Page 20 of Cursed Alien

As they ate in the firelit kitchen, Malrik found himself caught between two worlds—the primal existence of his beast and the civilized life he once knew. And for the first time since his transformation, he wasn’t sure which one he preferred.

CHAPTER10

Bella watched Malrik from under her lashes, fascinated by the contrast between his ferocious appearance and his unexpected courtesies. He tore into his portion of rabbit with primitive fervor, those deadly claws making quick work of the meat, yet minutes earlier he’d pulled out her chair with a formal gesture that seemed ingrained rather than learned.

The firelight played across his features, highlighting the powerful curve of his jaw and the intensity in his eyes. His fur looked soft in this light, the dark silver taking on amber highlights. and she caught herself wondering what it would feel like beneath her fingers. Every so often, as she chatted about her progress with the repairs, his face seemed to flicker—a momentary shift towards something more humanoid before returning to beast form.

“I think I can get the main power conduits working tomorrow,” she said, keeping her tone cheerful and conversational. “The connections aren’t as damaged as I thought. Whoever designed this place built it to last.”

He grunted in response, but his eyes remained fixed on her.

“Did you design it?” she asked, remembering how he’d seemed to know every corner of the keep.

“Mine,” he growled, then paused as if searching for words. “Built for… me.”

“This entire place was built for you? It seems awfully big for one… person. All this space, the grand rooms—you must have been important.”

He looked away, something like shame crossing his features.

“Pride,” he muttered, the word sounding rusty, as if it had been long unused.

How had someone so powerful and wealthy become the male he was today?

“Even with all the tech, you must have had an army of servants. Didn’t any of them stay?”

He paused mid-bite, yellow eyes flashing with something unreadable. A low rumble emanated from his chest before he repeated, “Mine.”

“I understood that part,” she said dryly. “When did you build it?”

His features seemed to flicker again before he answered.

“Long… ago,” he growled, then shook his massive head as if to clear it.

“It must have been magnificent,” she said softly, looking around at what remained of the grand kitchen. Even covered in dust and decay, the scale and craftsmanship were impressive. “I’d love to see it restored someday.”

Something in his posture shifted—a slight straightening of his shoulders, a lifting of his head. Pride, perhaps? But it vanished as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by the wary tension that seemed to be his default state.

“I’ve been thinking about what systems to prioritize,” she continued, sensing his discomfort with the previous topic. “Power is obviously critical, but we should also get the water filtration working properly. I noticed some of the pipes are corroded.”

He grunted in what she took for agreement.

“And maybe some basic communications? I don’t know if any of that infrastructure still exists, but?—”

“No,” he interrupted sharply. “No… signals. No others.”

She held up her hands in a placating gesture. “Okay, no communications. Got it.” She filed his reaction away for future consideration. Why was he so adamant about isolation?

As they continued eating, night fell completely outside the windows. The kitchen grew darker until the only illumination came from the hearth fire, casting everything in flickering orange light and deep shadow.

She squinted at her plate, barely able to make out what remained of her meal. “Do you have any candles? Or working lights? It’s getting hard to see in here.”

He shook his head, the firelight reflecting in his eyes like twin yellow flames. Of course, she realized. With those eyes, he probably had excellent night vision. She’d need to add lighting to her growing list of repairs.

She leaned back in her chair with a tired sigh. The day’s events were catching up with her—the worry about her father, the shock of finding him imprisoned, the bargain she’d struck, and the subsequent discoveries about her unusual host. Her muscles ached from both the journey and crawling around in the control room, and her skin felt gritty with dust and sweat.

“I don’t suppose you have a bath?” she joked, running a hand through her dust-streaked hair. “I must look a fright after crawling around those control panels.”

His eyes glowed as he studied her and she felt the warmth rising to her cheeks. Then to her surprise, he nodded and rose from his seat, gesturing for her to follow. He moved toward the doorway, his massive body blending with the shadows.

---