Page 42 of Cursed Alien

The sensation was overwhelming—tight heat enveloping him, her body yielding to his invasion even as it clung to him, drawing him deeper. He stilled, giving her time to adjust, fighting the beast’s urge to rut mindlessly.

Her nails dug into his shoulders, not to push him away but to pull him closer. “Don’t stop,” she gasped.

Permission granted, he began to move. Slowly at first, then with increasing urgency as her body responded to his. Each thrust drove him deeper, not just into her body but into a connection that transcended the physical.

The beast howled its approval, but for once, it didn’t fight for control. Instead, it seemed content to share in the pleasure, to bask in the rightness of their joining.

He felt himself shifting again, fur sprouting along his spine, claws extending from his fingertips. But she didn’t recoil. Instead, she wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him on, accepting all of him.

Her hands moved restlessly over his back, tracing the boundary where fur gave way to skin. When she arched up to press her lips to his throat, he felt the vibration of his own growl against her mouth.

“Mine,” he growled again, the word clearer than before despite the fangs that had extended in his mouth.

“Yours,” she agreed breathlessly. “And you’re mine.”

The claim, so boldly stated, sent a shock of pleasure through him. Yes, he was hers. Had been from the moment he’d caught her scent. Would be until his last breath.

He increased his pace, driven by the need to make her his in every way possible. Her body tightened around him, her breathing becoming more erratic. She was close. He could smell it in the change of her scent, see it in the flush that spread across her skin.

“Let go,” he urged, his voice a mixture of beast’s growl and Vultor’s command. “Let go for me, Bella.”

The sound of her name seemed to push her over the edge. She cried out, her body convulsing around him as pleasure claimed her. The sight of her—head thrown back, eyes closed in ecstasy, his name on her lips—was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

His own release followed swiftly, tearing through him with an intensity that bordered on pain. He roared as he emptied himself inside her, marking her as his in the most primal way possible, but mindful of her untried body, he forced himself to pull free before his knot expanded.

For a moment, he hovered over her, arms trembling with the effort of holding himself up. Then, carefully, he rolled to the side, bringing her with him so that she lay sprawled across his chest.

They lay in silence, their breathing gradually slowing. He stroked her hair, marveling at its softness between his fingers—fingers that were once again more claw than hand. The transformation was reversing, the beast reclaiming territory. But for the first time, he didn’t fight it. The beast was part of him now, and Bella had accepted both.

“Bella,” he whispered, her name like a prayer on his lips.

She raised her head, her eyes meeting his. In them, he saw not just the afterglow of physical pleasure but something deeper, something that made his chest tighten with an emotion he hadn’t felt in so long he barely recognized it.

Hope.

“I’m here,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to his chest, directly over his heart. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The beast purred its satisfaction, but it was Malrik who tightened his arms around her, holding her close as if she might disappear. For the first time since the curse had taken hold, he felt something like peace.

“Mine,” he whispered one last time, the word no longer a claim of possession but a promise of protection. Of devotion.

As sleep claimed him, one final thought drifted through his mind: For the first time in longer than he could remember, he was not alone.

CHAPTER20

Bella woke to the familiar weight of Malrik’s arm draped across her waist. Sunlight streamed through the windows, painting the stone walls with golden light. She shifted slightly, careful not to disturb him, and glanced down at the arm holding her close. Thick grey fur covered it once more, the sharp claws now fully extended in sleep.

It didn’t bother her. Not even a little.

She traced her fingers lightly over the fur, feeling the powerful muscles beneath. The contrast between his strength and the gentleness with which he held her made her heart swell.

I love him in any form, she thought, then froze as the realization hit her fully. Love. She loved him. This creature who was both beast and man, who had terrified her at first meeting and now made her feel safer than she’d ever felt before.

She loved his fierce protectiveness, his unexpected gentleness, the way he looked at her as though she were the most precious thing in his world. She even loved his gruff, demanding ways—how he’d growl orders at her one moment, then present her with flowers the next.

But as quickly as the happiness came, worry crept in to replace it.

What about her father? She’d expected him to return once he’d recovered, but there had been no sign of him. What if he was still sick? The wagon should have taken him straight to Agatha’s, but what if something had gone wrong? And even if he was fine, what would he do without her? They’d been a team since her mother died, just the two of them against the world.

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