the camp.”
“I would like to see.”
“Good. We’ll be near the camp soon.”
“Really?” Kiera turned to check how far they had gone, and then paused. They had been around almost the entire perimeter of the central village already. How was it possible? Something about being with Xander, talking with him—even when they were not speaking, or when they disagreed—made time fly by. She cut her eyes to the side, wondering if she should take the added risk of extending today’s visit. All it took was one person recognizing her out here, or one person in the fortress missing her, and the Chancellor would eventually know.
Kiera could either turn to the right and return to the village, or turn left and follow Xander to his camp.
“Not today,” she told him, already disappointed in herself. “I should get back.”
His mouth curved into a frown. Did he enjoy spending time with her too? So far, he was a man of a few words, except when it came to the oppression of shifters, the Chancellor’s heavy-handedness, and the inequity caused by the transformation spell. After that sweet kiss on her palm yesterday, he had not made another advance or said a word about anything personal. She had no way of knowing what he was thinking.
“Tomorrow can work,” she added. “I would like to see what your men are working on.”
“I’m looking forward to it already.”
Xander reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. She shivered at his touch, suddenly felt warm inside, alive and buzzing like a swarm of bees in her head. It was how she imagined being struck by lightning would feel. That touch stirred her up, leaving her aching and breathless. Rather than try to respond over her tied tongue, she turned and practically ran back to the center of the village meet Coco.
Xander might not know it yet, but she was running for a reason. All she could think about was how badly she wanted to stay with him, and goodness, that notion was not just alarming, it was damn near terrifying.
8
Xander
Xander was pleased. His plan to bring Kiera to his side was coming along almost too easily. The woman was already so desperate for the truth. All it took was telling her about the eight dead Chosen witches, and now that she had stayed overnight at his cabin, he was confident she trusted him more. Seducing her would be a breeze. He could do it with his eyes shut, although he much preferred the idea of feasting his eyes on every square inch of Kiera’s body. The best part was that Kiera already wanted him, and that fact was almost as intoxicating as the prospect of seeing change around here. He could not wait to see her again, or to get her to where all she could do was beg him to take her.
As he walked back to the camp, he remembered the way she smiled at him, the way the light hit her face at just the right angle to make her eyes shimmer like emeralds. His expression hardened again. Falling for her was not an option. Kiera had a part to play, and nothing more. They could have a bit of fun, but after his plan was realized, she would not be his concern. Besides, he, his mother, and anyone soldier who was willing would leave the central village before the dust settled. There was a possibility Minassus would try to capture them if their plan did not end up going exactly as hoped, but at least they could fight on their own turf and on their terms. Whatever it took, they would be free.
By the time Xander got to his cabin after meeting his troops that evening, a folded note was wedged in between his front door and the frame. He opened the message.
If you are available, I will meet you tomorrow at noon. Same place as we planned.
How that shifter witch bird managed to know which cabin was his out of all the other living quarters was beyond him. Kiera did not sign her name, but it was clear the message was from her. The memory of her skin tingling beneath his fingers, of touching her soft, silky hair, made him stir. He had no doubt in his mind that soon, he would have all of her.
“When is your witch coming back?” Liam asked, appearing from between their two cabins.
“Soon. How are the traps coming along?”
“Right on