Page 22 of Alien Huntsman

He remained silent, but she felt his eyes on her. Studying. Considering.

“I don’t know that I’d like all Vultor, but I like who you are,” she admitted, her cheeks warming. “You’re protective and fierce. Honest. And you treat those adyani pups like they’re your children.”

The corner of his mouth curled up slightly at that. “They’re growing on me.”

“I’m glad.” She leaned forward, unable to resist reaching for his hand again. “Maybe it’s time you stopped trying to keep people at a distance.”

His fingers tightened on hers. The fire crackled as she watched him, his eyes reflecting the flickering light. Something about him called to her, stirred something deep inside.

“Maybe.”

It wasn’t much but it was a start.

The next morning she met him at the door when he returned from his morning hunt.

“I want you to teach me,” she said quickly, and he raised an eyebrow.

“Teach you what?”

“Everything. How to navigate the forest, find food, identify what’s safe to eat.” She gestured to the rabbits. “I can’t just wait here while you do everything. And if you’re not here…”

He started to say something then changed his mind, studying her for a long moment, those amber eyes unreadable. “It’s dangerous out there.”

“Which is exactly why I need to learn. What if something happens to you?”

A flash of something—concern?—crossed his face before he nodded. “Fine. We’ll start today.”

The forest was transformed in daylight, less threatening and more magical. She listened carefully as he pointed out landmarks, teaching her how to orient herself.

“The moss grows thicker on the north side of trees,” he explained, his large hand brushing against the trunk. “And see how the branches grow? They reach toward the sun.”

When he showed her which berries were safe to eat, their fingers brushed as he placed them in her palm. A jolt of warmth shot up her arm, and she nearly dropped them. His eyes met hers, briefly flaring gold before he looked away.

“These mushrooms are poisonous,” he said later, crouching beside a cluster of red-capped fungi. She kneeled beside him, their shoulders touching. “But these—” he reached for another variety nearby, “—are safe.”

She leaned closer to examine them, suddenly aware of how near his face was to hers. His wild clean scent filled her senses, and when she looked up, he was watching her and he heart raced at the hunger in his eyes.

“I—” she began, but the words died in her throat.

He very slowly lifted his hand and touched her cheek. Only the lightest touch but her whole being was focused on that one point of contact. She started to sway towards him, but then he was back on his feet and reaching down to help her up.

That night, she proudly stirred the stew, made almost entirely of her efforts in the forest. The savory aroma filled the small cabin, mingling with the scent of fresh bread she’d managed to bake in the crude oven. She glanced over to smile at Korrin and found him sprawled on the rug in front of the fire, surrounded by the adyani pups.

Storm was chewing on his vest while Bold tugged playfully at his boot. The remaining five tumbled around him in a squirming mass of fur and tiny teeth. What struck her most wasn’t just that he allowed it, but that his usual stern expression had softened into something that almost resembled a smile.

“They’re getting stronger,” she observed, hiding her own smile behind the wooden spoon she was using.

He grunted as a pup nipped his finger. “And more troublesome.”

But there was no heat in his words. His large hand carefully scooped up Bashful and tucked him against his shoulder. The tiny creature nuzzled against his neck, and her chest suddenly ached.

The cabin felt different tonight. The fire crackled, the stew bubbled, and the pups’ playful yips filled the space between. As she moved around the small kitchen area, setting out the wooden bowls and spoons, she was aware of his eyes following her movements.

This felt like… home. Not the bakery with Lenora’s constant criticism. Not even her father’s house before his death. This was something new, something she’d craved without knowing it—a place where she belonged. Here, in this rustic cabin with a man who’d kidnapped her and seven orphaned pups, she felt more at peace than she had in years. It was absurd. Dangerous, even. And yet…

She watched as he gently disentangled himself from the pups, careful not to hurt them. The fearsome bounty hunter who’d terrified her just days ago now looked almost… domestic.

The thought of family—something she hadn’t truly had since her father died—bloomed warm and unexpected in her chest.

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