I’m leaning in the doorway to the living room when a hand touches my shoulder, and Tristan shifts closer to kiss my cheek.
“How are you doing?” he whispers.
“Honestly?” I sigh. “I want to get the hell out of here.”
He slides his fingers through mine and gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “Why don’t we get you something to drink?”
I lean back into his chest and glance up at him with an arched brow.
“Tea or coffee, sweetheart,” he says.
I purse my lips. “What about coffee with something a lot stronger?”
“I’m not sure that would be a good idea right now.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” I grumble.
“What’s that now?” he checks.
I roll my eyes. “I’m not going to say it again, Tris. Nice try.”
Before he can say anything, Mom approaches, offering a small smile. “Hello, Tristan,” she says.
“Mrs. Marshall,” he greets in a warm tone, reaching out to shake her hand. “Please accept my deepest condolences.”
“Thank you for being here today and for being so supportive of Aurora.”
“Of course. It’s been my pleasure.” He steals a glance at me and smiles.
I look over at my mom. “How are you doing?”
Her smile fades. “I’m hanging in there. Your father has barely left my side since we walked in the door. He’s talking to your uncle right now, so I thought I’d sneak away and check on you.”
“You don’t need to worry about me, Mom. Please take care of yourself and make sure Dad is doing the same.”
She blinks, trying to clear her watery eyes. “You’re my daughter, Aurora. I will always worry about you.” She glances past me to where Tristan stands. “Maybe you two should get out of here for a bit,” she suggests. “Go grab lunch or something. I’m sure we can hold the fort for an hour or so. You’ve been so strong during all of this, Aurora. Take a break.”
I shake my head. “I don’t need to, Mom. It’s okay. I’m not going to leave you and Dad to talk to all of these people.”
“Please, Aurora. This is your mom taking care of you.”
“Okay,” I concede. “Please call me if you need anything.”
“Deal,” she says, stealing a quick hug before walking back into the living room, where a group of people pull her into a conversation.
When Tristan pulls into the parking lot of one of the most expensive restaurants in the city, I shoot him a look.
“We’re not eating here,” I say, glancing over at the people walking into the building with suits and formal wear. “We could’ve gone for something more casual.”
“Is that what you want?” he asks, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.
My stomach growls at the thought of kung pao chicken. I glance over at him and offer a small smile. “Maybe.”
“Whatever you want, Rory, say the word.”
“There’s an amazing hole-in-the-wall restaurant a few blocks down.”
“You got it.” He pulls back out onto the street and holds one hand out to me, keeping the other on the wheel.
I slide my hand into his, resting it on the gear shift. “Thank you,” I murmur.
It only takes a few minutes to get to the locally owned Chinese place I told Tristan about. My family has been ordering from this restaurant since I was born, and from what I can tell, it’s still as amazing as it was over a decade ago.
One of the waitresses I’ve chatted with on several occasions, Tess, seats us in the far back booth and leaves us with menus. I scan mine as if I don’t already know what I’m going to order. I peek over at Tristan, watching him for a moment before his eyes flick up and catch me staring.
He shoots me a wink and sets his menu on the table. “Do you know what you want?”
I nod, dropping mine on top of his. “I knew before we walked in the door.”
He chuckles. “You’re always prepared.”
I tilt my head. “I spend so much time with you,” I say. “I have to be.”
Tess returns to the table with our drinks, so Tristan doesn’t say anything in response to my remark. I hand her the menus and order my kung pao chicken and vegetable chow mein before Tristan orders. She scribbles down what we want and hurries off to get our order in.
“Crap,” I mutter. “I left my phone in the car. I should go grab it in case my mom calls.”
“Stay here. I’ll get it,” he offers.
I shake my head, standing. “Toss me your key, and I’ll be right back.”
He fishes the key out of his pocket and drops it into my open hand. “Always so stubborn,” he murmurs.
I walk backward to the front door and blow him a kiss. Outside, I head toward the parking lot at the back, clicking the unlock button as I approach the passenger side. Swiping my phone out of the cup holder, I slip it into my jacket pocket and lock the car after I shut the door.
Before I can turn around, a hand clamps over my mouth. Someone slams me against the car. I cry out, pain shooting across my face where it hit the window. I spin around to face my assailant and wince when he grabs me by my throat. His dark brown eyes narrow, his white blond hair flying all over the place with the wind.
“Aurora,” he purrs, cocking his head to the side. He looks over my face as his fingers dig into my jaw.
I try to smack his hand away, cringing at the sharp pain. “Who the hell are you?” I growl, as two others step into my line of sight—a guy and a girl who both look my age.
He presses his knee between my legs and leans in until his face is inches from mine. “Keep quiet,” he snaps.
“Ease up,” the other guy barks.
“Fuck off, Nik,” the guy snaps but lets go of me.
“We were told not to harm her,” the guy—Nik—says.
“So what?”
Nik rolls his eyes, thrusting a hand through his messy black hair, and shrugs. “Your funeral, asshole.”
The girl sighs. “Can we hurry? I’m getting bored.”
