Page 67 of The Arcane God

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.