Page 15 of Alien Huntsman

The cabin stood exactly as he remembered—weathered logs darkened by seasons of rain and snow, a sturdy chimney of stacked stone rising from one end. The forest had crept closer over the years, branches stretching toward the roof like curious fingers.

He shifted the bundle of pups and strode forward. The door creaked as he pushed it open, revealing the single room beyond. Dust motes danced in the shafts of light filtering through the shuttered windows. A rough-hewn table with two chairs occupied one corner, a narrow bed the other. The stone fireplace dominated the far wall, cold ashes still piled in its hearth.

“It’s not much,” he muttered, setting the pups down in the box next to the fireplace intended to hold firewood.

She’d followed him inside, wandering slowly around the small space. She didn’t speak as she crossed to the bed, running her fingers over the worn quilt before she sighed and turned to face him.

“Why are you doing this?”

The question hung in the air between them. He stared at her, at this human female who should mean nothing to him. Her dark curls had escaped their braid, framing a face smudged with dirt from the journey but still undeniably appealing. Those blue eyes held no fear now, only questions.

Why was he doing this? He’d been paid to make her disappear. The simplest solution would have been to kill her quickly. Even taking her far into the mountains and abandoning her would have fulfilled his contract.

Instead, he’d brought her here. Brought her to a place where he’d once sought refuge himself.

He turned away from her probing gaze, unwilling to examine his own motives too closely. Instead he busied himself clearing the ashes from the fireplace.

“Your stepmother wants you dead,” he said finally, avoiding the actual question. “I’m keeping you alive. For now.”

Her silence felt heavy somehow. After a moment, he heard the soft rustle of her skirts as she turned away and he released a breath.

“I’ll get you settled, then I’ll leave. There’s enough here to keep you alive. Food stores in the larder and root cellar. Creek for water about fifty paces west.”

Once again she didn’t answer and he couldn’t prevent himself from turning to look at her. She was studying him, eyes wide and thoughtful.

“You’re just going to abandon me here?”

“Better than the alternative.” He moved toward the door, needing space to clear his head. “I’ll get firewood.”

Outside, the mountain air filled his lungs, crisp and clean. He followed a worn path to a small clearing where split logs had been stacked under a crude shelter. He’d left a decent supply last time he was here but she would need more if she were going to be here for any length of time.

He grabbed the axe stored under the shelter and swung it with practiced ease, splitting a log cleanly down the middle. The physical exertion felt good, channeling the restless energy that had been building inside him.

He’d leave her here. It was the sensible solution. The cabin was far enough from the village that Lenora would assume her stepdaughter was dead, but close enough to civilization that she could eventually find her way back if she chose. Or make a life here. Either way, his hands would be clean.

Another log split beneath his axe. And another.

The image of her face floated unwanted into his mind—her soft smile as she watched the pups, creatures most humans would have destroyed without hesitation. The determination in her eyes as she’d followed him through the forest without complaint.

He paused, axe raised mid-swing, as the truth hit him with unexpected force: he didn’t want to leave her.

The realization unsettled him. He’d spent years keeping everyone at a distance, but especially humans, knowing their capacity for cruelty and betrayal. Yet something about this female pulled at him, awakening instincts he’d long suppressed.

His beast stirred restlessly beneath his skin, insistent and demanding.Ours. Stay. Protect.

He slowly lowered the axe. He was playing with fire and he knew it, and yet, the prospect of leaving her behind, alone in the mountains, made his chest ache.

He’d been alone like that. He knew what it was like.

Fuck.

The single curse seemed entirely inadequate for the mess of conflicting thoughts and feelings crashing through him.

She was human. Weak. Fragile. Yet somehow stronger than many of his kind.

And the way she’d looked at him just now, as though she understood his actions. As if she’d forgiven him for taking her from her home and delivering her to the edge of the wilderness.

“Fuck,” he repeated, running a hand through his hair.

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