"To you, lovely moon." As she lifted her glass high, a brush of cool wind wound around her and Portia, who was now sitting on her shoulder, the smell of buttery coconut lifting to mix with apples and moonshine as the sliver filled out into a half moon.
Tilly laughed, soaking in the blessing, closing her eyes in a holy moment, until she opened them and the black curtain was once again closed and only the stars winked down on her.
Her holy moment popped when she heard something off to the side in the thick of the woods.
She was alone.
She was foolish for having come here barefoot in nothing but a nightgown and robe. Her heartbeat sped up, and she remembered waking up in a forest after the Fourth of July festival. She was just as alone and just as vulnerable now as she was then.
That memory brought back the fear that had riddled her body, and she startled, knowing she had made a great mistake. Five quick steps back the way she'd come, and a hand grabbed her arm, pulling out a small gasp from her, and before a scream could follow, another hand covered her mouth as she was pulled back into a hard chest.
She was immediately blanketed in calm. It was strange, almost drug-like, the way that her body flipped from flight to feeling safe.
And protected.
And then a mouth pressed against her ear, breath hot, and just one word was whispered darkly, taking her from calm and protected to something else entirely.
"Tilly."
His voice was deep, gruff. Her name sounded like it had been pulled from somewhere deliciously dark inside of him.
She had been planted in him.
The way that he held her body against his was firm, his hand that grabbed her arm now splayed across her stomach. She was breathing shallowly, her heart kicking against her ribs, not in fear, but in excitement.
When his open mouth touched her ear, she couldn't hold back the soft gasp that escaped her parted lips, and she closed her eyes against the delicious sensation. Something was warring with her desire. Something niggling at the back of her mind.
But before she could grab onto it, he turned her in his arms so she looked up at Theo. He stood there looking down at her,his dark eyes moving over her face as his large hand slid to the side of her neck, thumb brushing over that place that pulsed. He watched it, his eyes becoming darker before he looked directly into her eyes.
"What are you doing here?" she got out. Her words were breathy.
"You seem to find yourself coming to me, little witch," he replied darkly, and she looked around, realizing she was in the exact spot where weeks ago he had caught her before.
Before.
Before he had charmed her, made her feel safe, and kissed her.
Before he had kissed Astra.
A look crossed her face, hard and angry, which he understood as her hands pushed against his chest, his grip on her impossibly strong, not giving her an inch of purchase.
"Let me go," she demanded.
He smiled. The smile was wolfish. She swore she saw a flash of something sharp. And then her eyes widened when he responded without hesitation, without an ounce of uncertainty.
"No."
And then her eyes widened further as she was pulled fully against him, and his mouth crashed against hers.
27. Honest Visions
The moment that his mouth touched hers, her eyes closed and flashes of him doing this with someone else, the same picture that had been playing in her head bruising her heart over and over, made her tense, her hands still pushing at his hard chest.
But then when she didn't kiss him back, he felt her body unflinchingly rigid, he softened the kiss, his warm lips brushing against hers in a question.
"Let me in, love," he whispered darkly and whatever drug was in his voice, in his kiss was warring with the images in her mind.
With what he had done.
