Page 2 of Alien Charming

“I meant no harm.” The voice was rich and warm, like honey poured over dark bread. “Your garden… it’s unlike anything I’ve seen before.”

“You’re interested in my plants?”

She couldn’t quite suppress a feeling of disappointment. Even though she’d suspected that must be what the watcher was really interested in, she’d hoped it was something more. But at least they had an interest in common.

“Do you garden as well?” she asked, stepping closer.

“Not like you do.” There was something in his tone—respect, perhaps. “Your hybrids are remarkable.”

She froze. “You know about those?”

“I notice things—like plants, and the female who tends them.”

“Then why don’t you introduce yourself properly?” she challenged, surprising herself with her boldness.

“Not today.” The voice grew softer. “I must go. But I enjoyed our conversation, Elli.”

The sound of her name in that deep voice sent a shiver of pleasure down her spine.

“You know my name,” she whispered.

“Of course.”

There was a warmth in his voice which brought the color rushing to her cheeks, and then he was gone, leaving only rustling leaves and questions that bloomed like her carefully tended seedlings.

But he’d been there, and she smiled as she turned back to her plants.

Over the next few weeks, the edge of the forest became her sanctuary. Each day she found herself hurrying through her chores, earning sharp comments from her aunt about her carelessness, just to reach the garden earlier. He wasn’t always there, waiting in the shadows, but he came most days and his voice became as familiar to her as the feel of soil between her fingers.

They spoke of everything—village politics, weather patterns, the books she snuck from her aunt’s library. He knew surprising things about botany and medicine, offering suggestions that improved her hybrids. But he never spoke of himself, deflecting her questions with practiced ease.

At night she found herself lying awake, imagining his face, creating a thousand versions of him in her mind. During particularly harsh days, when her aunt’s words cut deepest, she’d close her eyes and imagine walking into the forest with him, leaving everything behind.

“The moonflower and sage hybrid seems to be thriving,” she told him one afternoon, kneeling at the border between Margaret’s manicured world and his wild one.

“Why did you cross those two?” His voice carried through the trees, warm and curious.

“Moonflower has fever-reducing properties and sage soothes throat inflammation. Winter sickness can be dangerous, especially to children.” She patted the soil around the plant gently. “If this works…”

“You could save them,” he finished. “Your mind works differently from anyone I’ve met.”

She tried to smile into the shadows beneath the trees, but her hands trembled slightly as she worked.

“You seem troubled today,” he said, noticing as he always did.

“My aunt mentioned finding a possible suitor for me. A merchant from one of the northern settlements.”

She’d been too stunned by her aunt’s announcement to respond, and her aunt had given her a disapproving frown.

“You should be grateful anyone would consider you, given your background.”

“But… leaving the village.”

As unhappy as she had been, at least it had been a familiar unhappiness. She’d had her garden—and her hidden companion.

“He’s already had two wives,” she told her watcher, swallowing hard. According to her aunt it was the only reason he was willing to consider her.

An odd noise, almost like a growl, came from the woods, but her watcher didn’t say anything.

---