Twisted Fate

by Jessi Elliott

He speaks passionately about how he grew his business from the ground up, starting with an idea and a goal. Admiration floods through me as I listen to the story. His eyes pause on me, and recognition flashes in them. Something tells me my emotions are on display. He smiles at me as if we’re sharing a moment, as if we’re the only two people in the lecture hall, and then his gaze shifts across the room as he continues to speak.

  My phone vibrates, and I glance down at the screen. I have a new message from my mom, giving me an update on Adam’s chemo treatment. She says, “So far so good.” Adam is taking it like a champ, which I knew he would. Still, an ache blossoms in my chest. I wish I were there with him through this. My parents are doing the best they can while still working full-time, and I visit as often as my course load will allow. Adam doesn’t want me to fall behind by staying in Mapleville too long. He’s always trying to put everyone else before himself. He’s the most compassionate twelve-year-old I’ve met.

  I’m still typing my mom a reply when I notice people leaving. The room empties, and I attempt to throw my things into my bag to follow them out. Only a few others remain in the room. If I’m going to get out without—

  “Miss Marshall, a moment, please.”

  I glance up and lock eyes with Tristan and hesitate before I offer a curt nod. Leaving my bag at my seat, I make my way to the front while Richard and the remaining students chat on their way out of the room.

  Tristan is packing his things, appearing to be in no rush to leave.

  I slide onto the large desk off to the side and let my legs dangle over the front, swinging them back and forth.

  “What was this morning about?” he asks, zipping up his fancy leather bag.

  I look over at him and shrug. “I was late.” I should tell him about Evan stopping by and what he said, but here doesn’t seem like the place to talk about it.

  He leaves his bag at the podium and approaches me. “I know that, Aurora. I’m asking you why. You’re never late for work. I imagined school would be the same.”

  I sigh, rubbing my hands over my face as I recall I didn’t have time to put on any makeup before I sprinted to class. “I’m tired. It’s no big deal.”

  He steps in front of me and grips my wrists, pulling my hands away from my face and setting them in my lap. “It’s been over a week since—”

  “I know,” I cut in. I don’t want him to say what went down the night Danielle poisoned me, or the day in the ballroom. It all felt too intimate. “It’s fine. I just need to grab a coffee.”

  “Have you spoken to Skylar?”

  “About this?” I ask in a sharp tone.

  He chuckles. “No. About the charity event.”

  “Oh,” I mumble. “I was going to head over and meet with her now.”

  “I’m going there, too. Why don’t you ride with me?”

  I catch my lower lip between my teeth. The idea of riding in a car alone with Tristan sets me on edge.

  “Aurora,” he says in an amused tone.

  “Yeah, okay,” I say. “Before we go, why didn’t you tell me you were coming today?”

  “And miss the look on your face when you saw me? No way.”

  I narrow my eyes. “For an all-powerful fae leader, you sure can act like a twelve-year-old.”

  He chuckles, arching a brow. “All-powerful, huh?”

  I push him back a few steps and slide off the desk. “Why are you here? You wouldn’t waste your time teaching humans without your own agenda. You won’t teach me.”

  “You must be upset about that, considering this isn’t the first time you’ve mentioned it,” he points out with an arrogant smirk.

  “Whatever. Stop avoiding my question.”

  “I was here to monitor a situation.”

  “A light fae situation?”

  “I want to make sure you’re safe.” His eyes meet mine and soften. “I don’t want you targeted because of me.”

  “Screw that. Who I spend my time with is no freaking concern of the light fae.”

  Tristan smiles as if he’s trying not to laugh.

  “What?” I snap.

  “Nothing. Just you.” His tone is confusing.

  “Yeah, go ahead, laugh at the human who can’t protect herself from the supernatural. I’m hilarious.” I roll my eyes. “Mark my words, if I catch wind of more light fae targeting me, you can bet your ass I’m going to cut a bitch.”

