Page 47 of Alien Huntsman

Tessa. Limp and unmoving.

The world narrowed to that single point—Tessa’s crumpled form on the porch, the pups forming a protective circle around her.

Time slowed as he bounded forward. She lay so still, her skin alabaster against the dark wood of the porch. His heart seized in his chest. No. Not her. Not when he’d finally found something worth living for.

He shifted back to human form as he reached her, heedless of his nakedness. His hands trembled as he touched her face. She was cold. Too cold.

“Tessa.” His voice broke on her name.

The pups whined, pressing against his legs. One of them nudged the half-eaten bread beside her. Korrin caught the scent again—honey laced with something bitter and wrong.

He pressed his fingers to her throat, holding his breath until he felt it—the faint flutter of her pulse. Relief crashed through him, followed immediately by fear. Her heartbeat was too slow, too weak.

“Tessa, wake up.” He gathered her into his arms, cradling her against his chest. Her head lolled lifelessly against his shoulder. “Please, my love.”

Edgar’s scent trail led back toward the village. Rage surged through Korrin, his beast howling for blood. Later. He would hunt the man later. Tessa needed help now.

But where could he take her? The village? They’d blame him for her condition. The Vultor enclave? Too far, and they had no healers skilled with human physiology.

Agatha. The old woman knew herbs and healing. But he couldn’t leave Tessa alone, not when Edgar might return. And he feared moving her might make things worse.

Malrik paced at the edge of the clearing, his massive form restless. The beast Vultor’s eyes fixed on Tessa, then shifted to the forest, as if suggesting a direction.

“Can you find help?” he asked desperately.

Malrik’s ears flattened, then perked. He sniffed the air, then looked toward the village.

“Please,” he said, the word foreign on his tongue. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d begged for anything. “Find Agatha. The old woman. She can help.”

Malrik’s ears twitched, his bestial features unreadable. For a terrible moment, Korrin thought he would refuse—or worse, that he didn’t understand. The beast Vultor had been trapped in his animal form for so long, perhaps language itself had abandoned him.

His arms tightened around Tessa’s limp body. Her breathing had grown more labored, each inhale a shallow gasp that tore at his soul. He’d only just found her. He couldn’t lose her now.

“Agatha,” he repeated, the name a plea. “The old woman who smells of herbs and smoke..”

Malrik’s nostrils flared. Recognition flickered in those feral eyes. With a short, sharp nod that seemed almost human, the beast turned and bounded into the forest, his massive form disappearing among the trees with surprising grace.

He exhaled shakily. He’d sent his message with a creature he’d tried to kill days before—a desperate gamble. But Malrik had seemed genuinely concerned about Tessa. Perhaps the beast remembered what it was to care for someone, even locked in his animal form.

Turning his attention back to Tessa, he carried her inside the cabin. He laid her gently on the bed, arranging her limbs with care. Her skin felt clammy under his touch, her normally rosy complexion ashen.

“Don’t leave me,” he whispered, brushing hair from her face. “I’ve only just found you.”

The pups scrambled onto the bed, whining as they nudged at her still form. One of them carried the remnant of bread in its mouth, dropping it beside Korrin with a plaintive whimper.

Korrin picked up the morsel, sniffing it carefully. Beneath the sweetness of honey lurked something acrid and wrong—a poison he didn’t recognize. His claws extended involuntarily, rage building in his chest. Edgar had done this. The coward hadn’t been able to take her by force, so he’d tried to steal her through treachery.

He’d never prayed before. The gods of his people were distant figures, unconcerned with the struggles of mortals. But now, with Tessa’s life slipping away in his arms, Korrin found himself bargaining with any deity who might listen.

“Take me instead,” he murmured, rocking her gently. “If someone must pay for my sins, let it be me.”

The thought of losing her carved a hollow space in his chest. He’d survived his mother’s death, survived the loneliness of years as an outcast, but this—this would break him. Without Tessa, the fragile humanity he’d reclaimed would shatter. He would become like Malrik, lost to the beast, a creature of instinct and rage with no memory of the man he’d once been.

“I love you,” he whispered, the words he’d been too afraid to speak now tumbling from his lips. “I’ve never loved anyone before. I don’t know how to do this right, but I know I can’t lose you.”

He inhaled her fading scent, memorizing it. If she died, he would hunt Edgar to the ends of the earth. He would tear the human apart with his bare hands. And then he would surrender to the beast, let it consume what remained of his soul.

The pups sensed his despair, climbing onto the bed to press their warm bodies against Tessa. One of them licked her hand, as if trying to wake her.

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