23. Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Three
Turner
Turner wandered around the dark and snowy woods.
It was silent, save for a distant owl hooting and the rhythmic crunch of his boots as he walked.
He was ostensibly looking for some downed branches to bring back and use as firewood, but he was in no rush to return to the group.
He had no idea how long they would be waiting for Xena to return, so, for now, he was enjoying his solitude.
It was a cold, clear night—beautiful, really.
The crisp air filled his lungs, and he felt an energy in the forest—a wildness almost—that made him feel alive, so he kept walking.
He did, eventually, come upon a downed tree with a multitude of branches to break for firewood, so he reluctantly started doing that so he’d have something to bring back when he was done wandering.
He grabbed the branches in his hands, snapping them one by one with ease. The cracks rang out through the quiet forest, keeping him focused and unaware of his surroundings until—
A footstep.
Then another.
He looked around to see who it was, and his heart and stomach simultaneously flipped when he caught sight of her.
Xena.
She was walking swiftly away from him, her black hair blowing through the wind as she made her way back towards the lake.
He couldn’t say why he did it—it was like an instinct, something beyond him drawing him to her—but he followed her, dropping the wood in his arms as he went.
He followed her at a distance through the forest, but then, at the edge where it emerged onto the rim of the lake, he lost sight of her. She suddenly seemed to disappear like smoke on the wind.
Where the fuck did she go?
Then he noticed that ahead of him was a small, almost nonexistent trail. It led down a steep slope to the water’s edge. Maybe she went down to the water?
He told himself he just wanted to check on her, to make sure she was doing alright, but in reality…he just wanted to see her again. So he followed it.
He scrambled down the slope, approaching the slim beach where the lake met the shore, but there was still no sign of her.
Then he heard a breath from behind him.
He whipped around, half worried somebody else had come to get him, only to see Xena standing there in the light of the moon, her one green eye glowing like a beacon in the night. And then he looked down…
She was completely nude, her hair and body wet and dripping, as if she’d just been for a swim. Turner couldn’t help it—he drank her in.
Her body was slim but strong, and he could see the evidence of her huntress’s prowess in every line of muscle.
Her hair was long and straight down her front, almost covering her small and perky breasts, her rose-pink areolas so delicate against her pale skin.
Turner’s eyes were glued to them—staring like they held some sort of answer to the mystery of life—until he suddenly realized what he was doing and frantically looked away in embarrassment.
He brought his gaze back up to her eyes—telling himself under no circumstances should he look lower again—but what he saw in them sent a shiver down his spine.
She looked feral as shit. It was obvious she was still high from the human blood, and there was no evidence that she’d Changed yet.
Turner noticed her wet skin was covered in goosebumps—she had to be getting cold.
Should he offer her his coat? He wanted to approach her, but something about her seemed… dangerous right now, and he hesitated.
“Xena, are you alright?” Turner asked her as she stared at him—a predator stalking its prey. She seemed to have no shame for her nudity or awareness of her coldness at all.
She smiled at him—wide and teeth-filled. “Yes,” she said, the seductive timbre of her voice sending another shiver through his body.
“Okay, good,” Turner said, trying to keep a calm tone. “Do you…want to put some clothes back on?”
She laughed at him, tilting her head back in glee, as if him simply speaking delighted her. “I have no idea,” she said, prowling towards him.
Within seconds, she was in front of him—a little too close for comfort, honestly, considering her nudity. Turner could feel her breath on his cheeks as she looked up at him with her mesmerizing eyes, and he became acutely aware of his cock.
“You are so…” she whispered, then she inhaled deeply of his scent, her eyes fluttering closed. Did stryx have heightened senses of smell? Or was it just the human blood making her act strangely? Either way, at this moment, he didn’t know if he was terrified of her, or incredibly turned on, or both.
“So what?” he asked quietly, a nervous smile playing across his face.
She opened her eyes suddenly, looking deep into his own. “Pure,” she purred. Her pupils—or what he could see of them in her one green eye—were blown so wide, like she was on allucinae.
He huffed a small laugh at her description of him and her very obvious state. “Oh yeah?” he asked. “That’s a new one.” He’d been described as innocent, childlike, kind, friendly, soft—but never pure. “But I swear, I’m not as ‘pure’ as I look,” he said, winking. “I’m still a daemon.”
“A daemon…yes,” she said, standing up on her tippy toes and splaying her hands across his chest.
Turner took a step back, and found himself trapped between the water and this gorgeous, hallucinating stryx woman.
“I find you so very…interesting,” she said, enunciating the last word like she’d never said it before in her life.
“Me?” Turner asked, his eyebrows jumping up. His heart was beating faster now as she pressed her naked body up against his. He was wearing several layers of furs to mitigate the cold, but Xena’s hands began to wander as she undid his coat.
“What are you—?” Turner asked.
“I wish to feel you against me,” she said. “Feel the heat of you. You can do this, no?”
