Page 33 of Twisted Gift
“Take care of yourself—your new self. She’s important to me.”
The rush of emotions slams into me like a brick wall, and my lips part as I suck in a breath. “I...”
“Please.” His unwavering gaze makes my heart pound harder.
I nod. “I promise.”
He lets out a breath and thrusts a hand through his hair. “I fucking miss you, Rory.”
I miss you.The words scream in my head, but I can’t force them past my lips. Not because it’s a lie—it’s the hardest truth I know—but because I’m still so unsure. My thoughts jump back to the conversation I had with my mom over the weekend.
Anything as important as love is worth the risk.
I set my glass beside Tristan’s and stand so I won’t throw myself over the table and into his lap. In this moment, I want nothing more than to give in to the pounding of my heart against my ribcage. Even with the time that’s passed,I knowwhat wrapping myself in Tristan’s arms would feel like.Home.
“The fae meeting wasn’t the only reason I came over,” I say in a forced, level tone. What I’m about to tell him—not knowing what it’ll do or how he’ll react—has made my entire body tense.
He wets his lips, his eyes focused on my face. “I’m listening.”
I blow out a breath. “Disclaimer: I know what I’m about to say is going to sound crazy. It’s made my head spin since I found out.”
“What is it, Aurora?”
I clasp my hands together, biting the inside of my cheek to the point of discomfort. “Do you remember when you looked into my family history—my fae lineage?”
His brows furrow. “I didn’t find anything,” he reminds me.
I nod. “I found out why.” When Tristan shakes his head and stands, I pull the paper out of my back pocket, unfolding it before I hold it out to him.
He glances at my face before looking at the paper, taking it from me.
I hold my breath, watching his eyes scan the page. His posture stiffens; he’s read it. “Aurora...” His voice is low, rough. The shield he keeps on his emotions snaps, and I’m whipped in the face with his red-hot anger. My cheeks burn, and I cringe, wanting to move away from him. His rage is like a vice around my throat. It’s not cutting off my oxygen, but the sensation is dizzying.
“Tristan,” I say in a firm voice.
His eyes lift to mine, and he swallows hard, pulling his emotions back, getting them under control. “This is why it was you,” he whispers, disbelief making his voice low and breathy.
I shrug. “I guess so.” There doesn’t seem to be another reason. Jules knew the power I had inside—he knew he could spark it by manipulating me into killing him. He’d lived long enough by that point, maybe he was ready to pass the torch. With me being so important to Tristan when it happened, he probably figured that would work in his favor. That because we were family, I’d take his side and use my relationship with Tristan to his advantage.
“That son of a bitch,” he growls.
I sigh. “Yeah, well, he got his.”
Tristan frowns. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I don’t…what do you need, Rory?”
You. That one tiny word is on the tip of my tongue—so I bite it and stay silent. When Tristan shifts closer, I shake my head. “I should go. Let’s keep this between us. I’ll end up telling Nik and Allison. Maybe Skylar and Max should know as well, but that’s it. The last thing we need right now is the light fae thinking I killed Jules to steal his role.”
He nods in agreement.
Without another word, I head for the door, slipping my shoes on and walking to the elevator while praying Tristan doesn’t ask me to stay.Would I?I can feel him standing behind me as I watch the numbers climb on the small screen above the door.
Once the elevator arrives and I get on, I turn to face Tristan where he’s standing in the hallway watching me. Our eyes meet, and I have to grab the railing to keep myself from getting off and wrapping my arms around him. The ache in my chest is almost powerful enough to overcome the voice in my head warning me away from letting him in.
Reaching over, I press the button for the lobby without looking away from him. “I’ll see you at the meeting,” I say in a low voice.
His response is a curt nod before the door closes, and I’m left alone as the elevator descends to the lobby. I’m such a coward. I’m tired—exhausted—of fighting my thoughts and feelings. They’re at war with each other, much like the light and dark fae.
The pub is closed by the time I get back. I unlock the door and get inside before locking it again and heading for the office. I freeze a few feet from the door when I hear muffled voices. Frowning, I lean closer, but I can’t make anything out. Nikolai shouldn’t be down here this late. My hand reaches for the handle as the sound gets louder. I open the door and step forward, only to let loose a startled, ear-shattering scream and cover my eyes with my other hand.
