3. Rowan
Rowan
The stranger’s chest rose and fell softly beneath a dark blue knitted blanket, illuminated by the amber glow of the fireplace. He probably needed a hospital. I would have taken him there… had he been human.
I wasn’t sure what I was looking at, or where he’d come from.
I’d mentally prepared myself for whatever waited for me in the storm, or so I’d thought. But I never could have anticipated meeting someone else out there. And certainly not a someone like this.
A beautiful stranger, naked and bleeding. With soft white hair and pure black eyes. Those large eyes had locked with mine, panic filled, but only for a moment.
“I’ve got you,” I’d said.
He’d smiled. Then his body had gone limp in my arms, his head flopping back as he lost consciousness.
Getting us out of that storm hadn’t been easy. The weather on its own had been set to drown us. But the stranger had also brought company.
It wasn’t unheard of to see orcas in our waters, but it wasn’t common.
We’d been followed, one of them bumping the boat occasionally and almost sending us overboard. Then we’d crossed into the harbor and the city lights in the distance had offered us safety. Like magic, they’d all disappeared.
Once I had my boat docked, I’d carried him onto land, able to look at him truly now that we were out of the worst of the danger.
His ears were pointed at the tips, his fingertips and toes dark gray blending to pale pink.
I was fairly certain he was male, and it wasn’t that I’d tried to check, but he was naked and I’d glanced over him looking for injuries beyond the head bump.
His body was different. Not really male or female, by human standards anyway. Just… smooth. I hadn’t looked more than I’d needed to in order to be satisfied that the head wound was the only real injury. Well, that and the weird seal skin that was bleeding too.
By the time I’d laid him on the sofa, his head wound had stopped bleeding. A check through his hair revealed a nasty bump, but probably not something that needed stitches. The seal skin, though…
It was unlike anything I’d ever seen before.
It wasn’t freshly skinned, yet it was still bleeding…
still warm… almost like it was alive. Not knowing exactly what else to do with it, I’d fetched my first aid kit…
and I’d stitched it up. I was no medical professional, but I didn’t think I could take the pelt to a vet.
Then I’d put it by the fire to dry.
I didn’t know what else to do. If the stranger woke and whatever he was ended up being dangerous and attacking me… well, that was that. Though I hoped I hadn’t put anyone else in the town in danger by bringing him here.
The rim of my glass hovered over my bottom lip before I downed the harsh amber liquid. What a fucking night.
By the time the storm passed and the dark clouds cleared, it must have been late morning. I still hadn’t moved. I stayed perched in a dining chair by the fire, watching.
My clothes were dry now, and although they itched at my skin, I didn’t want to leave him for even a moment in case he woke up while I wasn’t here. I needed to be here.
Please wake up.
Large black eyes opened as if he’d heard my thoughts. I couldn’t breathe.
For a moment, we just stared at each other. Then he jolted upright, looking around frantically until his dark eyes landed on where the seal pelt was hanging off the back of another chair.
I reached toward it, planning to hand it to him, but his upper lip pulled up in a silent snarl, revealing sharp canines. I raised my hands in placation instead.
“Alright,” my voice rumbled.
He stared at me. I stared back, waiting for his move.
The aggression melted away quickly, and the pure black eyes that took me in were confused, then curious. The blanket slid down his form as one foot with gray toes met the floor, then the other.
I didn’t move, scared of frightening him.
The blanket slipped away entirely, and I kept my eyes firmly fixed on his rather than the miles of creamy exposed skin.
One step closer. Another. His head tilted slightly. I inhaled a deep breath and held it in. Then those eyes finally left mine to find the seal skin again.
Fingers brushed through the fur as he picked it up, a soft sigh of relief escaping him.
“Did you do this?” a soft but masculine voice asked as gray fingertips traced over my dodgy stitchwork.
I cleared my throat. “Uhh… yes. It was umm… bleeding?” I answered and questioned at the same time.
He nodded, taking in the damage a moment longer before he tossed the skin over his shoulder, covering half his back and chest rather than his… whatever he had, and turned to face me. A wide grin split his pretty face, revealing those sharp canines again. “Thanks. I was in real trouble back there.”
Before I could question him on what he was doing out there alone, his attention had already moved on. He strolled over to the fireplace, snatching up the wooden bear ornament on the mantle. “Did you make this?”
“Uhh… no.”
“Who made it?”
“Well, I’m not sure.”
“What about this?” He tucked the bear under his arm and picked up the ceramic vase that had been beside it, tipping it upside down. The long-dead flowers tumbled to the floor as he inspected the vase.
“No.”
“You found it?”
“I bought it.”
His head tilted. “Bought it. Like a trade?”
My head spun. Did he not know what money was? “I guess—”
“Ooh…” He tucked the vase under his arm as well and snatched up a picture frame. “Wow. Is this a painting?”
“It’s a photograph.”
“What’s a photograph?”
“It’s… well… that.”
Under the arm it went. Then he brushed his fingertips over the wooden surface, collecting dust and rubbing it between his fingers.
I flushed, suddenly regretting the fact that I hadn’t been bothered to clean it lately.
He said nothing about it and simply moved to the next surface to start touching things.
Exasperated, I left him to it, slouching back in my chair as he went through all my belongings, until his arms were full and he returned to the sofa to lay out what he’d found on the blanket, carefully arranging them in a way only he seemed to understand. Then he continued searching for more.
I sighed as he opened the door to my bedroom and didn’t hesitate to stroll right in. Clearly, wherever he came from, personal space and privacy weren’t common. Wasn’t like I had anything worth hiding or stealing anyway. Unless he went rifling through the nightstand drawer… and he probably would.
I grunted as I pushed to my feet to follow him.
I’d barely walked through the open bedroom door before my eyes fell on a perfectly rounded ass pointed directly at me as he knelt on the bed, his arm reaching for the items on the nightstand.
“Sorry!” I exclaimed, turning around.
“For what?” he questioned distractedly.
Behind me, I heard clinking and rattling as he roughed up my alarm clock.
“Can you just… cover up a bit?”
“Cover what?”
“Everything,” I grumbled, marching over to my dresser and pulling the top drawer open with more force than was necessary. I yanked out a knitted sweater and some sweatpants. “Here.” I held them out to him, looking away from him to hide how heated my face felt.
“Thanks.” He took them from me.
“Just… come back out to the living room. I want to talk to you.”
“You are talking to me. What’s a living room?”
“The room we were in before. And I mean… talk talk. About last night.”
“Oh. Alright.”
He grabbed the alarm clock and a pillow, along with the clothing I’d handed him, and walked back out of the bedroom in front of me, carrying them instead of putting them on.
Lord help me.