Page 13 of Alien Huntsman (Alien Wolf Tales #2)

CHAPTER 13

T essa woke slowly, enveloped in delicious warmth. The cabin was still dark, dawn barely creeping through the shutters. She blinked, disoriented for a moment before becoming acutely aware of the solid body pressed against her back, the heavy arm draped over her waist, the steady breath against her neck.

Korrin.

Her heart fluttered. She’d never felt so safe, so protected. She shifted carefully to look at him, not wanting to disturb his sleep. His face, usually so guarded and tense, was completely relaxed. The hard lines around his mouth had softened, his brow smooth instead of furrowed. He looked younger, vulnerable even.

A strand of dark hair had fallen across his face. Without thinking, she reached up and gently brushed it away, her fingertips grazing his cheekbone.

His eyes snapped open instantly, his eyes locking on to hers with startling intensity, already beginning to glow gold. For one breathless moment, neither moved. Heat pulsed low in her stomach at the raw hunger on his face, unmistakable and powerful. His gaze dropped to her lips, and she felt herself leaning toward him.

Then something shuttered behind his eyes. In one rapid motion, he pushed himself away from her and out of the bed, his movements abrupt and jerky, as if fighting against himself.

“Korrin?” she asked quietly.

He stood with his back to her, shoulders rigid, hands clenched at his sides. She could see the tension vibrating through him.

“You should get up. Day’s wasting.” His voice was as gravelly, as if he’d been shouting for hours.

She sat up, the blanket pooling around her waist, suddenly cold without his warmth. The pups stirred in their makeshift bed by the hearth, sensing the change in atmosphere.

“Did I do something wrong?” she asked.

He shook his head once, a sharp movement. “No. I did.”

She watched him move around the cabin with mechanical precision, his shoulders stiff and his jaw set in a hard line. He hadn’t looked at her once since leaping from the bed. She fed the pups while he built up the fire, the silence between them thick and uncomfortable.

Bashful nudged against Korrin’s leg, whining softly. Instead of his usual gentle scratch behind the ears, he simply stepped away, pretending not to notice. Bashful whimpered louder, confused by the rejection.

“Even they know something’s wrong,” she said, scooping up the dejected pup.

He grunted, busying himself with arranging kindling that was already perfectly stacked.

“Are we really not going to talk about what happened?” she pressed, her patience wearing thin.

“Nothing happened.” His voice was flat, emotionless.

Tessa felt heat rise to her cheeks. “Nothing? That kiss wasn’t nothing, Korrin.”

His shoulders tensed further, if that was even possible. “It was a mistake.”

“Look at me.” When he didn’t turn, she stepped around him, forcing herself into his line of sight. “Look me in the eyes and tell me it was a mistake.”

His eyes finally met hers, and what she saw there made her breath catch—conflict, desire, and something deeper that he was desperately trying to hide.

“Is this your plan?” she asked quietly. “You’re just going to ignore what’s happening between us?”

“Yes.” The word came out clipped, final.

She shook her head, a small, sad smile touching her lips. “You’re lying to yourself.”

“I’m protecting you.” He moved past her, grabbing his bow from where it leaned against the wall.

“I don’t need protection from you.”

He paused at the door, his hand gripping the frame so tightly his knuckles whitened. For a moment, she thought he might turn back, might finally admit what she already knew—that kiss wasn’t a mistake. It was inevitable.

But he only shook his head and stepped outside, letting the door close behind him with quiet finality.

She busied herself with tidying the cabin. Part of her was hurt by his rejection, but she knew him well enough by now to know that it was driven by his fears, not by a lack of desire. The pups romped around her feet, more relaxed now that Korrin had left.

He hadn’t gone far. Through the window, she spotted him stalking back and forth at the edge of the clearing, bow in hand but seemingly forgotten as he paced. She caught him glancing toward the cabin—toward her—every few moments. His gaze would linger until he caught himself, then he’d jerk his attention away with a visible scowl.

A small, mischievous idea bloomed in her mind. If he was so determined to pretend nothing had happened, why did he keep watching her? Perhaps it was time to test his resolve.

She moved to the open doorway, stretching her arms above her head as if working out a kink in her back. She knew the movement would pull her dress taut across her curves. He froze mid-step, his eyes locking onto her before he wrenched his gaze away with a low growl she could hear even from this distance.

A flutter of excitement rippled through her. This was entirely new territory—she’d never deliberately tried to attract a man’s attention before. With Edgar, she’d done everything possible to discourage him. But with Korrin… the power she felt was intoxicating.

She leaned against the doorframe, twirling a loose strand of hair around her finger. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?” she called

across the clearing.

His shoulders tensed, and he gave a curt nod without looking at her.

“I was thinking of picking some of those berries we saw yesterday.” She stepped out into the sunshine, making a show of stretching again. “Unless you’d rather I stay close to the cabin?”

This time he did look, and the intensity in his gaze sent a shiver down her spine. His eyes had taken on that golden glow, and even from this distance, she could see his claws extend before he clenched his fists, forcing them to retract.

