Page 100 of Taken By the Fae

“Elijah’s awake,” I gasp out, my heartbeat tripping over itself.

“Mom, please stop crying,” Elijah says in the background.

“Do you want to talk to him?”

My gaze meets Tristan’s, and despite the encouraging albeit faint smile he offers me, the weight of everything that’s happened slams into me at full force. I’m teetering close to the edge of falling apart again, and that’s the last thing I want Elijah to hear. “I really do, but I can’t right now.”

“I understand, honey. We’ll talk to you soon.”

“Bye, Roar!” Elijah shouts.

I end the call before my mom can hear the agony spilling from my lips. Tristan moves toward me again, but I reel back, shaking my head.

“You saved your brother, Aurora,” he says in a gentle voice.

I nod.

“We should get out of here. There’s a lot we need to talk about now that… You need to know what this change means for you, but that conversation can wait until you’ve had some time to collect yourself.”

Another nod.

We walk out of The Iron Lounge and get into Max’s car. I stare blankly out the windshield the entire drive to the hotel, moving robotically from the private parking to the staff elevator. Really, the trip from the pub to Tristan’s penthouse is a blur. My senses are utterly overwhelmed to the point everything is too loud, too bright, too sensitive against my skin. I’ve never had an out-of-body experience, but I’d wager it feels something like this.

Once we’re inside, Tristan guides me through his bedroom to the en suite bathroom, and I watch him pull a towel from the cupboard beside the vanity. He hangs a white fluffy robe on the hook next to the shower and turns it on before coming back to me. I don’t feel any emotions coming from him like I did when he healed me of the foxglove with his blood, which tells me he doesn’twantme to know what he’s feeling right now.

“Take your time,” he murmurs, leaning in and pressing his lips to my cheek. “I’ll be right outside.”

When I say nothing, he exhales a soft breath and leaves me alone, closing the door behind him.

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 fae anymore. I almost laugh at the thought; I’m not naïve enough to believe it. The pit in my stomach is evidence enough of that. Not to mention the guilt ravaging me, because I am so fucking relieved Elijah is awake, but the thought of being fae absolutely terrifies me.

I don’t want this. I don’t want this. I DON’T WANT THIS.

I got my brother back, but I can’t help feeling as if I lost so much more.

Stepping out of the shower after I’ve rinsed the soap off, I wrap myself in the robe, towel drying my hair as I pad over to the sink. Standing in front of the large vanity mirror, I gasp at my reflection. My eyes are glowing and my skin holds the same blue and silver hue I’ve seen on other fae. Holding my breath, I tuck my hair back, and dread fills me like heavy, wet sand at the sight of my newly pointed ears. I blink at my reflection, slightly confused but mostly relieved that my teeth at least appear normal, not the razor-sharp mouth of fangs like I feared. But why? Do I have to earn them or something?

I let loose an unsteady breath and run my fingers through my damp hair. There are other, less noticeable changes, like the sharper angles of my face, the smoothness of my complexion. Of course, then there’s the heightened senses, which already have my head pounding with pressure.

I don’t want to leave this room. I don’t want to go out there and face Tristan—face what I did by killing Jules. Most of the questions I have are terrifying to ask.

After I get dressed in the clothes Tristan left for me, I pace the bathroom a few times. When I can’t reasonably stall any longer, I open the door and step into the bedroom to find Tristan sitting at the end of his bed. He looks up 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 and Allison is downstairs with Skylar. She didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

I nod and cross my arms over my chest, hugging myself as fear digs its claws into me.

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

“Right,” I say, unable to look at him.

“It’s not going to be easy, but we will figure this out. You’re not alone, Rory.”

“I think… I, um, need some time.”

---