Page 87 of Twisted Fate

“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 Idon’tdo 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 leaderpossiblywant? 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.”

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