I shove the guy away from me. “I’m going to take a shot in the dark and guess that you lot are light fae.”
Nik slow claps from where he’s leaning against one of the parked cars.
“What gave us away?” the guy still blocking my escape asks with a snicker.
“Well, it certainly wasn’t your friendly demeanor,” I remark dryly.
The light fae whose name I still don’t know growls and rears back to hit me, but his fist never connects. I blink, and he’s flying through the air until he smacks against the brick side of the building.
I suck in a sharp breath as Tristan prowls toward the guy crumpled on the ground. “Don’t.” I grab his arm. No matter how much that fae deserves what he’d have coming to him, I don’t think I can watch Tristan kill someone.
“Nice suit, Westbrook,” Nik laughs from the same spot against the side of the car.
“You want to live, Sterling?” Tristan snaps.
Nik snorts. “Oh, threatening. Showing off for your girl?”
Tristan steps around me, and faster than my eyes can register, he has Nik by the collar of his jacket. Seeing fae shifting from one place to another so fast makes me queasy. “Since when do you do Jules’s dirty work?”
Nik cocks a brow. “Who says Jules sent us?” He shakes his head.
“Nikolai,” the female fae snaps.
“Why are you here?” Tristan demands, and his knuckles go white as he tightens his grip.
“Now where’s the fun in me giving that up?” Nik’s eyes glimmer.
“Well, you might get to keep your life. That could be fun.”
“You’re so uptight, Tristan.” Nik glances over at me. “Anytime you want to get away from Mr. Broody over here, you let me know.”
Tristan growls and slams him into the car, which shatters the passenger-side window.
I offer a tight-lipped smile. “Not in your lifetime.”
He chuckles. “I’m immortal.�
�
“Exactly.”
Nik rolls his eyes and twists Tristan’s arm enough to slip free, stumbling to the side. “Believe it or not, Westbrook, your fight isn’t with me.”
“My fight is with the light fae,” he barks. “Until they—you—stop killing my people, my fight is with you.”
Nik fixes his jacket where Tristan wrinkled it. “I haven’t killed anyone.”
“You’re going to act like you weren’t going to kill me?” I cut in.
He licks his lips. “I wasn’t.” He shrugs. “I was going to watch.”
Tristan backhands him so hard, he falls to his knees. Tristan hauls him to his feet and strikes again and again, slamming his fist into Nik’s face until blood is spraying from his nose and mouth. The female fae disappears at that point.
My eyes focus on the battle in front of me. Nik isn’t getting many hits on Tristan, but it doesn’t look as if Tristan is putting much effort in either, and he’s practically pummeling Nik.
Nik disappears, and Tristan whips his head around, growling.
A hand snakes around my waist and a hand clamps over my mouth. This shit is really starting to get old.
“Let. Her. Go,” Tristan says in a voice so hard, so low it hurts my ears.
“Relax, Westbrook. I’m not going to hurt your girl, especially not today.” Nik spins me around to face him and tucks my hair back. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
My mouth goes dry. I blink at him, and then he’s gone.
The fae on the ground comes to, groans, and gets to his feet. “Your days are numbered, Tristan,” he grumbles. “Jules will make sure of it.” With that, he disappears, too.
“Are you okay?” Tristan asks, stepping in front of me.
“I’m fine,” I say.
He tilts my head back to look over my face, and his features sharpen. “Does it hurt?”
“It doesn’t feel particularly good,” I answer.
He closes his eyes and exhales through his nose before he traces his fingers along my skin to heal the marks from being thrown against the car.
When he leans down to kiss my cheek, I cup the side of his face and guide his lips to mine, kissing him fiercely.
After we break apart, I say, “What the hell was that about? Jules has people tracking us now?”
He shrugs, tucking my hair behind my ear. “It’s possible.”
“Tris, you don’t think my parents are in danger, do you?”
“We can’t be sure of anything, sweetheart, which is why I’ve had a team of my people watching them for a while.”
I let out a breath. The idea of Jules targeting my parents makes my pulse surge with nervous energy, but knowing they’re protected eases the weight on my chest. “Thank you.”
“Maybe we should take this food to go?”
I’m not about to argue with that.
It would be a lie to say the next month is any easier than before Adam’s death because it gets harder after the day of his memorial. Tensions are high with the dark and light fae so close to war. After I was attacked, Tristan explained that his meeting with Jules was unsuccessful in putting an end to the war. He said I was targeted because of my affiliation with the dark fae. Because of that, I now have one of the dark fae with me most of the time—including when I go home for Christmas break. It’s quite the sight, Skylar drinking hot chocolate in our kitchen with my parents. Either she’s an amazing actress, or she didn’t hate spending time with humans as much as she wants me to think.
Christmas is hard. Mom and Dad make an effort for me, I think, but it isn’t the same. We do the tree thing, open presents, and Dad cooks a turkey, but we go through the motions of celebrating as if we’re being forced to do it.
After the first real snowfall of the season, I drive over to the cemetery and clear off Adam’s stone. Kneeling in front of it for a while, I wish him a merry Christmas before I leave. I can never spend much time there. It still hurts too much.
