Page 7

CHAPTER 7

M alrik followed Bella, watching from the shadows as she moved through his domain. The beast in him purred with satisfaction at her presence. Her scent filled the empty halls, marking them as occupied once more. She belonged here with him in his territory—the bargain had been struck—but his emerging rational side felt a prickle of unease.

What had he done? Trapped a female here? The thought disturbed the Vultor part of him that struggled toward consciousness.

The beast growled. Mine. Here. Safe .

He kept his distance as she explored, moving silently through hidden passages and darkened corners. The massive claws that tipped his paws made no sound on the stone floors. Years of hunting had taught him to be silent, even in this monstrous form.

The rational part of him wondered why he didn’t simply walk with her, show her what needed repair. But the beast was content to observe from a distance, to ensure she remained.

She stopped to study a control panel, her expression brightening as she studied its design. “This isn’t like anything we have in the village,” she murmured to herself. “The integration of organic components with the standard tech… fascinating.”

Something stirred in him at her words. Pride? He had commanded this place be built with the finest technology available, hadn’t he? Yes… yes, that memory was clear now. Standing tall in his humanoid form, gesturing at plans spread across a table, demanding only the best.

“The other clans build simple dwellings that blend with the forest,” a voice had argued. “This display of wealth and technology goes against our ways since settling on Cresca.”

But he had dismissed those concerns. He was Malrik, son of the High Alpha. He would have a dwelling that showcased his status, that impressed any who visited.

The beast growled softly at the memory, unsettled by its clarity. These flashes had been coming ever since he caught her scent for the first time, but they have never been this vivid.

He pushed the memories aside as he followed her. The beast wanted to curl around her, to mark her with his scent. His rational side wanted to understand why she fascinated him so.

She found the main power junction and knelt before it, pulling tools from her belt. Her fingers moved with surprising confidence over circuits that had been dead for years. He tilted his head, watching as she muttered to herself.

“Primitive routing system, but the core architecture is solid. Just needs…” She twisted something, and a section of lights flickered weakly before dying again. “Almost. Not enough power distribution yet.”

Another memory flashed through his mind—standing in this very corridor, towering over a cowering architect.

“Higher ceilings. More grandeur. I want every Vultor who enters to feel my power.”

“But Lord Malrik, the others have chosen simpler dwellings. They say we should adapt to Cresca, not ? —”

“The others lack vision. Build it as I command.”

The memory vanished as quickly as it had come, leaving him disoriented. He flexed his claws, watching them extend and retract as he fought to hold onto the thought.

When she discovered the grand staircase—its sweeping curve designed to impress visitors as they ascended to the upper levels—another memory surfaced. He had commissioned artisans to carve the stone balustrades with scenes of Vultor history. The work had taken months, and he had paid handsomely for it.

“Such extravagance,” a voice had chided. “While your people struggle to establish themselves on this new world.”

His people. Yes, he had responsibilities to them, hadn’t he? Responsibilities he had neglected in favor of… what? The memory slipped away before he could grasp it.

She ran her hand along the intricate carvings, studying the scenes depicted. “These tell a story,” she said softly. “A journey… a war… and then coming here, to Cresca.”

She was clever, this human female.

“Someone had quite the ego,” she added, and he growled softly. Had he truly been so vain?

She continued her exploration, pushing open a set of massive double doors. They creaked in protest, but opened to reveal a vast, empty ballroom. Grey light streamed through tall windows, illuminating the inlaid floor and the remains of crystal chandeliers that had crashed to the ground long ago. Though many of the windows were now cracked or broken, enough remained to showcase the breathtaking view. The wooden floor, once polished to a high shine, was now warped and stained from years of exposure to the elements.

She stepped inside, her footsteps echoing. “This is incredible.”

He hesitated at the threshold. This room held… something. Something he didn’t want to remember.

She walked to the center of the space, turning slowly to take it all in. “What was this place? Some kind of gathering hall?”

Females lined up before him, one after another. Each dressed in elaborate finery, each hoping to catch his eye. A succession of potential mates, brought to his fortress to be inspected, evaluated, chosen or rejected.

And he had rejected them all.

“You cannot continue this way, Malrik,” the voice—his advisor, his friend—had warned. “The elders grow impatient. You must choose a mate, strengthen the bloodlines.”

“None are worthy,” he had replied dismissively. “ I will not bind myself to one who does not meet my standards.”

“Your standards or your pride? The curse ? —”

“Do not speak to me of superstitions! I am Malrik, son of ? —”

The memory fractured, slipping away before he could grasp its full meaning. Frustration boiled up inside him, and a growl rumbled from deep in his chest.

She spun around, peering into the shadows where he lurked.

“I know you’re there,” she said firmly. “Show yourself. If we’re going to be stuck together while I fix your tech, the least you can do is stop skulking around.”

He remained motionless. The beast wanted to retreat, to watch from safety. The rational side…

“I said show yourself.” She planted her hands on her hips. “I’m not afraid of you.”

