Page 18 of Alien Huntsman (Alien Wolf Tales #2)

CHAPTER 18

K orrin stalked through the woods toward the Vultor enclave, his mind racing with everything that had happened in the past few days. Tessa wanted to stay with him. The knowledge still stunned him, filling his chest with an unfamiliar warmth.

He found Seren at the edge of the enclave, examining tracks in the soft earth. The pack leader straightened as he approached, his expression curious.

“I didn’t expect to see you back so soon.” Seren’s eyes narrowed. “The human female?”

“Her name is Tessa,” he said, his voice low but firm. “And I intend to take her as my mate.”

He braced himself for disapproval, arguments about how humans couldn’t be trusted, how they were different. Instead, Seren’s expression softened into something almost wistful.

“You wouldn’t be the first to find himself captivated by a human female.” Seren looked away, his gaze distant. “They have a certain… resilience that can be quite compelling.”

He studied his alpha’s face. There was something in his tone, a hint of personal experience that made him wonder if Seren was referring to someone specific.

“You sound like you speak from experience,” he ventured.

Seren’s lips curved in a half-smile. “Perhaps. But that’s a story for another time.” He clasped Korrin’s shoulder. “Is she worthy of you?”

“I’m not worthy of her,” he admitted. “She’s kind, even to those who don’t deserve it. Strong in ways I never expected.”

“And she accepts what you are? All of it?”

He remembered how Tessa had looked at him after seeing his beast form, without a trace of fear. “She does.”

Seren nodded slowly. “Then bring her to meet the pack. We’ll welcome her.”

Relief flooded him. He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed Seren’s approval until he had it.

“Thank you,” he said simply.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Seren warned. “Not everyone will be as accepting. There will be challenges.”

“I can handle them.”

“I believe you can.” Seren’s expression grew serious. “But don’t take too long to bring her. The unclaimed males grow restless in spring.”

He hesitated, shifting his weight. “There’s something else. I encountered a beast Vultor near the cabin a few days ago. He came too close to Tessa.”

Seren’s expression darkened immediately. “You fought him?”

“Yes.” His claws extended involuntarily at the memory. “He was massive. Scarred. I would have killed him, but Tessa stopped me. He growled ‘no harm’ before disappearing.”

Seren turned away, his shoulders tense. “You met Malrik.”

“You know him?”

“I knew him.” Seren’s voice was heavy with regret. “He was the descendant of a noble house back on our original planet. Always arrogant, believed himself above our customs, our ways.” He shook his head. “Thought he could defy nature itself.”

“The curse of the unmated?”

“Yes. He didn’t believe he would succumb to it.” Seren ran a hand through his hair. “Malrik believed himself stronger than the beast within. By the time he realized his mistake, it was too late. The transformation had begun.”

“Could nothing be done?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.

“I tried reaching out to him. We all did.” Seren’s eyes reflected old pain. “But he rejected our help, disappeared into the mountains. By the time we found him again, his mind was nearly gone. Now he roams, more beast than Vultor.”

Korrin thought of the creature’s eyes—still holding a flicker of intelligence despite the bestial form. “He seemed to understand Tessa meant something to me. He backed down.”

“Then perhaps there’s still something of Malrik left in there.” Seren looked thoughtful. “That he approached your female at all is concerning, though. The beasts are usually solitary, avoiding contact with others.”

A chill ran down his spine. “I should get back to her.”

Korrin loped through the forest, his spirits higher than they’d been in years. Seren’s approval had been unexpected but welcome. The alpha had even seemed pleased by the news, though there had been something wistful in his eyes that made him wonder if Seren himself harbored feelings for a human female.

The thought of Tessa waiting for him quickened his pace. His beast prowled restlessly beneath his skin, eager to return to her. He would ask her tonight, explain what it meant to be marked as his mate. The idea of her wearing his mark sent a thrill of possessive pleasure through him.

He was halfway back to the cabin when a dark shape exploded from the trees. Malrik. The beast Vultor’s eyes blazed with frantic urgency as he skidded to a halt before Korrin.

“Female,” Malrik growled, the word guttural and rough, as though he hadn’t spoken in years. “Danger.”

Ice flooded his veins. “Tessa?”

Malrik’s massive head jerked in what might have been a nod. “Male. Human.”

He didn’t wait for more. He shifted in mid-stride, clothes tearing as his body contorted and expanded. Pain lanced through him, but he welcomed it, channeled it into rage. His beast erupted, fur rippling over muscle, claws extending as he dropped to all fours.

He tore through the forest, Malrik keeping pace beside him. Trees blurred past as they raced toward the cabin. Korrin’s heart hammered against his ribs. Tessa. His Tessa. If anything happened to her?—

The scent hit him first. Wrong. Something chemical and sweet beneath the familiar scent of honey. Then Edgar’s stink, a mixture of sweat and cologne that made his nose burn. And beneath it all, the terrifying absence of Tessa’s usual vibrant scent.

