Page 101 of Twisted Fate

“Look at me, please,” he begs.

I lift my face enough to meet his gaze, and the tears slip down my cheeks, wetting his fingers. His eyes are wide and panic-filled. His face is pale, and his expression is strained; he’s terrified.

“What have I done?” I breathe. And then I shatter.

Tristan catches me before I hit the floor and cradles me in his arms, brushing my hair back out of my face as his eyes search mine. He guides us the rest of the way to the floor and pulls me against him. I bury myself there as he holds me to him, and it takes me a while to realize the unfamiliar movement in the rise and fall of his chest. He’s crying.

Tightness snakes around my chest, making it hard to breathe as I grip the front of his shirt and rest my forehead against his. Seeing Tristan like this—I can’t bear it. “I couldn’t let anyone else get hurt,” I cry. “Please, Tris, you have to understand.” I don’t know if his tears are because I went after Jules without him, or for what happened because I did.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he grinds out. “You weren’t supposed to...” He stops and clears his throat. He leans back and wipes his face with the back of his hand.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble, the burning in my eyes threatening more tears. “If I had known this would happen—”

“It doesn’t matter,” he cuts me off. “It did happen.” Tristan stands, pulling me with him, and I wrap my arms around myself. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

We meet Allison and Max in the parking lot and drive back to the Westbrook Hotel. Tristan and I ride up to the penthouse, and he guides me into the bathroom. “I’ll be right outside,” he murmurs before leaving me alone.

After getting undressed, I stand under the hot spray of water, staring at the marble tile for a while before I wash myself off. Maybe if I stay in here long enough, everything will sort itself out, and I won’t be the leader of the light fae anymore. I almost laugh at the thought. I’m not naive enough to believe that could happen. I’m stuck with this because of the choices I made.

How much did Jules manipulate my life to work in favor of his goal to destroy Tristan? What was real? Whatisreal? There’s no way to know for sure. For all I know, Jules screwed with my head to make me fall for Tristan. My stomach twists, and I wince. The thought makes me feel sick.

I step out of the shower after I’ve rinsed the soap off and wrap myself in a towel. I change into the set of dry clothes Tristan left me and dry my hair the best I can.

Standing in front of the large vanity mirror, I study my reflection. I look the same. Same hair and eyes and skin. Nothing about my appearance has changed. If it weren’t for the drastic difference Ifeel, I could almost pretend that none of this happened, that I wasn’t the new leader of the light fae. Almost. However, the changes are too significant to ignore. I can see and hear better, but shifting scares me too much to think about. In fact, nothing about this new situationdoesn’tscare me. Every breath I take is an effort, and I don’t know how long I can keep it up.

Running my fingers through my damp hair, I let loose a heavy sigh, not wanting to leave the room. I don’t want to go out there and face Tristan—face what I did by killing Jules. I’m still so confused. Did Tristan know a human killing a fae leader would make that person fae? If he did, why didn’t he tell me?He didn’t think you’d be so reckless as to go after Jules alone,a sharp voice in my head says.

I open the door and step into the bedroom to find Tristan sitting at the end of his bed. He looks up when I enter the room and stands, waiting for me to approach.

“Hey you,” he murmurs.

My lips form a smile, but it isn’t real. “Where are Allison and Max?”

“Max said he was going to see Oliver. Allison is downstairs with Skylar trying to keep everyone calm. Word travels fast around here.”

“As if I needed to give the dark fae more reason to hate me.” I tug at the hem of my shirt.

“It’ll be an adjustment,” he says. “For everyone.”

I chew my bottom lip, my eyes burning. “Maybe it shouldn’t be.” My voice is small.

Tristan’s gaze intensifies. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I sigh. “I think I need some time.” The words leave an unpleasant taste in my mouth.

His jaw tightens. “Of course. It’s not going to be easy, but wewillfigure this out, Rory. You’re not alone.”

“I did this, and I need time to process it. Alone.” Time to go through these last months and decide what was real.

Tristan drags his hand through his already messy hair and down his unshaven face. He looks as wrecked as I feel. “You want to leave?” The confusion on his face makes the ache in my chest blossom.

“No,” I shake my head, “but I have to.”

“You’re overwhelmed. That’s understandable. Let me help you through this.” He reaches for my hand, but I step away before he can touch me. I’ll lose the strength I need to leave if I let him touch me.

“Don’t,” I breathe, my lower lip trembling. “Please let me go.” My chest is so tight it feels as if it’s about to explode.

“Why?” he challenges, desperation creeping into his usually confident tone.

---