“Do what you want,” he growled, but his voice had dropped an octave lower than usual.

She smiled, letting her fingers trail along the rough wood of the cabin wall as she walked toward him with deliberate slowness. “What I want…” she repeated thoughtfully, watching his claws extend and retract with each step she took.

When she was only a few paces away, she stopped, meeting his eyes. The glow had brightened, and his expression was fierce.

“I want… you,” she whispered.

“Tessa,” he warned, her name a low rumble in his throat.

“Yes?” She kept her voice light, but her pulse was pounding so hard she was sure he could hear it.

His claws slid out, sinking deep into the tree’s bark beside him.

“Go.” He sounded almost like he was in pain.

She stepped closer. His eyes burned with a combination of desire and anger, and she realized that he wasn’t angry at her, not really. He was angry at himself. At the feelings he couldn’t deny.

She took another step forward, bringing her close enough to touch.

“Why are you doing this?” he ground out, his jaw tight.

“You said to do what I want.”

For a moment she thought he was going to give in, but then he turned and stalked off into the woods.

Once again he didn’t go far and he continued to track her every movement throughout the day. He finally returned to the cabin when night fell, the air between them growing thick with unspoken tension. Every time she passed him, his nostrils would flare, catching her scent. His hands would clench, claws appearing then disappearing as he fought for control.

She’d never felt so desired—it was a heady feeling, knowing she affected this powerful, dangerous man so deeply. Yet for all his obvious hunger, he kept his distance—circling her like a predator unwilling to pounce.

When their fingers brushed as she handed him a cup of water, she heard his sharp intake of breath. His eyes flashed gold, pupils narrowing to slits before he turned away.

“I wish you’d stop fighting it,” she murmured, emboldened by the heat in his gaze.

He set the cup down with such force that water sloshed over the rim. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” She stepped closer, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his body. “Don’t notice how you watch me? Don’t feel what’s happening between us?”

His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking at the corner. “It’s not real.”

“It feels real to me.” She reached up, fingers hovering near his face without touching.

His breathing quickened. His eyes burned into hers, desire and restraint warring in this amber depths. The pups sensed the tension, retreating to their makeshift bed in the corner with soft whines.

“Korrin,” she whispered, his name a question and invitation, but he jerked back as if she’d struck him.

“We need more firewood.” He turned abruptly toward the door, his body stiff.

She darted forward, catching his arm before he could escape. His muscles tensed beneath her fingers, but he didn’t pull away.

“Why are you running?” she asked softly, holding his gaze. “What are you so afraid of?”

She held her breath as he turned to face her, his eyes burning with an intensity that made her heart race. She’d never been so bold with anyone before, but something about him made her brave. Made her want to push past his defenses.

“You know what I want,” she said softly, not releasing his arm. “And I think you want it too. So why are you fighting it?”

His muscles tensed beneath her fingers, the heat of his skin almost scorching. For a moment, she thought he might pull away, but instead, he remained frozen in place, like a predator caught between lunging and retreating.

“You don’t understand what you’re asking,” he growled, his voice deeper than she’d ever heard it.

“Then help me understand.”

His gaze dropped to her lips, then back to her eyes. The hunger there made her breath catch. He swallowed hard, his chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths.

“I’m fighting it because…” He paused, seeming to struggle with the words. His jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck straining. “Because I’m afraid that if I stop fighting, I won’t be able to stop at all.”

The raw honesty in his voice sent a shiver down her spine. His words weren’t a warning—they were a confession. One that made her heart race not with fear, but with anticipation.

“Then stop fighting,” she whispered, her voice steadier than she felt. “I’m not afraid of you, Korrin.”

He froze, desperately searching her face. She held his gaze, refusing to look away, wanting him to see the truth in her eyes. This wasn’t impulsive or reckless—she’d never been more certain of anything.

The cabin fell silent except for the crackling of the fire and their mingled breathing. Even the pups seemed to sense the gravity of the moment, watching quietly from their corner.

With excruciating slowness, he lifted his free hand. She held perfectly still as he placed it on her shoulder, his touch feather-light as if he expected her to bolt. His fingers were warm through the thin fabric of her dress, sending tingles across her skin.

When he pulled her toward him, she went willingly, her body moving to meet his without hesitation. The corner of his mouth twitched, almost a smile, as she tilted her face up to his. Her pulse raced wildly, but she smiled back, wanting him to know she was sure.

“Tessa,” he breathed, her name a prayer on his lips.

Then his mouth was on hers, and everything else faded away. This kiss wasn’t like their first—tentative and questioning. This was claiming, consuming. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her flush against his chest as his lips moved against hers with a hunger that matched her own.

She melted into him, her hands sliding up to tangle in his hair. He growled against her mouth, the sound vibrating through her body and igniting a fire in her veins. She’d never felt anything like this—this perfect storm of tenderness and passion that made her feel both protected and desired.

And this time, neither of them pulled away.