Page 5 of Alien Charming

He returned to the Vultor enclave just as the sun dipped below the mountain ridge. The settlement sprawled across a series of rocky ledges, half-concealed amongst the trees. Fires flickered to life as twilight descended, casting long shadows across the gathering spaces.

He’d run the entire way back, pushing his body to exhaustion in a futile attempt to clear his mind of Elli’s scent, her smile, her eyes. It hadn’t worked, but there were other matters he needed to deal with.

“The council is waiting,” Nyra said as he approached the central firepit. That talented potter was one of his most trusted advisors, giving him a sympathetic smile when he sighed.

Of course the council was waiting. He’d called this meeting before his… detour to Elli’s garden. He rolled his shoulders, trying to force his thoughts away from soft hands and gentle words.

“Any problems while I was gone?” he asked, falling into step beside her.

“Just the usual complaints about the human trade proposal.” Her lips thinned. “Treban is particularly vocal today.”

He suppressed a growl. Treban belonged to the same line as the previous alpha and never missed an opportunity to challenge his leadership. The younger male made no secret of his disdain for Seren’s more moderate approach to human relations. He’d hoped that including him in the discussions would ease his antagonism but it had only given him an additional stage for his grievances.

Five council members waited in the stone chamber carved into the mountainside. Treban paced near the far wall, his powerful frame tense with barely contained aggression. The others—Mira, Elek, Varro, and old Lena—sat on carved wooden benches arranged in a semicircle.

“You honor us with your presence, Alpha,” Treban said, the formal greeting laced with sarcasm. “We thought perhaps you’d been detained in the human village.”

He met the younger male’s challenging gaze without flinching. “I was patrolling our borders, as is my duty.”

“Interesting how your patrols so often take you to the edge of the human settlement,” Treban sneered.

“Enough,” Lena intervened, her gravelly voice cutting through the tension. “We’re here to discuss the trade alliance, not question our alpha’s movements.”

“I believe we are getting closer to an agreement,” he confirmed. “They are willing to trade grain, produce, and textiles.”

“Finnar’s mate creates cloth,” Mira pointed out, but he shook his head.

“Scarlett cannot weave enough cloth for the whole pack.”

“Furs were good enough for our ancestors,” Treban snapped, and he sighed.

“They also lived in caves and ate raw meat. Is that what you’re proposing?”

Treban scowled but didn’t respond, and Varro stepped into the silence.

“What do they want in return?”

“Protection from raiders. Help with hunting. Some of the plants that grow deep in the mountains.”

Treban scoffed. “So we become their guard dogs? Their hunting hounds?”

“We become allies,” he corrected firmly. “We would no longer have to travel to Port Cantor to trade, and we would provide items that they lack. It would be beneficial to both sides.”

Of course that was not the end of the matter. But as the discussion continued around him, he found his thoughts straying back to Elli, to the gentle way she touched her plants, to the quiet determination he sensed within her. She had a strength his people would respect, if they could look past the fact that she was human. A strength she would need to withstand the fierce storms of his world.

No,he reminded himself sharply. Those thoughts were dangerous. They had no place in his world or his future.

CHAPTER 3

Elli tucked her market basket over her arm and slipped out the back gate before her aunt could add to her already lengthy list of errands. The morning air was still pleasantly cool as she walked down the quiet street towards the center of the village.

Not for the first time, her mind drifted to Seren. The memory of his appearance still sent a thrill through her. Not fear, but something warmer, more curious. He was so big and powerful, but his size made her feel safe rather than intimidated, and his eyes had held such unexpected gentleness.

The timber and stone buildings clustered around the central square came into view, and she straightened her shoulders, tucking a stray wisp of hair back into her severe knot.

“Morning, Mrs. Hendry,” she called to the miller’s wife, who was sweeping the step outside her shop.

The woman’s pleasant expression faltered. “Oh. It’s you, Elli.” She continued sweeping, her eyes fixed on the ground. “We’ve only cornmeal left.”

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