Page 44 of Cursed Alien

“You’re worried,” she observed, pulling her hair back and securing it with a strip of cloth.

“Humans fear beast,” he said simply. “Vultor… remember Malrik. Neither good.”

She crossed back to the bed and took his face between her hands, forcing him to look at her. “I don’t care what anyone else thinks. You’re mine, and I’m yours. That’s all that matters.”

Something fierce and possessive flashed in his eyes at her words. “Mine,” he agreed, his voice dropping to a growl.

“And I’m not ashamed of you,” she continued firmly. “Not of any part of you. Beast or Vultor or whatever’s in between. I?—”

She hesitated, almost afraid to say it out loud and he went very still. Before she could gather the courage, his arms were around her, pulling her against his chest with such force that it knocked the breath from her lungs.

“Bella,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “My Bella.”

She wasn’t sure if it was a declaration of love, but she felt it all the same—in the tremor that ran through his powerful body, in the careful way his claws avoided scratching her, in the way he pressed his face to her hair and breathed her name like a prayer.

When he finally released her, there was a new determination in his eyes. “We go,” he said firmly. “Find father. Then return home.”

Home. The word sent a wave of warmth through her. This crumbling keep with its broken tech and overgrown gardens had become home to her, in a way the village never had. Because he was here.

“I’ll pack some food,” she said, her practical nature reasserting itself. “And we should bring water. Do you know the way to Agatha’s from here?”

He nodded. “Through woods. Avoid main paths.”

“Good plan,” she agreed, heading toward the door. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen in a few minutes.”

She packed dried meat and fruit from the POTTS, filled water containers, and added the small medical kit she’d assembled from supplies found in the keep. Better to be prepared for anything.

When she returned to the kitchen, Malrik was waiting. He’d dressed in what remained of his clothes from the night before—the pants torn but wearable, the vest abandoned as unsalvageable. He’d found a cloak, which he’d draped over his shoulders, the hood pulled up to shadow his face.

“Ready?” she asked, shouldering her pack.

He nodded once, then moved to take the pack from her. “I carry.”

She relinquished it without argument, knowing it would make him feel better to help. “Lead the way.”

As they stepped outside into the bright morning light, she felt a strange mix of excitement and apprehension. This journey would be their first real test as a couple—facing the outside world together.

She glanced up at Malrik, noting the tension in his shoulders, the wary way he scanned their surroundings. Reaching out, she slipped her hand into his, feeling his claws carefully retract as his fingers closed around hers.

“Together,” she said softly.

He looked down at her, his yellow eyes glowing beneath the hood of his cloak. “Together,” he agreed.

And with that, they set off into the forest, leaving the safety of the keep behind.

He had suggested that they take the forest path rather than the road, preferring the concealment it offered, and she hadn’t objected. The path was narrow and winding, clearly not meant for regular travel. Malrik moved with silent grace despite his size, while she had to watch her footing on the uneven ground. He kept her close, occasionally lifting her over fallen logs or guiding her around thorny patches.

“How far is it to Agatha’s?” she asked after they’d been walking for about an hour.

“Half day,” he replied, his head constantly swiveling as he monitored their surroundings. “If no trouble.”

She squeezed his hand reassuringly. “We’ll be fine. And it’ll be worth it to know my father is okay.”

He glanced down at her, his expression softening slightly. “He is… good father?”

“The best,” she said without hesitation. “After my mother died, he raised me on his own. Taught me everything he knew about mechanics, never once told me I couldn’t do something because I was a girl.” She smiled at the memories. “He used to say that my mother would have been so proud of my clever hands.”

Malrik was quiet for a moment, absorbing this. “You miss him,” he finally said. It wasn’t a question.