She could gather some moss and make herself a nice little nest, perhaps glamour herself to appear as something as deadly as a basilisk, who with a mere glance could turn any living thing to stone. No one would dare approach her then and she could sleep without being forced to share the knight’s presence.
Perhaps a little time apart would do them well. With any luck by morning she’d be able to plaster on a mask of antipathy and continue on as though nothing had happened between them.
Shifting quickly, she gathered up large clumps of moss and arranged them into a plush nest of sorts.
The bed was far from comfortable, but it was serviceable at least. Calling her magic she wove an illusion of a small green lizard with bright red eyes and then settled onto the spongy, cool bed.
“I hope you do not mean to sleep outside alone tonight. Especially when the bed is more than adequate.” Giles’s voice caused her to jerk in surprise.
He stood directly before her, gazing into her burning red eyes.
“I’m a basilisk—you should show a little fear,” she hissed.
His lips just twitched. “One,” he held up a finger before sitting cross-legged before her, “basilisk don’t talk, they hiss.”
She snorted.
“Two,” he held up another finger, and this time she could see the ugly red wounds he’d acquired from his fight with the wolves last night, “I saw you change.” He dropped his hands to his knees.
Lilith’s stomach curled with tendrils of heat at the sight of him. His hair looked tousled and his face was lined with exhaustion. The way the moonlight played off the darkness of his skin reminded her of the glimmer of India ink. She wanted to swirl her finger upon his flesh and feel its heated smoothness once more.
As much as she told herself repeatedly to not allow the man anymore footholds in her heart, every time she saw him her caution flitted right out the window like birds in flight.
It was almost painfully hard to look upon him, especially with the memory of his rebuff so fresh. She was grateful to be in an altered form where he couldn’t see the play of emotions on her face. Right now she was a lizard without much in the way of facial expressions to judge her by.
He reached out a hand and his fingers brushed hot against her shoulder blade. She inhaled deeply at the spark of touch, her already-rioting insides turned to jelly, and she hadn’t a clue whether to bolt off or sit still and let him fondle her.
His hand continued its slow exploration down her bicep and forearm until he feathered the slightest of caresses against each fingertip. She shivered under the onslaught.
Finally he pulled his hand away.
“Why did you touch me like that?” she whispered.
Dragging his knee to his chest, he hugged his leg and shrugged. “Your illusions intrigue me. I see nothing but air, and yet you’re tangibly all there.”
So he hadn’t really wanted to touch her? Just experience a taste of her magic. Feeling like a deflated balloon, she sighed. “I’m tired tonight, Giles, why are you out here?”
“I wanted to tell you thank you for the meal, it was good. And I was…unkind. For that I’m sorry.”
She shrugged. The words were nice enough, but hardly mattered to her at the moment. What she felt now went beyond the fact that he’d not liked her meal. And she could tell. It’d sat too long and grown cold and overcooked; if he’d been awake when she’d finished cooking it earlier it would have been much better. “Doesn’t matter,” she muttered and then gave a feeble chuckle. “It really was awful.”
“No.” His hand shot out and once again he unerringly found her hand through the illusion. “It wasn’t nothing,” he said with a gentle squeeze of her fingers that caused her already-splintered emotions to go haywire. “You took the time and I fear I can be quite bullheaded when on a mission. It’s always been that way with me sadly.”
When he let go of her hand it was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that he could continue to hang on to it, but she’d already suffered quite enough rejection for one day.
Irritated by her feelings, she shoved her hand under her butt. That way if he tried to grab it again he’d be unable to find it. Lilith clenched her jaw. The point of an illusion was to not be seen, and she didn’t want him touching her so casually anymore.
She should ask him to go back to the shack so she could get some rest. But they’d slept the afternoon away, the last thing she was was tired. Engaging him in conversation was a bad idea. It would only serve to strengthen the emotional attachment she felt for him and it was better for all involved to just sever it now. Her wolf would have to find a compatible shifter at some point that she could mate and be happy with. Lilith needed only to give it more time.
Allowing herself to become entangled with someone outside of her species was a death sentence. Why couldn’t she seem to get that through her thick head?