Page 47 of Cursed Alien

The simple statement washed over him like a balm, soothing both beast and Vultor. He leaned into her touch, savoring the connection.

“Are you worried about meeting Seren?” she added.

He considered the question, searching for words to express the chaos within him. “Uncertain,” he finally said. “Seren… powerful. Respected.”

She nodded thoughtfully.

“He’s the one who’s been negotiating a trade alliance with the mayor, although I heard something happened at the bonding ceremony. Do you think he’s dangerous?”

“Perhaps.” He frowned, trying to piece together memories of the stern warrior. “Fair, though. Honorable.”

“Then he’ll listen to us,” she said with a confidence he couldn’t share. “Two of my friends have Vultor mates and he supported their relationships. I’m sure he’ll support us as well.”

He wished he could believe it would be so simple. He’d never heard of a cursed male returning to his pack, let alone one bonded to a human female. It would challenge everything they believed about their kind.

Yet as they continued toward Agatha’s dwelling, a strange sense of possibility began to take root alongside his fear. For the first time since his transformation, he allowed himself to imagine a future beyond his isolated existence—a future where he might walk among his kind again, Bella at his side.

The thought was both terrifying and exhilarating and despite his doubts, he found himself smiling as they continued through the forest.

CHAPTER22

Bella’s heart pounded as they approached Agatha’s cottage. The half-timbered building was perched at the edge of Vultor territory, surrounded by a lush garden overflowing with flowers and herbs. It looked exactly the way she remembered it, but everything else felt different. She was different.

She glanced at Malrik, who’d shifted more toward his Vultor form as they neared the edge of forest though his eyes still glowed faintly and his movements retained his usual predatory grace. He paused for a moment, nostrils flaring as he scanned their surroundings.

“It’s safe,” she assured him, squeezing his hand. “Agatha’s place is private. No one will see us here.”

He gave a terse nod but the tension in his body didn’t ease. “I smell him. Your father. He’s inside.”

She couldn’t suppress the wave of relief that washed through her. “Is he… can you tell if he’s well?”

His nostril flared and he tilted his head, considering. “Alive. Weak. Not dying.”

Not the most reassuring assessment, but better than the alternatives. Her steps slowed as she approached the door, suddenly nervous. What would her father think of her now? Of her choices? Of Malrik?

Before she could knock, the door swung open. Agatha stood there, silver hair pulled back in a practical bun. Her eyes traveled from Bella to Malrik, and then a broad smile crossed her face.

“Well,” she said after a moment. “You certainly don’t waste time, do you, girl?”

She blinked. “I… what?”

Agatha ignored the question and waved them in. “Come, come. Standing on my doorstep for all to see. In you go.”

Malrik ducked to enter the low doorway, his massive body making the cottage seem suddenly tiny. He stood awkwardly in the center of the main room, clearly uncomfortable with the confined space.

“Father?” she called, moving toward the back bedroom.

“Bella?” Her father’s voice, weaker than she remembered but undeniably his, sent another wave of relief through her. “Bella, is that you?”

She rushed into the bedroom to find her father propped up on pillows, his face pale but his eyes clear. He looked thinner, frailer, but his smile when he saw her was as bright as ever.

“You’re safe,” he breathed, reaching for her with trembling hands.

She crossed to him in three quick strides, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his shoulder. The familiar scent of machine oil mixed with Agatha’s herbs. He felt smaller in her embrace, but his arms tightened around her with reassuring strength.

“I was so worried,” he murmured against her hair.

“I’m fine, Papa,” she assured him, pulling back to look at him properly. “Better than fine, actually. I?—”

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