She was lying. He could smell the sharp tang of fear beneath her bravado. But there was something else too—curiosity.

He stepped forward, allowing the dim light to illuminate his massive form. Eight feet of corded muscle and dark silver fur etched with scars. Fangs that could tear through flesh. Claws that could rend metal.

She inhaled sharply but held her ground.

“There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Her voice had the slightest tremor.

He tilted his head, studying her. Most humans would have fled screaming by now. She was… unusual.

“What is this place?” she asked, gesturing around the ballroom. “It’s not like any Vultor dwelling I’ve heard about. They usually prefer smaller spaces hidden amongst the trees.”

“Mine,” he growled, the word coming out harsh and guttural.

“Yes, I gathered that part.” She rolled her eyes. “But why so… elaborate? It’s like a human palace from ancient Earth.”

Another memory flickered—the architect again, showing him designs based on historical human structures. He had been fascinated by them, and had insisted on incorporating elements that the other Vultor considered wasteful.

“Show… power,” he managed, the words feeling strange in his mouth.

She nodded slowly. “You wanted to impress people.”

He growled, not liking how accurately she’d assessed him.

Another memory surfaced—standing alone in this very room after all the guests had departed, staring out at the night sky, feeling… what? Not satisfaction. Not happiness. Something else. Something hollow.

“You surround yourself with beauty but remain empty inside,” that same voice had said from the doorway. “All this grandeur cannot fill the void where your heart should be.”

“Leave me,” he had commanded, not turning to face his friend. “I tire of your moralizing.”

“The elders say the curse finds those who ? —”

“Enough! I will hear no more of curses and prophecies. Go, before I forget our friendship entirely.”

Footsteps retreating. Then silence. Always, in the end, silence.

The memory faded, leaving him disoriented. The beast whined, confused by the emotions the male experienced. Regret. Shame. Loneliness.

“Are you all right?” she asked, taking a step toward him.

He backed away instinctively.

“Yes,” he lied. Then, “No.”

She stopped, respecting his retreat.

“Let’s focus on what we can fix,” she suggested gently. “The power core first. I’ll need to understand how it works before I start making repairs.”

The practicality of her approach steadied him. This, at least, was simple. A problem to be solved, not a past to be unraveled.

The memory returned, stronger this time.

“The curse of the unmated…” His advisor’s voice echoed in his mind, warning him of something he’d refused to hear.

What curse? The thought slipped away, leaving only frustration in its wake. He growled again, louder this time.

She sighed and put her hands on her hips again.

“Listen, if we’re going to make this work, you need to use your words. Growling isn’t communication.” She took a step toward him, fearless now. “What do you want from me, exactly? You said fix the tech, but which systems? What’s the priority?”

He stared at her, caught between beast and rationality. What did he want? The beast knew—it wanted her here, in his territory, her scent mingling with his. But the emerging Vultor wanted…

“Light,” he rumbled. “Heat.”

She nodded. “Basics first. That makes sense. The power distribution system needs work before we can get to anything fancy.” She glanced around the ballroom again. “Though I’d love to see this place lit up properly.”

An image flashed in his mind—the ballroom ablaze with light, music playing, the floor filled with dancers. Himself standing apart, watching, always apart.

She was still talking, making plans, listing the tools and equipment she’d need. Her confidence soothed something in him. She wasn’t cowering or fleeing. She was… helping.

“You’ll need to show me around properly,” she said. “I need to see the central power core, any backup generators, and the main junction boxes.”

He nodded, oddly pleased by her competence. He gestured toward the door, indicating she should precede him.

As they left the ballroom, he cast one last look over his shoulder. The memory of his advisor’s warning nagged at him, but the details remained frustratingly out of reach.

The curse of the unmated…

What had he forgotten? And why did it feel so important now, with this human female in his keep?

The beast didn’t care about the past. It lived in the now, and now, the female was here. His territory felt right with her in it.

But as more of his rational side surfaced, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d made this mistake before—letting pride rule him, rejecting what he needed most.

As they walked, the beast and the male warred within him. The beast wanted only to keep her in his territory, to guard her presence. The male wanted… what? To understand? To remember? To be free of this form that trapped him between worlds?

Or perhaps, most disturbing of all, to be seen as something more than a monster by the female who now walked these halls with him.

He watched as she examined everything with keen interest, her hands quick and sure as she tested connections and traced power lines.

Watching her work, he felt something he hadn’t experienced in what must have been years—a sense of purpose. Of possibility. The fortress had been a prison of his own making, even before he lost himself to the beast. Now, with her presence, it felt different. Alive again, in a way it hadn’t been since…

Since when?

The memory wouldn’t come. But for the first time, that didn’t fill him with rage or frustration. Instead, he felt a strange sort of patience. The answers would come, or they wouldn’t. For now, it was enough to watch her plan to bring light back to his darkened halls.

For now, it was enough that she was here.