Page 19 of Alien Huntsman (Alien Wolf Tales #2)

CHAPTER 19

T he darkness engulfed Tessa like frigid water, dragging her down into its depths. She couldn’t move, couldn’t scream, couldn’t even remember how she’d gotten here. Time stretched and contracted around her—had she been floating in this void for minutes or years?

Cold seeped into her bones, her blood, her very essence. She tried to fight against it, to push back against the heaviness pressing down on her chest, but her limbs refused to obey. Her thoughts moved sluggishly, like honey frozen in winter.

Let go , the darkness seemed to whisper. Rest now. Sleep forever.

Part of her wanted to surrender, to sink deeper into the nothingness where pain and fear couldn’t reach. It would be so easy to let the darkness claim her completely.

But something tugged at the edges of her consciousness—a flicker of warmth, distant but persistent. She couldn’t see it or touch it, but she felt its presence like a beacon calling her home.

Tessa.

Her name drifted through the void, carried on a current of desperation and love. The voice was familiar, though she couldn’t place it through the fog clouding her mind.

Come back to me.

The warmth grew stronger, pushing back against the cold that had settled in her chest. It wasn’t enough to break the darkness’s hold, but it gave her something to focus on, something to fight for.

Memories flickered at the edges of her consciousness—berry crumble baking in an oven, playful wolf pups tumbling at her feet, strong arms holding her close, amber eyes watching her with hunger and tenderness.

Korrin .

The name formed in her mind, bringing with it a surge of longing so powerful it briefly cut through the numbness. She tried to reach toward the warmth, toward him, but the darkness pulled her back, jealously guarding its prize.

Not yet, it seemed to say. You belong to me now.

The cold intensified, driving deep into her core. She felt herself slipping further away from that precious warmth, that connection to life and love. The darkness swallowed her screams, her tears, her desperate struggle to hold onto the memory of amber eyes and gentle hands.

Then, cutting through the silence, a voice reached her. Soft but insistent, it tugged at her consciousness.

“Tessa, child. Come back now.”

The voice was achingly familiar—the gentle cadence, the slight rasp that came with age, the underlying steel that brooked no argument.

Agatha?

It couldn’t be. Grandmother Agatha was back in the village, not here in this empty void. And yet the warmth of her voice felt real, like sunlight breaking through storm clouds after endless rain.

“You have to wake up, Tessa. He needs you.”

The words drifted through her mind, elusive and teasing. Who needed her? Images flickered behind her closed eyelids—amber eyes wild with fear, strong hands trembling as they cradled her.

Korrin.

Something sparked inside her—a fragile thread of awareness. Tessa reached for it desperately, clinging to this tenuous connection to the world beyond the darkness.

“That’s it, child. Fight. The poison wants to take you, but you’re stronger than it thinks.”

Poison? The word stirred a memory—the sweet taste of honey, the dizziness that followed, Edgar’s face swimming before her eyes.

“He’s going mad with worry, your Vultor. Never seen one of them so undone. If you don’t come back to him, I fear what he’ll become.”

Agatha’s voice grew clearer, as if she were drawing closer. Tessa strained toward the sound, using it as an anchor against the pull of the darkness.

The ice surrounding her began to crack, hairline fractures spreading across her frozen prison. Warmth seeped through these tiny fissures, tentative at first, then growing stronger. A steady, insistent pressure at her side anchored her to the world of the living—something solid and real amid the void.

It wasn’t just warmth—it was him. Korrin.

His presence resonated through her like a heartbeat, powerful and familiar. She could feel him now, his large hand wrapped around hers, his thumb tracing anxious circles on her palm. The sensation sent ripples of awareness through her, each one pushing back the cold a little more.

“Tessa.” His voice was raw, stripped of its usual arrogance. “Come back to me.”

She struggled toward it, toward him, clawing her way through layers of darkness. Each movement was agony, her mind sluggish and uncooperative, but she pushed forward. Korrin was waiting. Korrin needed her.

His scent reached her now—that indefinable wildness that was uniquely his. She drew it in, let it fill her lungs and chase away the numbness.

“Please,” he whispered, the word so soft she almost missed it. “I can’t lose you.”

Exhaustion tried to pull her under again, the poison in her veins whispering seductively of rest and release. It would be so easy to surrender, to slip back into the darkness where nothing hurt and nothing mattered. But Korrin’s grip tightened, as if he sensed her slipping away.