  “Take a breath, sweetheart. It won’t come to that.”

  “Danielle tried to kill me. What makes you think someone else won’t try?”

  “I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he vows in a deep voice.

  I glance away before nodding. “We should go.”

  Never did I think I’d be walking out of class with Tristan beside me. While I’ve gotten used to his presence, I’m not used to the eyes that follow us the entire way to the parking lot.

  Tristan goes through the Starbucks drive-thru on the way back to the hotel and orders himself a coffee. As I’m about to tell him what I want, he orders my usual iced caramel macchiato and drives to the window. He’s paid attention to the coffee I drink at the office. Something so minimal shouldn’t stick out to me so much, but it does.

  Max pulls Tristan into a meeting the minute we get back to the office, so I drop my stuff and find Skylar in the conference room, poring over a stack of papers.

  “Hey,” I say.

  “You’re late,” she snaps.

  “By three minutes,” I toss back, ignoring her defensive tone, and sit across from her. “What are you working on?”

  “I’m going over the donors for the event. We’ve got more than enough, and I’m still waiting on a few companies to get back to me.”

  “That’s great. Is the guest list finalized?”

  Skylar pushes a sheet of paper across the table, and I scan it. “This looks good to me,” I offer.

  “I don’t care what it looks like to you, human. I need you to take it to Tristan and get his approval.” She doesn’t spare me a glance.

  I bite back my retort. It won’t do me any good. Pushing the rolling chair away from the table to stand, I grab the guest list and head for Tristan’s office. I knock and wait this time, knowing he was pulled into a meeting. One of his employees answers, and I hold out the list. “I need Mr. Westbrook to sign off on this.”

  “Sure. Wait here,” he instructs, taking the paper from me.

  I stand in the hall and wait for him to return.

  “That’s not what I’m saying,” Max growls from inside the room.

  I bite the inside of my cheek. Whatever the meeting is about, he’s unhappy with it.

  “What are you saying?” a female voice asks.

  “We can’t keep letting them attack. Our numbers are dwindling as it is. We have to take action. Fight back. Now.”

  Someone slams their fist on the table, and I suck in a breath from behind the door. There’s a pause in conversation when the employee returns to the door and hands me back the list.

  “Thanks,” I say. He closes the door in my face without a word as if he’s worried I’ve already heard too much. I return to the conference room and give Skylar the list. “All good.”

  “Fine. I need you to call the bartender to confirm what they’re bringing.”

  “Sure.” I glance at my hands then back at her. “Can I ask you something?”

  “If you must,” she answers.

  “When I went to Tristan’s office, he seemed to be in a pretty important meeting about the issues that have been going on with the light fae.”

  “That’s not a question.”

  “Right. I was wondering why you’re sitting here working on this human event and not in there offering your opinion. I’m sure you have one.”

  She laughs, stapling some pages together. “I chose to sit out of that meeting. I sit in enough meetings for Westbrook Inc. as it is. I lead the physical training. Teaching fae how to protect themselves and each other. Max gets to sit in there and take notes, wh
ich I’ll be briefed on later. This power struggle between the two sides has been going on for a long time. Too many of ours have died. We’re going to retaliate soon, and we’re going to make sure we have the resources and power behind us to win. That takes time, training, and planning.”

  “When is this going to happen?” I’m not sure I want an answer.

  “Don’t worry about it,” she grumbles, and with that, she goes back to work as though I’m not there.

  All I can do after that is worry about it. What will happen once the dark fae launch their retaliation? How many innocent humans will get killed in the crossfire? What will happen when Allison finds out the dark fae—her people—are going to kill the light fae, including her boyfriend? What the hell is going to happen to me?

  It’s dark outside when I collect my things. Skylar left hours ago, but I wanted to keep working. The charity gala is fast approaching, and being given the opportunity to spearhead it makes me want to ensure it’s a smashing success. It’ll look good on my resume, and it’s a great opportunity to gain some contacts in the business world. So I’m all for the extra work, even if it means juggling my responsibilities.

