Page 23 of Alien Huntsman (Alien Wolf Tales #2)

CHAPTER 23

T essa’s pulse started to speed up as they approached the village outskirts. She tightened her grip on Korrin’s hand, drawing strength from his solid presence beside her. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the familiar path, one she’d walked countless times before—but never with a Vultor mate at her side.

“Are you certain about this?” he asked quietly as he scanned the village ahead, muscles tense and ready.

“Yes,” she said, more firmly than she felt. “It’s time.”

As they passed the first cluster of houses, she braced herself for fearful stares or hostile whispers. Instead, Mrs. Peterson, hanging laundry in her yard, spotted her and broke into a wide smile.

“Tessa! Thank the stars you’re alright!” The older woman hurried over, wiping her hands on her apron. Her eyes flickered briefly to Korrin, but her gaze was more curious than hostile. “We’ve been worried sick about you, dear.”

“I’m fine, Mrs. Peterson. Better than fine, actually. This is my mate, Korrin.”

He darted her a quick look, but Mrs. Peterson only beamed at her.

“Agatha told us. About time, I say. A pretty young thing like you shouldn’t be alone.”

They continued toward the village square, where the morning market was in full swing. Despite Mrs. Peterson’s friendliness, Korrin’s alertness didn’t ease, and he loomed next to her like a protective shadow. Despite that, several villagers called out greetings.

“Welcome back, Tessa!” Mr. Finch waved from his vegetable stall.

“We’ve missed your bread something terrible,” called someone else.

“That new baker Lenora hired couldn’t rise a loaf if his life depended on it,” grumbled old Mr. Warner, making several nearby villagers laugh.

Willem emerged from behind his fruit stall and hurried over. Ignoring Korrin’s warning growl, he hugged her.

“Agatha told us you were all right but I’m delighted to see for myself.” He stepped back and grinned up at a frowning Korrin. “I told you she noticed you.”

To her surprise, her mate nodded at the old man.

“Come by later,” Willem urged before they continued on their way.

Each friendly face eased the knot in her stomach. She’d expected judgment, not this warm reception. Even with Korrin’s intimidating presence, people seemed genuinely happy to see her.

Elli gave her a shy smile from behind the flower stall and beckoned her over.

“Aunt Margaret’s been talking about your stepmother. She said she’s been acting strange since you disappeared. And even stranger when word got out about Edgar?—”

She stopped abruptly, looking uncertainly at Korrin. She could feel his tension through their joined hands, but his face remained impassive.

“We heard about it,” she said calmly. “And we’re headed to the bakery now.”

“Good luck,” Elli whispered, then vanished back into the crowd.

A few minutes later they were standing outside the bakery. She took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of fresh-baked bread and sweet pastries, so familiar it made her chest ache. This place had been her sanctuary once—her father’s legacy. Now it felt like stepping into someone else’s memory.

She pushed the door open, the little bell above it announcing her arrival with a cheerful jingle that felt jarringly out of place. Korrin’s presence at her back gave her courage as she stepped inside.

Lenora stood behind the counter, hair escaping from her usually perfect coiffure, flour smudged across her expensive blouse. She looked… old and worn, her expression morphing from irritation to shock as she registered who had entered.

“Tessa?” she whispered. Her gaze darted to Korrin, then back to Tessa. “What are you doing here?”

The bakery was empty of customers. Perfect. She moved forward, stopping at the counter that had once been her domain. The wood was sticky with spilled syrup, and only a few sad-looking pastries occupied the display case.

“Hello, Lenora.” She kept her voice steady, even as her heart hammered against her ribs. “The place looks… different.”

Lenora’s mouth tightened. “If you’ve come to gloat about the state of things, you can leave. I’ve had enough troubles without you showing up.”

“Troubles?” She tilted her head. “Like Edgar being found dead? Or the fact that your plan to have me killed failed?”

Lenora’s face paled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t you?” Tessa leaned forward. “I know what you did, Lenora. I know you hired Korrin to make me ‘disappear.’ I know you sent Edgar with poisoned honey when that didn’t work.”

Lenora’s eyes darted to the door, calculating an escape, but Korrin shifted slightly, blocking the exit.

“I didn’t want you killed. I just wanted you gone. And I don’t know anything about poisoned honey.”

The last part had the ring of truth, and she supposed it was possible that Edgar had concocted that part of the plan himself. It wouldn’t surprise her if he’d decided that if he couldn’t have her, no one would.

“That doesn’t change the fact that you wanted me eliminated.”

“You have no proof.”

“I don’t need proof.” Her voice remained calm, though inside she was shaking. “Everyone in this village knows what kind of woman you are now. And they know what kind of woman I am.”

She watched Lenora’s face, noting how her stepmother’s eyes darted past her toward the bakery windows. Following her gaze, she realized a small crowd had gathered outside, faces pressed against the glass, watching the confrontation unfold. Mrs. Jacobson stood front and center, her severe expression fixed on Lenora.

Lenora’s demeanor shifted instantly. Her spine straightened, and she forced a tremulous smile. “What ridiculous accusations! I would never harm my dear stepdaughter.” She raised her voice, clearly performing for their audience. “Tessa, darling, I’ve been sick with worry since you disappeared!”