“I, uh, you mean, my Power?” he asked as she started clawing at his layers of clothing, sliding them off his shoulders. “Yeah, I suppose…yes. Are you cold?”
He’d never had anyone request his Power before; he’d only ever used it to start fires and destroy things—certainly not to warm someone. And that’s what she wanted…right? She did look cold, after being in the water. It would be rude not to.
He didn’t exactly know what was going on, but Iblis damn him, he didn’t fight her either when she removed the final layers on his upper body, leaving him bare-chested with his nipples hard as iron in the cold air.
“Xena,” he said hurriedly, suddenly having second thoughts. Was this appropriate? He figured probably not, but then she squished her body up against his—bare chest to bare chest—and leaned her head against him, and all thoughts flew out of his head.
Her skin felt like magic against his—smooth and chilled from the night air. He was filled with a deep urge to wrap his arms around her and pull her closer into him, but hesitated.
“Put your arms around me and warm me,” she demanded, her tone brooking no argument.
Fuck. Okay, if she said so.
He placed his arms around her, pulling her closer as he summoned his Power from within.
He focused on concentrating it within his chest and arms—which took some effort.
He was adept at concentrating the excess heat his body generated in his hands—that was most common for him—but he didn’t often need it concentrated anywhere else.
He felt the warmth start to build as his body generated it. He had to focus on not getting too hot—he didn’t want to burn her—but he could tell when he’d conjured a good amount of warmth, because suddenly, Xena let out a deep, contented sigh.
“Mmm,” she said, pressing herself even closer and sinking into him. “Good daemon.”
The way she spoke sent some of his heat unintentionally lower, and he felt his cock start to rise under his pants.
Mercifully, he was still wearing his bottoms, and he prayed she wouldn’t notice.
This was awkward enough, and he had no idea if what they were doing was some weird stryx custom he didn’t yet know of, or just her strange behavior from drinking human blood, or something… else between them.
He stopped that line of thinking in its tracks.
There couldn’t be “something else” between them.
She was stryx. He was a daemon. Different peoples.
Different…everything. And not to mention, she was his cousin’s sister.
They weren’t related by blood, but still…
it felt like a violation somehow. He had no idea how Ty would feel about it, and inevitably, when things didn’t work out, he wouldn’t want things to be awkward for Ty and—
Okay, he was getting way ahead of himself now. He didn’t even know if she was into him like that. It was best to stop things before they went too far.
He was about to let her go and pull away when, suddenly, the owl he’d heard earlier when he was walking let out a call—its voice mournful and haunting as it echoed through the quiet night—and Xena whipped her head towards it.
She looked for it, as if it had called her by name, seeming both confused and surprised as she tried to discern where it came from.
“Xena, are you okay?” Turner asked as she pulled away from him. He reached out a hand towards her to steady her, when she doubled over.
“Aaarghh,” she cried out in pain.
Something was hurting her, something was…
The Change.
Xena cried out again—her voice strained as whatever was happening internally made her fall to her knees. Then, before his very eyes, her arms began to shrink. The skin along her forearms split in two, peeling back to reveal tiny quills, which sprouted out furiously.
She cried out again—nearly screaming as her skin became dotted with the quills which quickly turned into pure-white vanes.
Feathers.
The hair on her head sloughed off onto the ground as the skin on her head split, and more feathers sprouted from her head, covering her face.
Her eyes underneath had changed shape, the new ones big and round, and her mouth had hardened into a lethally sharp beak.
Her feet curled into talons, and her wings—she had wings now—stretched out as she pushed the last remnants of her old self off of her, the bloody mess falling to the ground at her feet.
And just like that, the human form of Xena before him was replaced by that of an ethereal snowy owl.
Turner stared at it, too shocked to move. He’d seen some of the stryx change before, but he hadn’t gotten used to it. It was brutal and messy and so impossibly mind-boggling each time, he still couldn’t quite believe it had happened.
The owl—Xena—stared back at him. It had one dark eye and one green eye, just like her human form.
“Xena,” Turner said breathlessly, his heart pounding. “Are you alright? You—you Changed.”
Did she understand him? Max had understood Kaya when he’d been in his Change form, but he wasn’t sure how it worked.
The bird before him stared for a few seconds before letting out a loud call—like a response to the one they’d heard just moments ago. Without another glance, the owl opened her wings and pushed off—taking flight into the treetops—and just like that, she was gone.
Turner was left staring after her like an awestruck man witnessing birth for the first time. Had that really just happened?
It took him several seconds to gather himself, and he realized he was still shirtless in the middle of the cold night air, so he gathered his clothes back up and put them on. Not knowing what else to do, he headed back to camp.
He didn’t exactly know what to say to everyone when he returned. Should he tell them all he saw her Change, and everything that had happened before that?
No, no, he definitely should not tell them that. But he would tell them he’d seen her Change, so they wouldn’t worry. And then, he guessed, they’d continue waiting patiently for her return.
And despite himself, he knew he would be waiting for it with bated breath.