Page 6 of Snowed in: With the Alien Tentacle Monster

Valen immediately let the borrowed form dissolve, returning to his natural state of swirling energy before solidifying back into his previous azure-skinned shape. His tentacles curled protectively around himself, responding to his mate's distress even as he struggled to understand it.

Logan had pressed himself against the headboard, eyes squeezed shut, hands clenched into white-knuckled fists in the bedsheet.

"I'm sorry," Valen whispered in Logan's language, the words clumsy on his tongue. He wanted desperately to reach out, tocomfort, to understand, but the raw pain still radiating from his mate kept him frozen in place. "Sorry."

When Logan finally opened his eyes, they were bright with unshed tears. He stared at Valen for a long moment, his jaw working as if trying to form words. Finally, he managed a rough whisper: "Just... stay in your own form. Please."

Valen nodded. Logan's language was still strange to him, but it wasn't hard to puzzle out what he wanted. Valen had meant to comfort, to please, but had somehow caused pain instead. The urge to touch, to reestablish their mental connection and understand what had gone wrong, was almost overwhelming. But he forced himself to remain still, giving Logan the space he seemed to need.

He should go and check on his spacecraft. With a little bit of luck, it had sent out a distress call last night. If his family received it, they would be here soon, and they would help him fix this mess he’d created.

Logan watched as the monster—Valen—left out the same door he'd come in through last night.

Real. This was real.

He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, trying to block out the image of Jeff's face morphing out of that strange light. Even now, his chest ached from the shock of it. He'd thought he was doing fine, and then along came thisthingand shattered his composure in an instant. And Valen didn't even know what he'd done, did he?

A wave of... something... washed over him. Not his own emotions, but a distant echo of concern and regret that had to be coming from Valen.

What was he doing out there?

And would he return?

"Get it together," Logan muttered, forcing himself to sit up. His body protested, muscles sore in ways he'd forgotten were possible.

The familiar routine of getting dressed helped steady his nerves, though he also had to throw away the clothes he'd worn yesterday, and his body ached in a way that shouldn't have been pleasant, yet somehow was.

That strange echo of emotion washed over him again, stronger this time. Distress. Frustration. They weren't his feelings, but they pulled at something inside him, urging him to... what? Go after the monster who'd turned his world upside down?

"Not happening," he said firmly to his empty bedroom, but even as the words left his mouth, he found himself moving toward the window. Through the glass, he could see a faint trail in the snow leading into the woods. Toward where he'd seen that strange pod last night.

The smart thing would be to let Valen go. Return to his quiet life. Pretend this had all been some elaborate dream brought on by grief and loneliness.

Hell, the smart thing might even be to jump in his car and get back to the city, but it had been snowing the past few days, and he doubted that the roads had been cleared yet.

Ordinarily, Logan liked it this way, being cut off from the rest of the world.

Right now, it meant he had to deal with this creature by himself.

He reached for his boots.

The cold morning air bit at his face as he stepped outside. He hesitated on the porch, scanning the tree line.

Another wave of foreign emotion hit him, stronger now that he was outside. Panic? No, more like urgent concern. Logan's feet started moving before his brain could catch up, following the trail into the woods.

What was he doing? He should be calling... someone. The police? The military? NASA? Instead, he was trudging through knee-deep snow after the thing that had broken into his cabin and…

Don't, he told himself firmly.Don't think about last night.

But his body remembered. Even now, there was a lingering warmth where Valen had touched him, like phantom fingerprints – or tentacle prints – branded into his skin. And that pull in his chest, drawing him forward...

He crested a small rise and stopped short. Below him lay the impact site from last night, the snow melted in a wide circle around a sleek, tear drop-shaped vessel. Valen hovered near it, examining what appeared to be a damaged panel.

This was a space ship, wasn't it?

And Valen the alien that had spilled out of it.

"Fuck…" Logan muttered to himself.

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