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Chapter Five
Xander
Rowan is dangerous.
Witches are bad news period. But a Stonecroft woman? A hundred times worse. Her aunt had been powerful as hell and head of the largest society of witches in the world. And this newcomer has that same blood running through her veins. That same magic.
I stalk down the street after nearly colliding with her, and adrenaline spikes through my veins. Her scent is still wrapped around me, jasmine and sandalwood. I can still see those eyes. Pale green like sage. Long hair as dark as night. Skin like the moon, pale and perfect.
And God damn it, my body reacts to her.
Which is a serious problem. I’m no young stud that gets turned on by anything with breasts. I’ve lived for hundreds of years. I have self-control. But something about Rowan is so intoxicating I can’t even think straight. She’s attractive, but it’s more than that. An energy. An aura about her.
But I’d made a vow all those years ago. To keep a watchful eye on the Raven Society. Destroy it if at all possible. I will erase this woman from my memory. I have to.
I’m walking so fast I hit the edge of town before I realize it. I slip into the forest and begin to run. After a mile, I shed off my clothes and shift. My inner beast is about to claw me from the inside out. It’s hot, and it’s hungry. Not for food.
I am raw heat and energy. Magic and muscle. I can feel the earth, the trees, the sky. Especially the sky. My beast longs for it, but I can’t risk flying during the day. It’ll have to wait until night falls, until midnight passes, when all the people are asleep in their beds and I can be free beneath the moon.
I would have left this damn witch-infested place decades ago if it hadn’t been for my promise. To keep watch on the witches, make sure they don’t step too far out of line. It had happened before. It could happen again. Nothing is more important than my purpose here. Even if it is like living in a viper pit.
When I reach the cabin, I go straight to the shed in the back and fire up the stone furnace. The coals glow like stars and heat washes over me, soothing the beast inside. A bit. I shift back into human form and pick up a long piece of metal I’d been working on, stick it into the bed of coals. Once the metal is red-hot, I pick up my hammer and begin to pound the metal into shape. Sparks fly all around me, landing on my bare skin, but fire can’t hurt me.
Being the town blacksmith is an easy job given my natural talents. I make a variety of things ranging from horseshoes to decorative yard art to blades, like the one I’m making now. It will be a Scottish claymore when I’m done with it. A weapon I once yielded, those centuries ago in Europe. From knight to Revolutionary soldier, once I’d crossed the Atlantic. Now I live a simpler life, out of the history books.
I hammer the metal for several minutes. Sweat forms over my body. Good thing I don’t have any neighbors to object to my metal working in the nude. With every bang of metal against metal, I force the images of Rowan from my mind. Green eyes. Perfect pink lips. Sexy curves. All gone. When I’m satisfied with my work, I slide the finished blade into a metal bucket of cool water. It hisses as the red-hot metal fades to gray. I set the blade on a rack to finish cooling, then head into the cabin to shower.
I don’t make it halfway to the door before she’s back in my head again.
With a growl, I open the door and then slam it behind me. I will conquer this. I made a promise, a vow.
And I don’t break my vows. Not ever.
