Page 48 of Alien Charming

“Then I will give up my position.”

Her eyes widened. “You can’t do that. Not after all of your efforts to bring peace.”

He silenced her with a kiss. “I would give up everything for you, little one.”

After he helped her dress, he sat behind her on the mossy bank, gently removing the ribbon from her hair. It tumbled down her back in a riot of waves, and he combed his fingers through it, enjoying the feel of the silky strands. She leaned back against him, a soft, contented sigh escaping her lips.

“I wish we could stay here forever,” she murmured. “Just the two of us, away from the rest of the world.”

He kissed the top of her head. “We have the rest of our lives to spend in this forest,” he promised. “But for now, I want to introduce you to the pack.”

She nodded and took his hand, walking quietly beside him as they made their way back to the enclave, their hands clasped tightly together. A strange mixture of pride and apprehension filled him as they drew near. His pack would need to accept his choice, but he knew in his heart that she would win them over just as she had won him.

Despite that, his shoulders tensed as they approached and his beast prowled restlessly. His arm tightened protectively around her as the first structures came into view through the trees. The familiar scent of home—woodsmoke, pine, and the distinctive musk of his kind—filled his nostrils, but it was her sweet, clean scent that kept him grounded.

He glanced down at her, taking in her wide eyes and the slight tremble of her hand in his. Despite her nervousness, she walked with her head high.

“They will love you,” he murmured, though he knew the transition wouldn’t be that simple.

Several Vultor paused in their activities as they emerged from the forest path. Their eyes flashed with curiosity, then widenedin understanding as they caught Elli’s scent mingled with his own.

Varro approached first, his massive frame blocking their path. His nostrils flared as he took in their combined scent.

“Alpha,” he acknowledged, his gaze lingering on Elli. Not hostile, but not welcoming either.

More of the pack gathered, drawn by the presence of a female at his side. He could hear her heartbeat quicken, though she showed remarkable composure, and he pulled her closer to his side. His beast growled protectively as he surveyed his pack.

“This is Elli,” he announced, his voice carrying across the clearing. “She is my mate.”

A murmur rippled through the gathered Vultor. Some looked surprised, others concerned, a few openly disapproving.

“Anyone who disrespects her,” he continued, his voice dropping to a dangerous rumble, “disrespects me. I will not tolerate it.”

The warning hung in the air, clear and unmistakable. His gaze swept across his pack, meeting each pair of eyes in turn, silently demanding acknowledgment of his declaration.

Nyra was the first to step forward. She inclined her head towards Elli.

“Welcome to our home,” she said politely, and Elli gave her a shy smile.

Not everyone greeted her, but those who did were respectful and he was content with that. For now. Nonetheless, it was a relief to lead her away from the curious eyes of his pack. The initial introduction had gone better than he’d feared, though heharbored no illusions about the challenges ahead. His fingers tightened around hers, drawing strength from her touch.

“Come,” he murmured, guiding her along a narrow path that wound deeper into the forest. “My den is not far.”

The trail curved through ancient evergreens and low flowering bushes, gradually ascending a gentle slope. He watched her face, delighting in the wonder that flickered across her features as she took in the wild beauty surrounding them. Here, away from the main enclave, the forest breathed with a primal energy that resonated with his Vultor nature.

“It’s beautiful,” she said breathlessly, pausing to admire a cluster of vibrant wildflowers.

“They grow only here,” he explained, feeling an unexpected surge of pride. “Something in the soil near my den.”

As they crested the hill, his cottage came into view. Built of stone and timber, it nestled against the hillside as if it had grown from the earth itself. Climbing vines embraced the walls, and smoke curled lazily from the stone chimney.

Her eyes widened. “This is where you live?”

He nodded, suddenly seeing his home through her eyes. It was modest compared to Mayor Jacobson’s house, but it was his sanctuary, built with his own hands over the years.

“It’s not much—” he began.

“It’s perfect,” she interrupted, squeezing his hand.

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