  I flip the light off on my way out and peek down the hall to see Tristan’s light still on. I walk to his office, my flats not making much sound, and knock on his door before I slip inside, letting the door close behind me. “Can I talk to you?”

  He glances up from the paperwork on his desk.

  I take that as my cue to speak. “I had a conversation with Allison’s—uh, Evan the other day.”

  His eyes narrow. “He approached you?” A muscle ticks along Tristan’s jaw. “What did he say?”

  “He wants to meet with you. Something about wanting to prove he’s not a threat.”

  He arches a brow. “He and Allison are still seeing each other.” It’s not a question.

  “My loyalty lies with my best friend, Tristan. I understand why the rule is in place, but shouldn’t you be willing to at least hear him out? Listen to what he has to say. Not all of the light fae have to be enemies.” I shrug. “But hey, that’s just one human’s opinion.”

  Tristan chuckles. “You say that like your opinion doesn’t mean anything. It does.”

  I nod. “Okay, then while were on the relative topic, I think you need to put on your big boy pants—you have an unfairly huge closet full of them—sit down with their leader and call for a freaking ceasefire. Why do fae have to keep dying?”

  “While your idea is decent in theory, it’s more complicated than that.”

  “From my experience, which some would say is minimal, there’s nothing about the fae world that isn’t. Stop using that as an excuse. You have a solution right in front of you, but you won’t consider it because it’s not complicated enough.”

  “You came here to talk to me about how I should lead my people? You want to talk fae politics? I’ve been the leader long enough to know what I’m doing.”

  “What’s your point? This war is proof that you don’t have all of the answers.”

  “I’m handling it, Aurora,” he says in a deep, tight voice—one that isn’t friendly and one I don’t hear often.

  “Fine,” I grumble, shrugging.

  His features smooth. “It’s interesting that you seem to care so much.”

  “No, it’s not.” I’m not in the mood for where this conversation is going.

  He chuckles again. “Okay, sweetheart.” His tone is borderline mocking.

  I scowl. “Don’t do that.”

  He rises from his chair and walks around the desk, closing the space between us. He stops a mere foot away, so close I could lean in and feel his breath on my face. “It seems we both have things we don’t want to talk about.”

  “I . . .” Blood rushes to my cheeks. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  He reaches forward and twirls a strand of my hair between his fingers. “You’d rather not talk, then?” he murmurs.

  My heart lurches in my chest. This scenario could go a few different ways. I know which way my body wants it to go, but my mind is screaming at me to run away.

  “I know we got off to a bad start, Rory, but I think you can agree things have changed since then,” he says in a hushed tone before dropping his hand back to his side.

  I open my mouth to—what? Dispute his claim? He’s right. I just don’t want to admit it.

  He wets his lips and backs away a few steps. “Tell me you don’t want me. Say it, and I won’t bring it up again.” His eyes flick back and forth across my face as he waits for my response. He’s giving me an out. All I have to do is say I don’t want him.

  I can’t do it. I can’t make the words form on my lips.

  “This is ridiculous,” I mutter instead.

  “I’m not asking for much,” he says.

  “You know what you’re doing. I’m not going to do this with you. We work together. I have to see you at least twice a week on top of the times you pop up out of nowhere, including when I’m asleep—”

  “That happened one time,” he cuts in.

  I run my fingers through my hair. “It’s late, and I’m exhausted. I should go home.”

  “If only you were in a hotel full of beds,” he says with a wry grin.

  I sigh. “You are insufferable.”

  “Thank you,” he replies.

  I turn my back on him and walk to the door, opening it quickly. I need to get out of here and clear my head.

  “When you’re ready to admit what you want,” he calls after me in that deep voice I can feel all over, “you know where I am.”

  I pause for half a second at the door, and then I hurry out of the room, grabbing my things before leaving the building.