I travel back to campus a few days later, unable to spend any more time in that house with nothing to do.
With the first semester over, I don’t have anything to work on for a week and a half. I thoroughly clean my room, leaving Allison’s side alone. There isn’t much I don’t do to distract myself. I shift my furniture only to move it back an hour later and wash my bedding and all of my clothes. I clean the bathroom. Hell, I sweep and mop the floor.
Now, almost two weeks into my final semester of college, my life falls into a comfortable routine. I go to class, study in the library or the lounge, and help out at the Westbrook Hotel. My placement is over, but I’ll use any excuse to spend time with Tristan, something I never could’ve predicted would happen.
On the couch in Tristan’s office, I’m half sitting, half lying, reading over the preliminary papers for my business proposal final assignment when he storms into the room and slams the door behind him.
“Long day?” I ask, glancing at him over my paper.
He lets out a heavy sigh. “I didn’t know you were here.”
I frown. “I don’t have to be. Do you want me to leave?”
He approaches the couch. “That is the last thing I want, Rory.” He rakes his fingers through his hair, messing up the already tousled strands.
“Okay,” I murmur, offering him my hand. “Do you want to talk about it?”
He slides his hand into mine and sits on the edge of the coffee table beside the couch. “Four more of ours were found dead this morning. I sent Max out to get some answers.”
“What happened at that meeting, Tris?” I ask. He’s been keeping quiet about the light fae since Adam died. I think he’s worried about putting more on me, but I want to be there for him like he was there for me.
He bows his head, looking at our hands as he brushes his thumb across the top of my knuckles. “Let’s just say a ceasefire isn’t in the cards. Jules is hell-bent on seeing me fall.”
“Jules doesn’t want to coexist,” I say. “What could the light leader possibly want? Power over the light fae isn’t enough?” I sit up, dropping my paper onto the couch beside me, and my knees touch his.
Tristan shrugs. “To lead all of the fae, the dark included. Some are open to the idea of coexistence. On both sides. Except in Jules’s plan, I’m no longer included.”
My jaw clenches. “We have to do something about this. Now.”
A hint of a smile touches his lips. “Are you worried about me?”
I raise my eyebrows, pulling my hand free from his. “Are you kidding? Of course I’m worried! Your enemy is planning to kill you!”
“It’s been that way since we both became leaders, sweetheart. This isn’t new. To be honest, this wouldn’t be a priority for me if not for the light fae killing mine. Skylar is still preparing the retaliation group.”
I press my lips together, hesitating before I say, “The war is about to start, isn’t it?”
He shakes his head. “The war started the moment they killed one of ours.”
I nod. “What can I do to help?” I shoot him a look when he chuckles. “I’m serious. I want to help.”
He leans forward, brushing the hair away from my face. “I know you do. After everything you’ve been through over the last four months, you still want to help. You can’t imagine how that makes me feel.”
“Tristan Westbrook, Leader of the Dark Fae, feels?” I gasp mockingly. “Alert the press.”
He tweaks my chin. “Smart mouth,” he says.
I press my lips against his in a quick peck. “Touché,” I murmur.
His eyes flick over to the paper I was working on. “What’s that?”
I pick it up and hand it to him. “My business proposal for class. It’s not great, but I think I can make it work. I couldn’t come up with anything else. Nothing seemed good enough. I’m hoping my professor will accept it.”
It’s something I’ve been thinking about for almost a decade. I want to open my own independent bookstore and café. The exact plans have changed se
veral times since I came up with this business proposal. I’ve known since Adam passed that I wanted to make it a charity where all profits after operating costs go to financially struggling families with sick children.
Tristan scans the pages, and I become more nervous by the second. “I think you should do it,” he says.
“You think I could use this for my assignment?” I check.
“Sure, but that’s not what I meant. I think you should do it,” he repeats.
“Do it? As in—?”
“Open the business, Aurora.”
“What? I can’t do that.” I shake my head. “That requires a commercial building, marketing, employees, and, oh yeah, money. I’ve spent thousands of dollars getting my degree. I’m dead broke.”
“Let me pay for it,” he says in a casual tone.
My brows tug together, and I gape at him. “No. No way. Absolutely not.”
His lips twitch. “Then partner with me.”
“What did you just say?”
“You’ve made it clear you can’t start this business venture as a sole proprietor, so partner with me. I have the necessary funds, and you have the ideas. It’s simple.”
“I think the word you’re looking for is crazy, Tristan. This is a college assignment. I haven’t graduated. I can’t open my own business. I have approximately zero experience, and—”
“You have plenty of experience, sweetheart. You’ve worked here for months. Do you think I would’ve given you the responsibility I did if I didn’t think you could handle it?” He sighs. “Aurora, I arranged that placement for your protection. There was no way to know what would happen after you found out about the fae, and with your lineage being a dead end, I couldn’t count on that to protect you—from my own people as well as the light fae. That aside, the choices I made in regard to your working at my company were smart business decisions. You impressed everyone, though most would never say it. You can do this. We can do this.”
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