Page 13 of Alien Charming

His jaw tightened. Such willful ignorance seemed inexcusable to him. His judgment of others was built on careful observation and measured responses, not gossip.

“Besides,” she continued, her cheeks suddenly flushing pink as she looked back down at her plants, “I had something more important on my mind today.”

The change in her scent was immediate—a sweetness that made his nostrils flare. His pulse quickened in response.

“I was…” she hesitated, fingers nervously twisting a leaf, “looking forward to seeing you again.”

Pleasure surged through him, and he had to fight the urge to drag her into his arms and never let go. He knew he should be thinking about ways to bridge the gap between their people, but instead he found himself wanting to forget everything except this moment, with her.

Her eyes flicked up to him again, uncertainty and hope warring within their depths. “Is that strange?”

“No, little one.” His voice came out rough. “Not strange at all.”

She smiled, and he realized it might become his new addiction. Her entire face transformed when she was happy—her eyes brightening, her cheeks glowing. And her lips—they looked so soft and inviting that he had to clench his fists to resist the urge to touch them. To taste them.

“I know it’s silly,” she added, dropping her eyes again. “We barely know each other.”

He crouched lower, trying to catch her gaze. When she finally looked up, the vulnerability in her eyes made his protective instincts surge. He wanted to shield her from everything—the villagers, her aunt, the harshness of the world that had made her doubt the worth of her own feelings.

“It’s not silly,” he said quietly. “I’ve been thinking of you too.”

Her face flushed pink with pleasure at his admission—stirring something dangerous within him. Something he had no right to feel.

“I shouldn’t,” he said, more to himself than to her.

“Shouldn’t what?” Her eyes met his, innocent and direct in a way that made his chest ache.

He looked away, focusing on the lavender plant between them. Its delicate purple buds seemed impossibly fragile beneath his large scarred hands. Just like Elli would be.

“Want you,” he finally answered, unable to meet her eyes.

“Why not?”

A thousand reasons raced through his mind. The peace alliance he was trying to forge. His responsibilities as alpha. The dangers of his world. But all of that felt distant and inconsequential in the face of her steady gaze, and the way her presence calmed something deep within him.

“You deserve better than an old warrior’s company,” he said finally.

To his surprise she gave a soft laugh. “Old? You can’t be that old.”

“Forty-three winters. Nearly twice your years.”

“And that matters because…?” she asked, the challenge in her voice gentle but unmistakable.

His head jerked up. “Do human females not prefer younger males?”

A small smile played at the corners of her mouth. “Some do, I suppose. But not all.”

He stared at her, unable to tear his gaze from the invitation in her smile. He’d never seen her like this—teasing, flirtatious, playful. It was as unexpected as it was welcome.

“You’d want a battered old Vultor like me?” The question was out before he could stop it.

“Did you have anyone else in mind?” she asked, a teasing glint in her eye.

He shook his head, unable to look away from her. “No one else exists for me.”

The words hung between them, heavy with promise, and the air felt charged, like the moment before a lightning strike. A tiny voice in the back of his mind whispered that he was being foolish, that this would only end in pain for both of them, but he pushed it aside.

Slowly, deliberately, he reached out and ran a finger along her cheek. Her skin was even softer than he’d imagined, and her sharp intake of breath at his touch sent a surge of desire racing through him.

---