  I stay in bed for over an hour after I wake up. It’s Saturday; I have no assignments due right away—no responsibilities I need to rush out of bed for. I pull my computer onto my lap and answer emails from classmates about group assignments and scroll through my social media feeds. When I’ve wasted as much time in bed as I can stand, I throw the sheets off and shuffle into the bathroom to take a shower. I shampoo my hair, humming a new song I’ve been working on. By the time I rinse out the conditioner, I’m singing the lyrics and enjoying the sound echoing around the tiny bathroom.

  I towel dry my hair and wrap another around my body, my fingers and toes pruned and my skin radiating heat. Still humming, I open the bathroom door to grab some clothes from my closet.

  I stop dead when I find Tristan and Allison standing in our room.

  “Hey.” She presses her lips together as if she’s trying not to smile. “Nice singing.”

  Tristan chuckles.

  I stand there, staring at them both. Aware of my lack of clothing, I grip the towel tighter around me and look between them. “Do I even want to know?” I ask.

  Tristan looks like he’s about to pounce on me. The dark, intense focus in his eyes makes my heart pound and the heat between my thighs pulse.

  “Tristan told me that Evan came here and talked to you.”

  I force my eyes to shift over to Allison. “Yeah.”

  “Sorry I wasn’t here.” She keeps her eyes on me, as if she’s too scared to look at Tristan now that we’re talking about Evan. “Look, I know no one trusts him, but I do.”

  Tristan chuckles again, but his jaw is hard.

  “Like you’ve never wanted something you shouldn’t? Something your people don’t agree with?” Allison’s cheeks flush quickly, and her eyes widen, knowing she said something she shouldn’t have.

  Tristan’s eyes shift to me, and I shake my head.

  Knowing she’s made a mistake, Allison grabs her bag off the end of her bed and hurries out of our room, leaving me standing before Tristan in nothing but a towel.

  Tristan sits on the end of my bed and waits for me to come back out of the bathroom, this time with clothes on. I comb my fingers through my hair while he sits there, watching me without a word. I’m not sure why he’s here, but it’s clear that h
e has no plans to leave yet.

  I walk around the small room in quick, unmeasured strides, tidying things here and there.

  “You’re pacing,” Tristan comments in a calm voice.

  I ignore him, busying myself in case that might keep me from having to talk to the fae leader still sitting on my bed. I guess I should be grateful he let Allison leave, especially after she snapped at him, clearly defying his position—and fae law.

  Tristan catches my wrist as I pass by him and holds it in a gentle grip, stopping me from whizzing around. “Aurora, come sit for a minute, please. You’re making me dizzy.”

  I peer down at his fingers wrapped around my wrist, where my pulse is humming with the energy of being so close to him. “She’s not going to stop seeing him, no matter what you say. She could get hurt, and there’s not a damn thing I can do.”

  Tristan lets go of my wrist and slips his fingers through mine. “This isn’t your fight, and she’s not your responsibility.”

  I sit beside him. “She’s my best friend. You guys are going to war, and I have no idea what’s going to happen. It seems like she’s not even concerned about the consequences of her relationship. Why would she risk that for one person?”

  “You’d be surprised what some people would do for one person.”

  I sigh. “Are you really going to throw her in prison?”

  He turns toward me and our eyes meet. “Are you asking me to let her break one of our laws?” He regards me with a thoughtful expression. “I can’t do that, Aurora. I’m sorry.”

  I nod, understanding he’s looking at the bigger picture. He has the responsibility to take care of his people, and until proven otherwise, Evan is a threat.

  Thrusting my fingers through my still-damp hair, I blow out a breath. “You haven’t told me why you’re here.”

  He wets his lips. “I’ve been looking into your family history.”

  “As most stalkers do,” I quip, trying to lighten the mood in hopes that will ease the tendrils of anxiety wrapping around me.

  His eyes glimmer. “You wanted more information, so I did some research.”

  I bite the inside of my cheek. “You’re saying you did this for me?”