Page 49 of Twisted Fate

He slips his free hand up my arm and grips it near my elbow. He turns it over so my palm is facing up, and when he lowers the needle, I look away again. As it pierces my skin, I flinch, and I swear I can feel his blood entering my system.

My entire body ignites with searing heat, but before I can react, the sensation is replaced by a calming, icy chill. Everything is too bright, so I close my eyes, and I shift as he withdraws the needle from my arm. Dizziness floods in, and I force my eyes open.

“It’s okay.” He sets the needle aside and faces me. “You can sleep now. This will take some time to work through your system.” He helps me back into my shirt and pulls the blankets around me.

“You keep saving me,” I mumble.

He chuckles, but it holds no amusement.

“It’s annoying.” I take a couple of deep breaths. “I don’t want to need saving.”

“Get some rest, sweetheart,” he murmurs.

Closing my eyes, I curl onto my side to get comfortable. Sleep drags me under before I can feel weird about being snuggled into Tristan’s bed.

When I open my eyes, it’s still dark outside. It takes more effort than usual for me to slide into a sitting position. My entire body aches as if I ran a marathon without any preparation, but the unbearable pain in my chest is gone. Everything else I can handle.

My eyes scan the dark room as I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand. After flicking on a lamp, I wander the perimeter of the room, never having had the chance outside of my dream to see what it looks like. I shouldn’t care, but I’m curious. I squint and wobble over to the bookshelves lining one wall. I run my finger along the spines and glance out the windows that cover the far wall, looking out over the city from a magnificent height. Everything is neat and simple. There’s nothing else that expresses Tristan’s personality out in the open. A pang of sadness grows in my stomach. I wonder if he’s this closed-off with Max and Skylar. I hope not. Everyone needs people to share things with, even a fae leader.

Once I’ve finished exploring, I grab the blanket off the bed. Wrapping it around myself to try to keep warm, I slip out of the room. The black silk trails behind me like a train as I pad down the hallway in search of Tristan. I stop at the only other door in the hallway, and poke my head inside to find him sitting behind a desk.

He glances up the moment I open the door and watches me walk into the room. “You should be sleeping,” he says in a hushed tone.

“I woke up.” I approach his desk. He changed out of his formal attire into a black T-shirt and slacks. I rub at my temples, wanting to close my eyes against the light beside him.

Tristan rises and walks around the desk, making me turn so I continue to face him. “Are you in pain?” The concern is so clear on his face, I’m shocked. It looks like he cares.He does, a voice at the back of my mind sings.

I shrug. “A little. Nothing compared to earlier, though. I’m fine.”

“Will you let me help you?”

My forehead creases. “Okay.” Apprehension rings loud in my voice.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. No more needles.” The unease in my chest lets up.

He lifts his hand, and I find myself stepping toward him. He cups the side of my face, and my skin tingles with a familiar warmth as the aching in my body melts away under his touch. My eyes travel over his face—his soft, focused eyes; his strong jaw and the stubble that shadows it; his lips...My gaze gets stuck there too long. I watch the corner of his mouth twitch, and I realize he’s no longer touching my cheek.

“How’s that?” His voice makes me shift my eyes upward.

Clearing my throat, I say, “Better. Thank you.”

He nods, and the weirdest part is, I canfeelthe relief shimmer through him. He’s glad I’m okay. I don’t know how I know that, but—

. . . there could be unforeseen side effects...

My hand flies to my mouth as my wide eyes meet Tristan’s blazing gaze. He’s realized what just happened.

“Holy shit,” I breathe, my hand falling to my side.

He licks his lips. “I suppose this evens the playing field a bit,” he muses, his brows shifting closer together.

“I canfeelyou.”

He nods. “A gift from your fae ancestors, I’d guess. I wasn’t sure what my blood would do, but it seems to have stirred a bit of magic in you.”

“Magic? Hold the hell up. Am I fae now?” He looks like he’s trying not to laugh, and I smack his arm. “Well, I don’t know!”

“You can relax. You’re not fae.”

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