Chapter 17

                                    

                                          
                                                                        Xander
They were halfway up the mountain when he noticed she was still wearing the crop top. Her skin had turned a brilliant red, and her lips were somewhat blue. Was she really so stubborn that she'd sooner freeze to death than be around him? He had to tell her to put on the blasted jacket, but luckily she listened. She even laughed, and he couldn't help but smile at it. For once, she didn't have that dangerous sparkle in her eyes when she glanced at him; perhaps she was warming up to him or simply didn't want to die before she could end his life. He kept a comfortable pace beside her, occasionally checking on the ones in front of him. At least the sun was out; walking this hill in the rain was not how he planned to spend his summer solstice. If it were any other solstice, he'd be reclining in his office with the three of them, getting completely intoxicated before the festivities began, and then they'd all head out to the townhouse on the other side of the city. Megan usually decorates the old house the night before with streamers, flowers, creeping vines, and anything else that adds color. He'd purchased the house immediately after becoming High Lord and had it registered in their names. A genuine home for him and his friends. This year would mark the first time in millennia that they would be spending it somewhere else.
They arrived at the base of their final ascent to the mountain peak, which was always the hardest part. The mountainside had carved little steps, only narrow enough to force them to climb it one by one, with Damon, as usual, trailing behind to ascend last. The steps were rough and undefined; one false step and you'd tumble to your death. This was one part where eagle shifters had an advantage. Eric and Michael just shifted and flew up to the temple, leaving the five of them to walk the thousand steps in wind so cold that it soaked into their bones. At least this time, he had a view. His gaze lingered on the long legs in front of him, the way her ass curved, and the way his jacket clung around her waist. The jeans did little to conceal her lean muscles, and she looked great in his jacket. Her crimson hair had been undone since they left Heartgrove and was now swirling in all directions due to the gusts of wind. He could still smell her vanilla and almond scent, even if the wind had muted out the majority of it. No one spoke as they climbed the steps, too preoccupied with keeping their footing and occasionally clutching at the sloped stone wall when the wind threatened to push them over the edge.

The wind had died by the time they reached the final hundred steps and walked through the temple's warding. It was still cold, but the wind had subsided. Sylvia's pace had eased a few hundred steps ago, and he found himself smiling.
"You seem to be struggling, pet." He teased, and she shot him a glance over her shoulder. The furious fire in her eyes had become his favorite aspect of her. The way she looked at him, as if she were planning the perfect murder. Then her lips twisted into a grin, and she paused on the step. She'd stopped shaking by the time she got to the stairs and even had some color on her cheeks.
"Hey, River?" She purred, and his friend paused to smile at her.
"Yes, beautiful?" He drawled, one hand resting on the stone beside him. Her green eyes seemed to dance with mischief as she met Xander's gaze.
"You remember the offer you made me earlier?" She flashed Xander a pointed fang before turning to face River in front of her. Offer? Xander frowned at his friend, but River was now grinning at the redhead.
"Of course."
"I would like to take you up on it." She cooed, and his friend smiled wider before turning around and crouching on his step. For a split second, Xander was confused until she made another step and leaned into River's back. Her hands clutched his shoulders as she dragged herself onto it, wrapping delicate, long legs around his waist, and the envy blazed up again. He watched as River grabbed her by the thighs and started climbing again, carrying her on his back like she weighed nothing. Part of him wanted to lash out, to lose his temper, but he stomped on it. She was not his. Even though he wanted to be the one to hold her in that way. Xander muttered softly at the wretched aching in his gut. Why the hell did he care? She was only a female. He'd considered killing her several times in the past few days, so why was this bothering him so much? Perhaps it's been too long since he's had a female in his bed.