Page 42 of Alien Charming
“I ran away,” she whispered. “I just… left him there.”
Agatha set a steaming mug of tea in front of her. “And what would you have done differently, with Margaret breathing fire down your neck?”
She wrapped her fingers around the warm mug, letting the heat seep into her skin. What would she have done differently? The question hung in the air as she thought back to every moment with Seren.
She remembered his voice in the garden, deep and gentle. The way he’d listened to her—really listened—when no one else ever had. How his eyes had lit up when she’d arrived at the ceremony. The tenderness in his touch when they’d danced. The gentle way he’d held her after she came apart in his arms.
Most of all, she remembered how he’d pulled back afterwards—not in disgust or disappointment, but with such careful restraint. He was protecting her, she realized suddenly.
“I should have trusted Seren,” she said softly.
Agatha nodded, a knowing smile playing at her lips. “The Vultor mate for life, child. They don’t give their hearts lightly.”
“I shouldn’t have run,” she admitted, the truth of it settling in her chest.
“It’s not too late to fix that,” Agatha said, patting her hand. “The question is, what do you want, Elli? Not what Margaret wants, or what the village expects, or even what Seren wants. What do you want?”
She stared into her tea, watching the steam curl upwards. What did she want? No one had ever asked her that before. Her entire life had been dictated by her aunt’s demands and the village’s expectations.
“I want…” The words caught in her throat, unfamiliar and frightening. She took a deep breath and tried again. “I want to see Seren. I need to explain why I ran away.”
The moment she spoke the words aloud, a weight lifted from her chest. Yes, that was exactly what she wanted. Not just to explain, but to see him again, to be near him.
Agatha’s eyes twinkled. “Then what are you waiting for, child?”
“What if he doesn’t want to see me?” She twisted her fingers in her lap. “What if he’s angry or disappointed?”
“That male looked at you like you hung the moon and stars,” Agatha said firmly. “Trust an old woman who’s seen enough of life to recognize love when it’s standing right in front of her.”
Love. The word sent a flutter through her stomach. Could it really be possible?
“Do you know where I can find him?”
“I can show you a path that leads up to the Vultor enclave. And avoids the village entirely,” Agatha added with a smile as she guided her into the main room and opened a small chest. She pulled out a simple but well-made dress in soft green. “Here. This should fit you well enough.”
She touched the fabric reverently. “I can’t take this.”
“You can and you will.” Agatha pressed it into her hands. “No more hiding behind drab clothes and tight knots. It’s time you felt as beautiful as you truly are. Now go and change. The day isn’t getting any younger, and neither am I.”
Twenty minutes later, she stood at the edge of the woods, her heart hammering against her ribs. The dress fit perfectly,making her feel more like herself than she had in years. Agatha had packed her a small bundle of food and given her precise directions.
“Remember,” the old woman had said as she’d hugged her goodbye, “you have nothing to be ashamed of. Hold your head high.”
As she took her first steps under the canopy of trees, those words echoed in her mind. The forest welcomed her with dappled sunlight and the soft rustle of leaves. For the first time since she could remember, she felt hopeful—truly hopeful—about what lay ahead.
CHAPTER 20
Seren paced the confines of his den, each step heavy with frustration. Still no sign of Elli. The walls seemed to close in around him, the familiar space now a prison for his restless thoughts.
He paused at the stone hearth, staring into the dying embers, and his knuckles whitened as he gripped the mantle.
“Damn that female,” he growled, thinking of Margaret Jacobson’s smug face. The memory of her sanctimonious tone as she spoke of Elli’s “disgraceful behavior” made his fangs lengthen involuntarily.
Although he noticed that more than one of the villagers had given her suspicious looks after their encounter, no one had come forward with any additional information. He’d searched the village anyway, but her scent had vanished completely—as if she’d disappeared into thin air. The potion should have worn off by now. Where could she be?
He slammed his fist against the wall, barely registering the pain or the small shower of stone dust that fell to the floor.
“You’re wearing a path on the floor.”
