Page 25 of Taken By the Fae

“Good to see you, Miss Marshall. Until next week.”

ChapterSeven

Allison jumps when I return to our room and slam the door shut, throwing my bag onto my bed. My mind is still going a million miles an hour with no end in sight.

“Aurora—”

“Tristan hijacked my internship.”

She stiffens, her eyes widening. “What the hell? How?”

“I don’t know!” I throw up my hands. “He fae fucked the coordinator’s head and made her put me with his company.”

Her brows knit, and she slides off her bed, coming over to me. “We’ll figure this out, I promise.” She purses her lips. “Can you get a new mentor?”

I shake my head, the weight of what I’ll have to endure on Monday settling in my chest. Damn that arrogant fae for screwing with me like this.

“I wish there was something I could do,” she says, and the worry in her eyes makes me frown.

“You know him better than I do,” I say. “What can you tell me?”

“About Tristan? Or the fae?”

I sigh. “Both.”

There’s something about Tristan, something that tells me he won’t hurt me, or he would have by now. There’s a chance my fae lineage will keep me safe when it comes to him. That doesn’t mean I trust him—far from it—but if I have to deal with the fae to get my degree, I need every piece of information Allison can give me.

“This conversation should involve alcohol,” she says, walking over to her desk and opening the bottom drawer. She pulls out a bottle of tequila and twists the cap open, taking a swig before walking back and passing it to me. “How much do you want to know? We touched on the fae courts but barely scratched the surface.”

I blow out a breath, then take a quick drink, cringing as the liquid burns a path down my throat to my stomach. “Tell me everything. Please.”

She sits on the end of her bed and pats the spot beside her, taking a deep breath as she folds her hands in her lap. “Let’s start with Tristan.”

My stomach dips despite myself, and I grit my teeth.

“I can feel that,” she says in a low voice, peering over at me.

“What?” I squeak, gripping the bottle tighter.

She gestures around me. “The mixed emotions you have toward him.”

I groan, taking another drink.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I really don’t.” Because the more we talk about it, the more I think about Tristan, and I can’t… I shouldn’t.

Allison nods. “I’m here whenever you’re ready to. Perks of being friends with someone who’s immortal.” She nudges me with her elbow. “Okay, we’ll just move right along to the fae courts.”

Seelies are from thefriendliercourt—as opposed to unseelie fae—according to the mythology I found during my brief research stint, though I don’t know how much of that is true or twisted to fit a narrative.

“Have you met the king?” I ask, tipping the bottle back and forth and watching the amber liquid slosh around.

“No. Both the king and queen stay out of the spotlight. They rule by heavily relying on their knights to be responsible for the fae in their courts, especially as of late with the number of attacks and fae disappearances from both courts that neither will answer for. Tensions have been rising for some time, but it’s never been this bad.”

My chest tightens, and after another swig, I pass the bottle to Allison. “So the royals are figureheads who don’t really do much?”

She takes the bottle and drinks, then presses her lips together, nodding.

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