I glance over at his desk. “What are you doing up so late?”
His eyes flicker across my face in the dim light. “I spoke to Allison while you were asleep. She knows you’re okay. I don’t take what happened tonight lightly. I will find out who is behind this, and there will be consequences.” The tang of anger radiating from him makes me frown. I miss the light emotions he was giving off a few minutes ago.
“You think it was one of your fae?” I ask, masking my surprise at his reaction to the situation. I’m not fae—not his to protect.
“No, I know it wasn’t.”
“Then I’m not sure why you think—”
His anger rises, but his calm and collected expression holds. If I weren’t privy to his emotions, I wouldn’t notice the shift. “They won’t get away with harming you, Aurora. Whoever ordered this action knows you’re significant. That’s why it happened.”
I swallow. “I don’t understand why.”
“Don’t be naive.” His breath tickles my cheek, a reminder of how close he is. “You know I care about you.” The worry and attraction swirling inside him become muddled, making my head spin. I need to figure out a way to turn this off.
Swallowing, I say, “I’m not naive. I knew there was something, or you would’ve figured out another way to approach the situation after you couldn’t wipe my memories.” I shrug, still pretty drowsy. “And I—” I clamp my mouth shut before I say anything. I’m not sure what I was going to say, considering my mind is still caught on the whole I care about you thing. “I understand,” I say. If I can feel his emotions right now, he can feel mine. I don’t have to to say it back.
“Good.”
I shake my head. “Not good.” My throat tingles as if I’m going to hurl. My stomach feels heavy, and my pulse is uneven. “Someone wants me dead.” The words have to fight to make it through the chattering of my teeth. Clenching my jaw to try to make it stop, I watch Tristan’s eyes focus on my face.
“Aurora, you’re okay.”
My eyes sting as I hold back tears, gripping the blanket around me tighter. It’s all too much. I can feel my heartbeat in my throat as black spots dance across my line of sight, and my ears ring. The light fae want to kill me; Tristan is acting . . . not like the Tristan I’ve come to tolerate; Allison is putting herself in danger; my brother has cancer again, and I can’t even think about school.
“Hey.” His smooth, certain voice brings me back from the edge. His hand is on my shoulder. “Breathe.”
I stare at him, and he nods.
“Take a deep breath for me, Rory.”
Rory. I say it over in my head. That’s new.
I inhale, and all I can smell is him. Fresh, warm . . . comforting.
“Good girl,” he praises. “Now again.”
I hold his gaze, standing so close I can count his eyelashes. The pressure in my chest eases, and my throat isn’t so tight I can’t breathe. My grip on the blanket loosens as I exhale again, and my pulse returns to a normal pace.
His eyes flick back and forth across my face. “Okay?”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “I’m good,” I say, placing my hand over where his still rests on my shoulder. “Thank you.”
His lips curl into the most genuine smile I’ve ever seen from him when he lets his hand fall back to his side. “How are you feeling now? Are you up for a late dinner?”
“What were you thinking? I don’t eat, uh, emotions.”
“Though you seem to be enjoying the fact you can sense mine.” He licks his bottom lip. “Anything you want, name it. I don’t have to feed on emotions all the time, just enough to keep me alive. I can feed once a week, and it’s plenty. That’s to say, I eat human food, too.”
I catch my lower lip between my teeth. “You never talk about it.”
“About what?”
“Feeding. Being fae.”
His forehead creases. “I wasn’t aware you wanted to hear about it.”
My cheeks heat. “I’m saying you can talk about it. It’s not going to freak me out.” I need to stop talking.
His eyes lighten as pleasant surprise flares through the new bond we share. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Oh-kay.” The word comes out more like two words.
He tilts his head. “You’re quite the human.”
There goes my pulse again. “Did you just meet me?”
He chuckles. “It feels like I’ve known you much longer.”
That brings an unexpected smile to my lips. “Yeah, I guess you’re not so terrible yourself.”
“All right, smart mouth. Let’s see what we can find in the kitchen.”
I drape the blanket over a chair and follow him out of the office.
Tonight is not going how I thought it would.
It’s been a week and a half since Tristan saved my life and showed me a different side to the fae leader I’ve been dealing with. I still think about it every day. I go to class and think about him. I sit in my room doing homework and think about him; there aren’t many times I’m not thinking about him. I have no idea what to do, so I’ve decided to avoid it—and by it, I mean Tristan. As much as possible. He’s respected me and stayed out of my dreams, but when I’m awake, I’m never sure when I’m going to see him.
As the days pass, fewer and fewer of his emotions seep through. The ones that do are a mixture of worry, anger, and uncertainty, as if maybe he’s trying to figure something out. It’s rare he feels anything light or warm. Considering the constant pressure he’s under, it’s understandable.
One day, I can’t sense his emotions at all. Part of me is relieved, but hell, it was interesting knowing I had a leg up on at least one of his fae abilities for a handful of days. Oh, well. I’ll take being human over being able to read emotions any day. Even with the absence of his emotions, I still think about him way too much.
At the hotel on Monday, I almost kiss Skylar when she tells me Tristan is out of the office all day. I don’t because I value my life, but the heavy sense of relief that pours over me is borderline embarrassing.
“Tristan wanted to talk to you about something,” she says.
I hesitate before asking, “What . . . uh, what did he want to talk to me about?”
“Westbrook Inc. hosts a charity gala every year, and he wants you to spearhead the planning of the event.”
“Are you serious?” Excitement bubbles through me. An event like this would look amazing on my resume.
She gives me a look.
“Wow. I mean, this is awesome. I would love to.” I make a mental note to text Allison when I get a break. We’re going out for drinks tonight to celebrate. Our friendship has been somewhat strained lately with the whole Evan thing, but there’s no one I’d rather toast to this new opportunity with.
“Great.” She feigns enthusiasm. “You’ll be working with me. Max is also on the gala committee along with several other employees, but I’m sure that won’t be a problem, right?”
“Right,” I answer, my voice more uptight than normal. “When do we start?”
“Now, and it’s going to take more than your one day a week here. Can you make that work?”