Page 14 of Cursed Alien

“Higher ceilings. More grandeur. I want every Vultor who enters to feel my power.”

“But Lord Malrik, the others have chosen simpler dwellings. They say we should adapt to Cresca, not?—”

“The others lack vision. Build it as I command.”

The memory vanished as quickly as it had come, leaving him disoriented. He flexed his claws, watching them extend and retract as he fought to hold onto the thought.

When she discovered the grand staircase—its sweeping curve designed to impress visitors as they ascended to the upper levels—another memory surfaced. He had commissioned artisans to carve the stone balustrades with scenes of Vultor history. The work had taken months, and he had paid handsomely for it.

“Such extravagance,”a voice had chided.“While your people struggle to establish themselves on this new world.”

His people. Yes, he had responsibilities to them, hadn’t he? Responsibilities he had neglected in favor of… what? The memory slipped away before he could grasp it.

She ran her hand along the intricate carvings, studying the scenes depicted. “These tell a story,” she said softly. “A journey… a war… and then coming here, to Cresca.”

She was clever, this human female.

“Someone had quite the ego,” she added, and he growled softly. Had he truly been so vain?

She continued her exploration, pushing open a set of massive double doors. They creaked in protest, but opened to reveal a vast, empty ballroom. Grey light streamed through tall windows, illuminating the inlaid floor and the remains of crystal chandeliers that had crashed to the ground long ago. Though many of the windows were now cracked or broken, enough remained to showcase the breathtaking view. The wooden floor, once polished to a high shine, was now warped and stained from years of exposure to the elements.

She stepped inside, her footsteps echoing. “This is incredible.”

He hesitated at the threshold. This room held… something. Something he didn’t want to remember.

She walked to the center of the space, turning slowly to take it all in. “What was this place? Some kind of gathering hall?”

Females lined up before him, one after another. Each dressed in elaborate finery, each hoping to catch his eye. A succession of potential mates, brought to his fortress to be inspected, evaluated, chosen or rejected.

And he had rejected them all.

“You cannot continue this way, Malrik,”the voice—his advisor, his friend—had warned.“The elders grow impatient. You must choose a mate, strengthen the bloodlines.”

“None are worthy,”he had replied dismissively. “I will not bind myself to one who does not meet my standards.”

“Your standards or your pride? The curse?—”

“Do not speak to me of superstitions! I am Malrik, son of?—”

The memory fractured, slipping away before he could grasp its full meaning. Frustration boiled up inside him, and a growl rumbled from deep in his chest.

She spun around, peering into the shadows where he lurked.

“I know you’re there,” she said firmly. “Show yourself. If we’re going to be stuck together while I fix your tech, the least you can do is stop skulking around.”

He remained motionless. The beast wanted to retreat, to watch from safety. The rational side…

“I said show yourself.” She planted her hands on her hips. “I’m not afraid of you.”

She was lying. He could smell the sharp tang of fear beneath her bravado. But there was something else too—curiosity.

He stepped forward, allowing the dim light to illuminate his massive form. Eight feet of corded muscle and dark silver fur etched with scars. Fangs that could tear through flesh. Claws that could rend metal.

She inhaled sharply but held her ground.

“There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Her voice had the slightest tremor.

He tilted his head, studying her. Most humans would have fled screaming by now. She was… unusual.

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