"Me neither," I lie, and she knows it.
She smiles and lifts her flute between us. "A toast?"
I lift up my glass. "To what?"
"To new experiences," she says and gently taps my glass.
"I'll drink to that," I say, because I'll do just about anything at this point to have her be my new experience.
I take a drink. The liquid is smooth with a subtle burn. Better than what I was drinking inside. But something's off, a subtle undertaste I can't place.
Before I can give it too much thought, Athena kisses me again, harder this time. She presses her body against mine, and I can feel my cock starting to get hard.
But I'm starting to feel something else too. It's subtle. A strange heaviness in my limbs.
I pull back, blinking. The vineyard seems to tilt slightly.
"Something wrong?" she asks, voice soft with concern.
"No." I shake my head, trying to clear it. I take another sip instinctively, thinking it will help.
It doesn't.
I try to blame the whiskey. My buzz from earlier. But as I lower the glass, my grip weakens.
My muscles feel loose, uncoordinated. I've been drunk before. This isn't drunk.
"What the fuck?" I say, my tongue feeling thick in my mouth.
Athena steps back, watching me with dark eyes. Her concern melts away, replaced by something cold.
I blink. The world lags for a second behind my eyes.
Shit.
"You should sit down," she suggests. "You don't look well."
I try to reach for her, but my arm doesn't move. "What did you do?"
"Just relax," she says. "Don't fight it."
I stagger back and she doesn't move. She just watches. "Just give in, Dimitri. It's easier that way."
My knees buckle. I hit the ground hard, one hand bracing against the damp earth. The world spins. I try to stand, but my legs won't cooperate.
"You fucking drugged me." My voice comes out slurred.
Athena crouches beside me, perfectly balanced on her heels. Her fingers brush my cheek almost tenderly.
"You'll be fine," she says. "But you're not going to like what comes next if you keep fighting."
I grab for her wrist, missing completely. My vision blurs at the edges. I collapse fully now, face resting on the dirt.
I try to drag myself forward. Useless.
She straightens, pulling a phone from somewhere in that dress, and presses it to her ear.
"He's out. Come get us."