I reach across the table and squeeze his hand. “I’m sorry.”
He drags a hand down his face before taking a sip of his coffee. “It’s okay. There’s a good chance I’m going to move into an apartment in Rockdale after graduation. I figure one day I’ll bring my boyfriend to meet them without saying anything.”
Oliver’s parents are the perfect picture of conservatives. I can imagine how well that surprise would go over.
“We can get a place together,” I say, only half joking. I’ll most likely stick around Rockdale after graduation, and having a roommate would make rent easier to pay.
“Yeah?” The corner of his mouth quirks. “I’ll keep that in mind. Unless, of course, I’m living with my theoretical super-hot boyfriend by then.”
I laugh. “Right, of course.”
Oliver gives me a bear hug before he heads upstairs. I grab my textbook and join a few of the girls from my program who are there with their books already open, chatting about the upcoming test. I hurry over and sit, cracking my book open to join in the discussion.
We’re all scribbling away when Danielle walks in with drink trays in her hands.
“Hey, sorry I’m late.” We set a meeting time in the group chat for a reason. “I brought caffeine!” Danielle sets the drinks down on the counter and throws her brown curls into a messy bun before passing them out. She sits next to me and hands me a cup before taking a sip from her own.
“Thanks,” I say with a smile, and tip the cup to my lips.
“My pleasure.” She returns the smile and opens her book, glancing over at mine to find her place. I’ve got respect for this girl. She can party, as she did at the first kegger of the semester, but when it counts, she can focus on school.
I take another sip before returning my attention to my textbook.
“So, are we all ready for this test?” Danielle asks.
A collective groan sounds around the room.
Hours later, I’m shuffling down the hallway, headed for bed with a unsettled stomach, an all too familiar sign I’ve consumed too much caffeine today. My eyes burn—it’s a struggle to keep them open. A constant side effect of college life. I even missed the Halloween party one of Oliver’s friends threw last week, needing to catch up on sleep instead.
Allison is asleep in our room when I close the door and drop my bag at my desk before crawling under the sheets. I can’t be bothered to change out of my clothes; I imagine it’s unnatural how fast sleep pulls me under.
I don’t know how long I’m asleep before my eyes shoot open and an agony-filled scream tears its way up my throat. I clutch my chest as it burns with such a fierce pain I think I’m going to faint.
Allison is at my side in a second, having thrown herself out of bed when I started screaming.
“Aurora.” She tries to grab my wrists and pry them away from my chest, but I hold strong, groaning in pain. “What’s happening?” Her tone is frantic, but I can’t do anything. I can’t speak, not that it would matter—I have no idea what’s wrong with me.
I cry out as the sharpness claws deeper, and Allison’s eyes widen. I thrash against the sheets, and the moment my arms slip away from my chest, Allison pushes my shirt out of the way to look. When she curses, I know it’s bad.
Panic clamps down on my burning chest as I squeeze my eyes shut.
“Aurora, this is bad.” She shakes her head, her eyes flicking over my face. “I have to call him. I don’t know what else to do.”
“Don’t,” I bite out through clenched teeth. “I’m . . . fine.”
“You’re not fine,” she snaps. “You have fae poison coursing through you.” She grabs my hand and squeezes it. “I’ll be right back.”
My breaths are quick and short as I try to fight through the pain. My vision blurs, ebbing in and out, and I know that isn’t a good sign. I should be freaking out, but I don’t feel anything.
I close my eyes for a second; I think. They snap open when cool hands grip my shoulders, shaking gently. Tristan is kneeling at the side of my bed.
“Aurora.” His voice is soft, urgent. “You need to keep your eyes open for me, sweetheart.”
I think I manage to nod as my eyes drift shut again. Did he call me sweetheart? Maybe it’s because I feel like I’m dying, but I like the sound of it.
“Aurora,” he repeats, sharper this time, as he tilts my chin up.
Blinking a few times, I try to focus on his face. The pain in my chest is spreading.
“Are you going to help her?” I hear Allison ask.
I watch his face as his jaw tightens, and my heart sinks when he says, “I can’t.” He glances over his shoulder at her. “Not here.”
“Tristan, please.” She says in a small voice. “Whatever it takes. Please.”
I try to swallow, but my throat is too dry. He drops his hands and scoops me into his arms without any effort. His eyes meet mine for a brief moment before the room around me shifts.
I’m still shivering when Tristan’s bedroom materializes, and I grip his wrists, struggling to breathe as the weight of the situation tugs at me. He peers at me and frowns, his eyes wild and his mouth set in a thin line. He cradles me in his arms and walks over to the large four-poster bed I woke up on in my dream. When he sets me on the black silk sheets, I want to close my eyes.
Yeah, this isn’t looking good.
“Do you remember what you told me when we met?” he asks.
His question surprises me, but I try to recall that day. After thinking about it, I lift my eyes to meet his and nod.
“Tell me.”
My jaw is clenched against the pain; I don’t think I can speak. If I open my mouth, I’m afraid I’ll scream again.
“Aurora,” he says. “Tell me.”
I close my eyes and force my jaw to unclench. “I told you I wasn’t going to die here,” I say, the words slow to come out.
“And you’re not.”
My eyes open at the sound of his voice. “How?” I whisper, and my voice cracks. He sounds so sure, and yet I feel as though I’m breaking apart in front of him.
He lifts his hand and brushes the hair away from my face, tucking it behind my ear. “I’m going to fix this. I’m going to make it better.”
I manage to nod. “Okay.”
“Okay,” he repeats.
His expression focuses as he lifts my shirt over my head. I try not to wince, but the pain is excruciating. I suck in a sharp breath when I see my chest. Black veins run under my skin, circling my stomach and disappearing under my bra, which Tristan makes no move to take off.
He presses his palm flat against my skin above my belly button, and I hold my breath, my lips pressed together. “I need you to breathe, sweetheart,” he murmurs.
Letting out a slow breath, I watch his hand shift upward. The pain fades eventually, and so do the shivers, but the black veins running under my skin remain.
“You can close your eyes now,” Tristan says in a gentle tone as he stands. “I’ll be right back.”
I watch him leave the room and wait, eyes open, until he returns to my side.
He kneels and looks at me, his expression soft. “Close your eyes.”