The falseness of it turned Tessa’s stomach. All those years of pretending, of enduring Lenora’s cruelty behind closed doors while she played the grieving widow and devoted stepmother in public.

“Is that so?” she asked, her voice still calm as Korrin moved closer, his warm presence steadying her. “Then perhaps you’d like to explain why you hired a bounty hunter to make me disappear?”

Lenora’s laugh was brittle. “What an imagination you have! Always making up stories?—”

“She offered me gold. More specifically a necklace that Tessa’s father left to her.” Korrin’s deep voice cut through Lenora’s protests. He stepped forward, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he studied Lenora. “A very valuable necklace to ensure Tessa vanished without a trace.”

The crowd outside gasped. Someone pushed open the bakery door, and suddenly the onlookers were no longer content to watch from outside. They filed in, silent and watchful.

“You wanted me gone so badly you were willing to have me killed,” Tessa said, her voice carrying clearly through the now-crowded bakery. “When that failed, you sent Edgar with poisoned honey.”

“I told you I have nothing to do with that.” Lenora’s face contorted. “And you can’t prove any of this! It’s your word against mine, and who would believe?—”

“I would,” Mayor Jacobson said sternly. “I always thought there was something not right about how you treated that girl after her father died.”

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the gathered villagers. So many familiar faces were now looking at Lenora with newly suspicious eyes.

She drew in a deep breath, feeling Korrin’s solid presence beside her. The familiar scents of the bakery—yeast, sugar, and warmth—wrapped around her, but they no longer felt like home. That was elsewhere now, in a cabin in the woods with the male she loved. But she had no intention of leaving the bakery in Lenora’s hands.

“You have no future here, Lenora,” she said, her voice steadier than she’d expected. “Not after what you’ve done.”

Lenora’s eyes narrowed, her lips pressing into a thin line. For a moment, vulnerability flickered across her face before hardening into defiance.

“Fine with me,” she snapped, tossing her head. “I’ll sell this pathetic little shop and that dreary house. I never wanted to be stuck in this backwater village anyway.”

“No.” She stepped forward, feeling a strength she’d never known before flowing through her. “You won’t be selling anything.”

“Excuse me?” Lenora’s voice rose sharply.

“The bakery and the house were my father’s. They should have been mine all along.” She placed her palm flat on the counter, the wood smooth and familiar beneath her fingers. “You will leave and you will take nothing but your clothes.”

Lenora’s face flushed crimson. “How dare you! I’m entitled to?—”

“Nothing else. That includes my mother’s jewelry,” she cut in, thinking of the delicate pieces her father had cherished, the ones Lenora had claimed as her own the moment he was gone. “Those were meant for me.”

The bakery had fallen completely silent. The villagers watched, wide-eyed, as Lenora’s composure cracked. She looked around wildly, searching for an ally and finding none.

“You can’t do this to me,” Lenora hissed, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper. “I am your stepmother.”

“You tried to have me killed. Twice.” She didn’t flinch at the venom in her stepmother’s voice. “You were certainly never a mother to me.”

Korrin’s hand settled at the small of her back, warm and reassuring. She didn’t need to look up at him to know his eyes were fixed on Lenora, daring her to make a move against his mate.

Lenora’s face crumpled, the fight visibly draining from her. For a fleeting moment, Tessa glimpsed something almost like regret in her stepmother’s eyes before it vanished behind a wall of cold dignity.

“Fine,” Lenora said, her voice brittle. “I’ll be gone by sunset.”

Without another word, she untied her apron, placed it on the counter with exaggerated care, and walked out. The bell above the door jingled cheerfully, a stark contrast to the tension of the moment.

As the door closed behind Lenora, Tessa felt a weight lift from her shoulders. The bakery itself seemed to exhale, the air suddenly lighter, sweeter. Sunlight streamed through the windows, illuminating the worn wooden floors and familiar counters in a warm glow.

“Well,” Mrs. Davenport said, breaking the silence, “that’s long overdue.” She stepped forward and wrapped Tessa in a tight hug. “Welcome home, dear.”

The floodgates opened. Villagers pressed forward, surrounding Tessa with warm embraces and kind words. Mr. Wilkins patted her shoulder awkwardly, confessing how much he’d missed her bread. The Cooper twins, who’d been in school with her, wanted to know all about the Vultor she’d brought back with her. Mayor Jacobson promised her full support in sorting out the legal matters of ownership. Tessa was grateful for her support, but she didn’t entirely trust the triumphant gleam in the older woman’s eyes. The mayor always had some scheme in mind.

Their kindness overwhelmed her, tears pricking at her eyes. Korrin remained at her side, his presence steady and protective. Though he didn’t speak, she noticed how his posture gradually relaxed as it became clear these people meant her no harm.

“We’ve missed you something terrible,” old Mr. Fletcher said, his weathered face creasing into a smile. “That woman Lenora hired couldn’t bake to save her life. Bread hard as rocks, it was!”

Laughter rippled through the crowd, and Tessa found herself joining in, the sound strange but welcome after so much tension.

“When will you reopen?” someone called from the back.

She glanced up at Korrin. This bakery was her heritage, her birthright—but her home was with him now.

“We’ll just have to see,” she said lightly as she turned to another well-wisher.