A roar built in his chest, exploding from him as they burst into the clearing. The cabin door stood open. The pups were growling, circling around something on the porch.

Tessa. Limp and unmoving.

The world narrowed to that single point—Tessa’s crumpled form on the porch, the pups forming a protective circle around her.

Time slowed as he bounded forward. She lay so still, her skin alabaster against the dark wood of the porch. His heart seized in his chest. No. Not her. Not when he’d finally found something worth living for.

He shifted back to human form as he reached her, heedless of his nakedness. His hands trembled as he touched her face. She was cold. Too cold.

“Tessa.” His voice broke on her name.

The pups whined, pressing against his legs. One of them nudged the half-eaten bread beside her. Korrin caught the scent again—honey laced with something bitter and wrong.

He pressed his fingers to her throat, holding his breath until he felt it—the faint flutter of her pulse. Relief crashed through him, followed immediately by fear. Her heartbeat was too slow, too weak.

“Tessa, wake up.” He gathered her into his arms, cradling her against his chest. Her head lolled lifelessly against his shoulder. “Please, my love.”

Edgar’s scent trail led back toward the village. Rage surged through Korrin, his beast howling for blood. Later. He would hunt the man later. Tessa needed help now.

But where could he take her? The village? They’d blame him for her condition. The Vultor enclave? Too far, and they had no healers skilled with human physiology.

Agatha. The old woman knew herbs and healing. But he couldn’t leave Tessa alone, not when Edgar might return. And he feared moving her might make things worse.

Malrik paced at the edge of the clearing, his massive form restless. The beast Vultor’s eyes fixed on Tessa, then shifted to the forest, as if suggesting a direction.

“Can you find help?” he asked desperately.

Malrik’s ears flattened, then perked. He sniffed the air, then looked toward the village.

“Please,” he said, the word foreign on his tongue. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d begged for anything. “Find Agatha. The old woman. She can help.”

Malrik’s ears twitched, his bestial features unreadable. For a terrible moment, Korrin thought he would refuse—or worse, that he didn’t understand. The beast Vultor had been trapped in his animal form for so long, perhaps language itself had abandoned him.

His arms tightened around Tessa’s limp body. Her breathing had grown more labored, each inhale a shallow gasp that tore at his soul. He’d only just found her. He couldn’t lose her now.

“Agatha,” he repeated, the name a plea. “The old woman who smells of herbs and smoke..”

Malrik’s nostrils flared. Recognition flickered in those feral eyes. With a short, sharp nod that seemed almost human, the beast turned and bounded into the forest, his massive form disappearing among the trees with surprising grace.

He exhaled shakily. He’d sent his message with a creature he’d tried to kill days before—a desperate gamble. But Malrik had seemed genuinely concerned about Tessa. Perhaps the beast remembered what it was to care for someone, even locked in his animal form.

Turning his attention back to Tessa, he carried her inside the cabin. He laid her gently on the bed, arranging her limbs with care. Her skin felt clammy under his touch, her normally rosy complexion ashen.

“Don’t leave me,” he whispered, brushing hair from her face. “I’ve only just found you.”

The pups scrambled onto the bed, whining as they nudged at her still form. One of them carried the remnant of bread in its mouth, dropping it beside Korrin with a plaintive whimper.

Korrin picked up the morsel, sniffing it carefully. Beneath the sweetness of honey lurked something acrid and wrong—a poison he didn’t recognize. His claws extended involuntarily, rage building in his chest. Edgar had done this. The coward hadn’t been able to take her by force, so he’d tried to steal her through treachery.

He’d never prayed before. The gods of his people were distant figures, unconcerned with the struggles of mortals. But now, with Tessa’s life slipping away in his arms, Korrin found himself bargaining with any deity who might listen.

“Take me instead,” he murmured, rocking her gently. “If someone must pay for my sins, let it be me.”

The thought of losing her carved a hollow space in his chest. He’d survived his mother’s death, survived the loneliness of years as an outcast, but this—this would break him. Without Tessa, the fragile humanity he’d reclaimed would shatter. He would become like Malrik, lost to the beast, a creature of instinct and rage with no memory of the man he’d once been.

“I love you,” he whispered, the words he’d been too afraid to speak now tumbling from his lips. “I’ve never loved anyone before. I don’t know how to do this right, but I know I can’t lose you.”

He inhaled her fading scent, memorizing it. If she died, he would hunt Edgar to the ends of the earth. He would tear the human apart with his bare hands. And then he would surrender to the beast, let it consume what remained of his soul.

The pups sensed his despair, climbing onto the bed to press their warm bodies against Tessa. One of them licked her hand, as if trying to wake her.

“She saved you,” he told them, his voice breaking. “And now I can’t save her.”

His claws extended, then retracted, the beast within him surging against his control. He felt the change threatening to overtake him—the shift that came from rage or fear. But he fought it back. Tessa needed him human now, needed his mind clear.

“Hold on,” he begged, brushing his lips across her forehead. “Just hold on.”