Married To Darkness-Chapter 425: Is Thalia A Thief?

"If you’re going to kiss something, Thalia... might as well be my mouth."

"If you’re going to kiss something, Thalia... might as well be my mouth."

She froze, lips barely brushing his skin. Her eyes flew to his, wide and breathless.

His free hand came up slowly, fingers grazing her cheek, then tilting her chin up with the lightest pressure.

Their faces were inches apart. The warmth of the moment shimmered between them, tension pulling tight like a bowstring.

"I—" she tried to speak.

"Shh," he whispered, his thumb tracing the corner of her mouth. "Let’s just try this."

He leaned in and kissed her.

It was gentle at first, testing—his lips brushing over hers with a quiet hunger. Then she melted into it, arms slipping around his shoulders as her heart crashed wildly in her chest.

The kiss deepened, sweet and slow and full of promises neither of them had the courage to speak yet.

When they pulled apart, her forehead rested against his, breath mingling.

"Your hand’s still burned," she murmured.

"I think it’s healing already," he said with a lazy grin. "Might be magic. Or might be you."

She flushed, smacked his shoulder lightly, but didn’t pull away.

The water stilled again beside them, the spell gone. But something else had sparked—something neither of them could put out.

Moment later, They sat side by side at the water’s edge beneath a gnarled tree, its branches stretching wide like a guardian over their heads. The sun filtered through the leaves in golden slants, dappling their clothes and faces.

The fire from the ritual was long gone, but the heat of their shared moment lingered in the space between them.

Thalia hugged her knees to her chest, peering across the still water. "Why did you act like that?" she finally asked, her voice soft, hesitant.

Sebastian exhaled heavily and leaned back on his elbows, gaze fixed on the far-off shimmer of the water. "Because it didn’t work," he muttered. "The magic. Maybe it’s the water—it’s not reflective enough. Or maybe the comb... it wasn’t personal enough. Not bonded."

He rubbed his fingers together absently, the ones she had kissed, now only faintly red.

"That was the last piece of them we had. No more leads. No more hints," he said bitterly.

A long silence stretched between them before Thalia murmured, "I might have one more thing that belonged to her."

Sebastian stilled.

Not a breath. Not a twitch.

Thalia turned to him slowly, already sensing something strange. "What is it?" she asked, cautious.

"Are you a thief?" he asked flatly, turning his head toward her with that maddeningly unreadable expression.

Thalia froze. "What?!"

"Answer me." His tone didn’t shift.

She blinked, stunned. Then fire rushed to her cheeks. "No, hunter, I am not a thief!" she snapped, leaping to her feet. She flung his coat into his lap. "I was talking about a gift. A gift she gave me when we went into town. It was hers to begin with—yes—but she gave it to us. I thought maybe it would help your witchery. Sorry it came off as thievery to your oh-so-honorable sensibilities."

Sebastian sat up straight, coat in his hands, a flicker of regret already showing on his face. "Damsel—"

"Leave me alone!" she growled and shoved his chest with both hands.

Damn. His chest was solid.

"Where are you going?" he asked, standing now too.

"Away from you, you suspicious, stubborn bin bucket!" she tossed over her shoulder.

Sebastian snorted. "Bin bucket? That’s new."

"I’m creative when I’m offended!" she shouted.

He chuckled again, and she hated how much she liked the sound. "Damsel, I’m sorry," he called after her. "I mean it. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry," he chanted like a prayer as he followed.

She didn’t stop, and that made his steps faster. But then he cursed under his breath.

"The horse," he muttered, turning back.

Thalia kept walking, arms folded, trying not to feel the weird ache in her chest. Of course he’d leave. They always do. That was when she heard it—the soft gallop of hooves on forest floor, the gentle huff of the horse.

Sebastian pulled up beside her, one hand steady on the reins, the other reaching out to her.

"Come on," he said, voice lower now, sincere. "We’re heading to the nearest village. An inn. One with a mirror."

Thalia hesitated, still pouting, but her eyes flicked up to his face. He was watching her like he wasn’t sure she’d say yes.

"I’m still mad at you," she muttered.

"Understandable," he nodded, then extended his hand again. "But you can be mad at me from the horse. And yell at me from the saddle. It’ll be more dramatic that way."

Despite herself, her lips twitched. "Fine. But no more calling me a thief, or I’m jumping off mid-ride."

"Deal," he said, lifting her up easily. His hands were strong, careful. ƒгeewebnovёl.com

Once she was settled, he climbed up behind her and leaned down a little too close. "Also," he murmured, his voice brushing her ear, "you kiss hands like a temptress. Good thing it wasn’t my neck."

Her entire face went scarlet. "You’re impossible."

"And you’re impossible to ignore," he shot back, a grin tugging at his lips as they rode into the fading afternoon light.

The sky was beginning to bruise violet when they finally rode past the weathered sign of a looming village surrounded by dark forest. The air felt colder here, more still. Even the trees seemed to lean inward, whispering secrets to each other.

"Wyfhaven is rather large, Where are we now?" Thalia asked, her voice barely above a murmur as she leaned into Sebastian’s back.

He chuckled, low and amused. "You think this is Wyfhaven?"

"Isn’t it?" she blinked, glancing at the looming buildings ahead.

"We didn’t meet in Wyfhaven, remember? That was the outskirts. Technically, we were in Wyfwyenne. This..." he gestured ahead with his chin, "is Wyfmoor."

Thalia furrowed her brows. "Sounds spooky."

He grinned. "That’s because it is. Locals call it the Village of Shadow."