Page 57 of Taken By the Fae

Right. Pushing the rolling chair away from the table to stand, I grab the guest list and head for Tristan’s office. I frown when I pass Max in the hallway.

“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you, blondie.” His voice makes me grit my teeth as I keep walking, knocking briefly on Tristan’s office door before slipping inside. I scan in the room, and my gaze immediately lands on Tristan. He’s standing at the window, his back to me, and he’s not alone. His arm is wrapped around someone's waist. She has one hand pressed against the window and the other resting against her thigh as she leans into him, making soft noises that make my stomach sink. He’s not kissing her, not touching her in any way that warrants the moans coming from her, unless…he’s feeding on her.

Before I can speak, he pulls back, whispering something to the woman, who nods and walks over to the sitting area across the room. His attention shifts to me, his lips set in a tight line, eyes glowing blue orbs that steal the air from my lungs.

“Something I can help you with?” He walks closer, and I instinctively take a step back, my eyes flitting to where the woman appears to be passed out the couch, her eyes shut and a faint blush tinting her cheeks. When I force my eyes back to Tristan, he’s much closer. I pull in a shaky breath, my heart toppling over itself.

“What did you do to her?” I whisper, unable to meet the weight of his gaze, and stare at the design on his tie instead. I have no idea why I even asked. Maybe I just want to hear him say it.

“Don’t ask questions you know the answers to. It’s beneath you.”

My eyes snap to his. “Did she know what spending time with you would entail?”

His lips twist into a faint smirk. “You seem very interested in what goes on around here behind closed doors.” He moves closer, and before I can side-step him, he snags my chin. “Or are you simply jealous?”

I smack his hand away, scowling. “You’re delusional if you think that.” Despite the firm tone of my voice, there’s a tiny part of me that’s curious to experience it when it’snotagainst my will. And that’s all kinds of messed up.

His eyes dance across my face. “You sure?” He lowers his voice, stepping so close, I reel back and collide with the wall. “You forget I can feel your emotions.”

I swallow hard and force out, “That means nothing.”

Tristan cocks his head to the side, a bit of his hair falling across his forehead. “Of course not,” he murmurs dryly. He leans in until his nose skims mine, and I hold my breath, my heart in my throat as my entire world narrows on him. He braces his hands against the wall on either side of me, just above my shoulders. “Your heart is racing,” he muses, flicking his tongue along his bottom lip. “But I don’t think you’re scared. So what is it?”

“Annoyance,” I offer, thankful now more than ever I don’t have the same inability to lie as fae.

He chuckles, his breath tickling my cheek. “Hmm… no.” His thumb brushes my shoulder, shooting tingles across my skin. “Try again.”

I bite the inside of my cheek until I taste blood. “What are you doing?”

Tristan cocks his head slightly. “You recall barging into my office a minute ago, yes? Perhaps I should ask you that.”

“Were you going to kill her?” I ask in a voice barely above a whisper.

He arches a brow. “Do you think that low of me?”

“Don’t answer a question with another question. It’s beneath you.”

“No, Aurora, I wasn’t going to kill her.”

“Just feed from her until she ends up passed out on your couch, then?”

He casts a brief glance toward the couch and exhales a sigh. “Evidently so.”

“Such a gentleman,” I mutter.

His gaze returns to me, and he steps back, dropping his arms to his sides. “You’re free to leave,” he says. “Or stay. It’s up to you.”

My eyes widen. “Stay?” I shake my head. “Why would I want to do that?”

He gives me a knowing look but says nothing.

I swallow past the dryness in my throat, standing straighter. “You told me the day we met you wouldn’t feed from me.”

“I stand by that,” he says. “Unless, of course, you offered.”

A flush creeps across my cheeks and chest. “I’m not—I wouldn’t.”

“What if I was dying?”

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