Page 66 of The Arcane God

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.