“Fight, little baker,” he growled, the command laced with desperation. “You’re stronger than this.”

She focused on his voice, used it as a lifeline. Each syllable drew her closer to the surface, each word another crack in the ice. She was so tired, but she couldn’t give up—not when he was waiting, not when she’d finally found where she belonged.

She felt a firm arm around her, his body wrapped around hers as if trying to shield her from the cold that had settled deep in her bones. Despite her weakness, she registered the warmth of him seeping into her, fighting back the chill that had nearly claimed her.

His breath was hot against her temple, stirring loose strands of her hair. “Stay with me, Tessa. Don’t you dare leave me.” The raw desperation in his tone sent a pang through her chest. Korrin, always so controlled, sounded broken. She’d never heard him like this—vulnerable, afraid.

She wanted to respond, to squeeze his hand, to open her eyes—anything to ease his suffering. But her body refused to cooperate, heavy and unresponsive as if weighted down with stones. The poison still coursed through her veins, dulling her senses and draining her strength.

Still, something inside her stirred at his plea. The fierce protectiveness in his voice wrapped around her heart, giving her something to fight for. She focused on that feeling, using it to pull herself toward the surface of consciousness.

With monumental effort, she managed to twitch her fingers against his palm. The movement was tiny, barely perceptible, but she felt Korrin go utterly still against her.

“Tessa?” His voice was rough with hope and disbelief. “Can you hear me?”

She struggled to part her lips, to make any sound at all. A faint moan escaped her, the best she could manage, but it was enough.

“She’s responding,” she heard him say to someone else in the room. “Agatha, she moved her hand.”

Her eyelids fluttered, heavy as stone, but she forced them open. At first, everything was blurred—shifting shadows, indistinct light—and her head pounded with each heartbeat. She blinked slowly, trying to clear her vision as the world gradually came into focus around her.

Golden eyes. Burning bright with intensity, they were the first thing she truly saw. Korrin’s face swam into view, tight with worry, his features carved into harsh lines of fear and exhaustion. His jaw was clenched, his brow furrowed, but those eyes—they burned with something that made her heart clench.

“Tessa.” Her name on his lips sounded like both a prayer and a plea.

His hands were on her, gripping her like he was afraid she’d disappear if he loosened his hold even slightly. One large palm cupped her face, his thumb brushing over her cheek, tracing warmth into her frozen skin. The gentle gesture contrasted sharply with the desperate strength in his grip.

She tried to speak, but her throat felt raw and parched. Her tongue was thick and unwieldy in her mouth. She wanted to reassure him, to tell him she was still here, that she wasn’t going anywhere. The fear in his eyes was unbearable—she’d never seen him look so vulnerable, so utterly terrified.

She managed to lift her hand, her movements weak and uncoordinated. Her fingers brushed against his chest, feeling the thunderous beating of his heart beneath her palm. She drew in a shallow, painful breath.

“Korrin,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. The single word seemed to take all her strength, but she needed to say more. Needed him to know the one truth that had anchored her, that had pulled her back from the darkness.

“I love you.”

She saw his expression shift—shock washing over his features, followed by wonder, and then something even deeper, more primal. His golden eyes widened, pupils dilating until they nearly swallowed the amber. The hands that had been gripping her so desperately trembled against her skin.

For one breathless moment, he seemed frozen, as if her words had turned him to stone. Then his face transformed, the harsh lines of fear melting into something she’d never seen before—a vulnerability so raw it made her heart ache.

“Tessa,” he whispered, her name sounding different on his lips now, like it held some sacred meaning.

She wanted to say more, to tell him everything she felt, but her body betrayed her. The momentary strength that had allowed her to speak those three words faded, leaving her drained. Her eyelids grew heavy again, too heavy to keep open despite her desire to keep looking at him.

His arms tightened around her, pulling her closer against the solid warmth of his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat echoed against her ear, strong and sure. She could feel the slight tremor that ran through his powerful body, belying the control he always maintained.

“Rest now,” he murmured, his breath warm against her hair. “You’re safe.”

She let herself sink into his embrace, no longer fighting the exhaustion that pulled at her. This time, she didn’t fear the darkness. This wasn’t the cold void that had tried to claim her before—this was different. This was warmth and safety and Korrin.

As consciousness slipped away, she felt the gentle press of his lips against her forehead, the lightest touch that somehow anchored her to the world. She drifted, not into emptiness, but into the sanctuary of his arms, knowing he would be waiting for her when she woke.