Page 104 of Deadmen's Queen

Tristan reached down, brushing a loose curl away from my face.

“My body, my mind, my heart, it all belongs to you, Paige. Every drop of blood, if you need it. I’m yours completely, Sunshine. Now, how are you doing? Are you ok?”

It was a loaded question. Was I okay? Physically, I suppose I was healing well, but emotionally...I wasn’t so sure.

“I’m getting there,” I said truthfully. “One day at a time.”

Tristan nodded, the corners of his mouth twitching in his familiar half-smile.

“That's all any of us can do, isn't it?” he said. “One day at a time.”

“I'm really glad you're okay, Tristan,” I said softly. He smiled again, reaching out to place his hand over mine.

“Tristan!” Nate’s voice came from the front of the house. “Tristan! A little help, please!”

"Of course I'm okay. Nothing's going to keep me down for long," he assured me with a grin. “Oh, and by the way, Bast? I brought a friend along for Paige. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

There was a scuffling noise inside the house, and then a flurry of cream fur came flying through the door, claws scratching over the wood as it collided with me and Tristan.

“Max!” I dropped down to the deck, laughing as the excitable retriever lunged at me, panting and licking as I ran my hands through his fur.

“Dom is going to have you killed,” said Bast, rolling his eyes at Tristan. “And I am not standing up for you.”

“Who’s Dom?” I asked.

“The friend of mine who owns the house. He’s not really an animal lover,” said Bast, glaring at Tristan who grinned and held up his hands.

“He’s not just an animal, right now he’s an assistance animal and they’re allowed everywhere. He’s stress relief for Paige.”

“What do I get for the stress he’s going to cause me?” grumbled Bast.

“Brandy,” answered Nate, stepping out onto the deck. “Tristan picked up a couple of bottles for you on the way down.”

“I might learn to forgive him then,” muttered Bast, fighting a smile.

“You can’t be mad at me, I’m an invalid,” whined Tristan, pulling me back up to my feet, and wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

Bast rolled his eyes again. “How about you make dinner, and we’ll call it quits?”

“Deal,” answered Tristan. He looked down at me, and I melted under that warm smile. “If my little sous chef will help me?”

I tensed up as the memory of the kitchen in the student house flashed through my mind. My mother, her story, David showing up, and the blood…

“It’s ok if you can’t,” he said softly.

I took a deep breath. “No, it’s not. And I’m coming. Lead the way.”

After a delicious meal of steak, new potatoes and salad with an incredible sauce that apparently Tristan had made up on the spot, we relocated outside to the hot tub, my favourite pastime in this beautiful house. After his very own steak, Max had curled up on the white sofa and gone to sleep, much to bast’s disgust. Outside, the sun was setting and the sky was painted with brilliant hues of orange and pink fading into purple.

I stood looking out over the ocean, my white satin rope tied tight around my waist. Tristan came up beside me and put his arm around my shoulders and we stood there for a while, looking out at the sunset. I leaned against him, resting my head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry for not being there when you needed me the most,” he said quietly. “If I hadn’t forgotten my phone, if I’d just fought harder…”

I shook my head vehemently. “No, don’t say that. It wasn’t your fault.”

“But if I—”

“If I hadn’t opened the door, if I’d just told her to leave, if I’d fought harder, screamed louder… it doesn’t work that way, Tristan. It was his fault. All of it.”

---