Cursed Alien: An Alien Shifter Romance (Alien Wolf Tales) by Honey Phillips

Author:Honey Phillips [Phillips, Honey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2025-05-21T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 15

Malrik’s beast surged with satisfaction as Bella’s lips parted beneath his. The kiss deepened, her taste intoxicating—sweet with a hint of the wild berries they’d found in the garden. His arms tightened around her, claws retracting instinctively to avoid hurting her delicate skin.

The rational part of his mind—growing stronger each day—flashed a warning. Too much. Too fast. She’s human. She’s afraid.

But her body told a different story. Her hands slid up his chest, fingers curling into the fur that was rapidly receding as his Vultor form emerged. She wasn’t pulling away. She was pulling him closer.

The warning voice in his head grew fainter with each passing second. Why should he stop? The female in his arms was soft and sweet and willing.

Willing.

That thought penetrated the haze of desire. How could she be willing? How could someone like her want someone—something—like him?

He wrenched himself back, chest heaving. His beast howled in protest, but he held firm, searching her face for signs of fear or revulsion.

Instead, she smiled up at him with kiss-swollen lips, cheeks flushed and eyes bright.

“We should celebrate,” she said, her voice slightly breathless. “The garden, the cleaning robot, the POTTS… we’ve accomplished so much.”

She traced a finger along his jaw, her touch feather-light against his skin—not fur, he realized with a jolt. More of his Vultor form had emerged during their kiss.

“I’ll program the POTTS for a special dinner,” she continued. “Something better than the basic meals we’ve been having.”

Her enthusiasm was infectious, but he couldn’t form the words to respond. He nodded instead, and she rose on her tiptoes to press another quick kiss to his lips, then slipped from his grasp and headed back towards the keep.

He watched her go, fighting the urge to follow. His beast whined in protest at the increasing distance between them, but he forced himself to remain in the garden. He’d spent days shadowing her, never letting her stray far. But this time, he forced himself to let her go. She wasn’t running. She’d be there when he returned.

In the meantime, there was more work to be done here, and he needed the physical exertion to clear his head. He attacked a particularly stubborn section of overgrowth, tearing out dead vines and clearing space for new growth. The physical exertion helped calm his racing thoughts, though her taste lingered on his lips.

As the afternoon wore on, he found himself thinking of her with increasing frequency. The way her eyes lit up when she solved a problem. The musical sound of her laughter. The feel of her body pressed against his.

When the sun began to set, he returned to the keep, his thoughts still consumed by her. He made his way back to his chambers, shedding dirt and sweat under the same hot spring water that fed his bathing pool. As he scrubbed his skin—more skin than fur today, he noted with surprise—his thoughts turned to her again.

The way she looked at him had changed. At first, there had been fear, then curiosity.

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