Page 53 of Heartless Vows

Tristan. Her brother. The heir to the Achilles family and the only reason I can’t have Aurora underneath me all night long.

The last time I saw him, he was knee height. Now the top of his head reaches Aurora’s chin.

When Aurora notices me, excitement brightens her expression before she catches herself. Worry and uncertainty dampen her joy, but she still offers me a tight smile before turning to the old man.

“Good morning, Mr. Hearthright. Please excuse us for a moment, then Tristan is all yours for the day,” Aurora says.

Mr. Hearthright agrees with reserved amusement.

A surge of nervous energy works up from my toes, the sensation so foreign I take an embarrassing amount of time to recognize it before I shove it away.

Aurora guides Tristan over to stand in front of me. As she introduces us, Tristan sizes me up. I do the same to him, aware of just how brutally honest young boys can be.

He’s a smaller, masculine version of Aurora, so I can’t find much fault in him. He still carries the round face and innocence of youth, but even at first glance, it’s obvious he’s related to Aurora. If she were a little older, I’d think she was his mom, but only at first glance.

When he sticks out his hand for a shake, I take it and enjoy the firm squeeze he gives me.

He drops his friendly expression and sends me what must be all the consternation in his tiny body.

“I may be only eight years old, but if you ever hurt her, I’ll kill you.”

Aurora gasps and clasps her hand over his mouth before trying to tug him away.

I don’t let go. She hisses my name.

“He didn’t mean it. Don’t—”

I lean down to his eye level.

“Do you know how to use a gun?”

He peels Aurora’s hand off his mouth.

“Yes, but my sister won’t even let me touch one. Don’t worry, though, I can still kill you.”

“And how would you do that?” I ask.

“Maybe a knife. Or a car. A truck might be better, since you’re so big. Poison could work, too. Or—”

“Tristan, stop!” Aurora pleads.

I drop into a squat and pull him closer.

“All good options, if you know what you’re doing. No skill is a wasted skill if it can protect the ones you love. I can teach you, if you want?”

Aurora hisses my name again, but a smile spreads across Tristan’s face.

“Promise?” he asks.

“Promise. We’ll protect Aurora together,” I vow.

“Shake on it?” he half-asks, half-demands.

“Of course,” I respond.

He gives my hand a firm shake. I try not to crush his tiny digits but reciprocate with enough force he knows I’m serious.

Aurora throws her hands up in the air and turns to Mr. Hearthright with bewilderment on her face. He shrugs as if to say it’s none of his business, but the amused tilt of his lips shows his approval.

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