Twisted Fate (Twisted #1)

“If it’ll make my best friend happy, I’ll do it. But that’s me. I doubt it’ll be enough for Tristan to listen to you.”

“But there’s a chance, so I have to try.”

“Look, maybe the two of you should just take some time away from each other. At least until things get—”

“Better?” he cuts in with a sharp laugh. “We’re close to war, Aurora. Things are going to get a hell of a lot worse before there’s even a chance of them getting better.”

“What happens if Tristan says no? Are you going to stop seeing Allison, or are you going to take the chance of her getting punished?” It occurs to me that I don’t know whether Evan would get punished by Jules, or whether the light leader even cares that he’s with one of the dark fae.

“Then we’ll figure something else out.” He meets my gaze. “Tell me you’ll try. Please.”

I inhale slowly through my nose, and let the air out through my mouth. “I’ll try.”

He nods. “Thank you.”

I drop my gaze. “You should go.”

He steps back, heading for the door. “It was lovely to meet you, Aurora. Your reputation precedes you, and I must say, it’s remarkably accurate.” His lips curve upward. “I’ll see you around,” he says and leaves.

I stare at the back of the door, my mind reeling with what Evan said, and what I agreed to do.




I make a point never to be late for class. I consider it practice for the real world. If I’m late for work, that says I’m not dedicated to my job. This morning would be no different except I sleep through all three of my alarms. I’ve been in a state of exhaustion since being poisoned. I don’t know whether it’s remnants of fae magic running through my veins that makes it difficult to keep my eyes open all day, but I’m sleeping more often and longer than usual.

When I do wake up, I grab my phone to check the time. My loud groan fills the empty room. Allison didn’t wake me before she left; that’s if she slept here last night.

Throwing my comforter off, I force myself out of bed. I pull a comb through my tangled waves and brush my teeth while trying to throw together a presentable outfit. I’m out the door with a breakfast bar and my bag in less than fifteen minutes and all but sprint across campus. I’m still half an hour late. Of course, today’s class is held in the largest lecture hall, and my professor has a guest speaker scheduled.

As I approach the double doors, I pray for an open seat along the back row that I can sneak into without interrupting. I silence my phone and slip it into my bag before I hold my breath and open the door. I tiptoe in and scan the room. A couple of heads turn when the door shuts. I hurry to an empty seat, three rows from the front of the room, which means everyone watches as I make my way to it.

Once I’m seated and have my laptop on the small fold-out desk in front of me, I let out a slow breath.

“Glad you could join us, Aurora,” Richard, my business finance professor says.

“I’m so—” Words stop forming the moment my eyes shift to the guest speaker. Fuck. “Sorry.”

Tristan stands at the podium, front and center, grinning like a cat in his usual business attire. “As I was saying . . .”

Sliding down in my seat as if my laptop could hide me, I pray to anyone who will listen that this lecture ends early.

It becomes apparent that no one is listening to me when over an hour passes before Richard announces a break before the second half of the presentation. I groan and whip out my phone to occupy myself. Now would be the time to gather my things and get the hell out of here, but if I leave, I’ll never hear the end of it from Tristan.

“He’s so young looking, so attractive—it’s unfair,” the girl beside me squeals to the girl next to her.

“Unfair? It’s inhuman. Jesus, if he was our professor, I wouldn’t miss a single lecture. In fact, I’d apply for extra credit assignments”—she pauses—“with lots of after-hours work.”

“Mmm, me too,” the first girl gushes.

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 at her.”

I don’t have to look up to know the her they’re referring to is me. Keeping my head down, I stare hard at my phone screen.

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. Something tells me 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.

My phone vibrates, and I glance down at the screen. I have a new message from my mom, giving me an update on Adam’s chemo treatment. She says, “So far so good.” Adam is taking it like a champ, which I knew he would. Still, an ache blossoms in my chest. I wish I were there with him through this. My parents are doing the best they can while still working full-time, and I visit as often as my course load will allow. Adam doesn’t want me to fall behind by staying in Mapleville too long. He’s always trying to put everyone else before himself. He’s the most compassionate twelve-year-old I’ve met.

I’m still typing my mom a reply when I notice people leaving. The room empties, and I attempt to throw my things into my bag to follow them 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. Leaving my bag at my seat, I make my way to the front while Richard and the remaining students chat on their way out of the room.

Tristan is packing 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.

“What was this morning about?” he asks, zipping up his fancy leather bag.

I look over at him and shrug. “I was late.” I should tell him about Evan stopping by and what he said, but here doesn’t seem like the place to talk about it.

He 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 as I recall I didn’t have time to put on any makeup before I sprinted to class. “I’m tired. It’s no big deal.”

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