Page 55 of Taken By the Fae

The sudden urge to rip my hair out makes annoyance simmer in me. I sit lower in my seat and press my lips together so I don’t respond.

“Oh my gosh, he’s looking at me,” the one beside me whispers and slaps the other girl’s arm.

“Uh, no he’s not, babe. He’s looking ather.”

I don’t have to look up to know theherthey’re referring to is me. Keeping my head down, I stare hard at my phone. It vibrates in my hand, and I grit my teeth at the message.

Your annoyance is burning rather brightly today. It’s almost as vibrant as your classmates’ lust each time they look at me.

My thumbs hover over the keyboard as I try, and ultimately fail, to craft a snide response. I lift my head begrudgingly until my gaze meets his and narrow my eyes, shaking my head. The corner of his mouth kicks up, and he slides his phone inside his suit jacket.

Students who left for the break file back in, and the second half of the lecture gets underway. With Tristan’s focus on the lecture and addressing the room, I use the opportunity to look at him. He’s dressed how I’m used to seeing him at the office, and today it looks like he skipped shaving. It’s a look I could get behind.

He speaks passionately about how he grew his business from the ground up, starting with an idea and a goal. Admiration floods through me as I listen to the story. His eyes pause on me, and recognition flashes in them; my emotions are on display. He smiles at me as if we’re sharing a moment, as if we’re the only two people in the lecture hall, and then his gaze shifts across the room as he continues to speak.

Another hour later, the room empties, and I attempt to throw my things into my bag to follow everyone out. Only a few others remain in the room. If I’m going to get out without—

“Miss Marshall, a moment, please.”

I glance up and lock eyes with Tristan and hesitate before I offer a curt nod.

The professor hangs around until the other students file out and shakes Tristan’s hand. “Thank you for joining us today.”

“Always happy to, George.”

“Can I walk you out?” he asks, his gaze shifting to me for a moment, making the tops of my ears burn.

Tristan offers an easy smile. “No, thank you.” He catches the professor's gaze, and I can’t stop myself from watching. “You will leave and remember walking me out. We had a pleasant chat about your lovely students.”

George’s expression is dazed, calm. My stomach swirls with a conflicted mix of unease and attraction as I realize what’s happening. Tristan’s using his manipulation ability on him, and without another word, George grabs his coffee cup and satchel and walks out of the lecture hall. Maybe I should be bothered by Tristan using his ability on my professor, but I can’t stop myself from being attracted to the display of power—especially when he can’t use it on me.

Leaving my bag at my seat, I make my way to the front while Tristan packs his things, appearing to be in no rush to leave.

I slide onto the large desk off to the side and let my legs dangle over the front, swinging them back and forth. “Did you need to mess with his head?”

“Forgive me for not wanting him to get the wrong idea with you staying back after everyone else left.”

I arch a brow. “The wrong idea?” His stupid little smirk makes me scowl. “Never mind. You could’ve just told him you were my mentor.”

“Yes, I could have.” He zips up his stupidly fancy leather bag. “What was this morning about?”

I look over at him and shrug. “I was late.” It doesn't seem like the place to talk about Evan and what he said yesterday.

Tristan leaves his bag at the podium and approaches me. “I know that, Aurora. I’m asking you why. You’re never late for work. I imagined school would be the same.”

I sigh, rubbing my hands over my face; I didn’t have time to put on makeup before sprinting to class. “I’m tired. It’s no big deal.”

He steps in front of me and grips my wrists, pulling my hands away from my face and setting them in my lap. “It’s been over a week since—”

“I know,” I cut in. I don’t want him to say what went down the night Danielle poisoned me, or the day in the ballroom. It all felt too intimate. “It’s fine. I just need to grab a coffee.”

“Have you spoken to Skylar?”

“Aboutthis?” I ask in a sharp tone.

He chuckles. “About the charity event.”

“Oh,” I mumble. “Yeah. I was going to head to the hotel and meet with her.”

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