beneath her fingertips. He was power and danger wrapped in warm skin, and yet she’d never felt safer than she did in his arms.

When his teeth gently caught her bottom lip, a soft moan escaped her throat. The sound seemed to unleash something in him—his kiss grew fiercer, more possessive, and his arms tightened around her as if he feared she might vanish.