Twisted Fate (Twisted #1)

My heart races at the intention behind his words. “It’s called being human. You’ve tried it, remember?”

“That’s right.” He blinks, and I stagger back, free of his hold. “It’s a shame that didn’t work out, but college can be so dull.”

My forehead creases. “So then you know what it’s like to spend time with you.” Ah, there’s the inappropriately timed witty comment. Well done, Aurora.

He sucks in a breath that almost sounds like a laugh. “Maybe you need more time to think about my offer.” His eyes flash with an unprecedented anger, and I barely catch sight of his fist before the sickening sight of him goes black.

I blink a few times, my head already pounding, and my ears ringing. I spit out a mouthful of blood before I gag on it and groan.

“You hit her?” Evan says, but his voice sounds far away.

Jules grumbles. “Put her back in the other room. I’ve got shit to deal with.”

I watch his shoes as he walks out, and I barely see Evan approach before my eyes shut on their own.




When I pry open my eyes this time, I recognize the room around me. I’m in Tristan’s bedroom. I struggle to keep my eyes open long enough to see him sitting on the end of the bed and watching me with an angry, dark expression. His hair is a mess. It looks like he hasn’t brushed it in days.

“What . . . ?” I stop. My head is spinning so fast I have to squeeze my eyes shut, or I’m going to throw up.

Tristan shifts closer and lays his hand across my forehead. The dizziness recedes enough for me to open my eyes again and look at him. He brushes the hair away from my face and assesses my appearance.

“Am I dreaming? How did I get here?” I ask, trying to figure it out in my head. There’s a chunk of time missing, but I can’t fill in the blanks.

His jaw clenches, and I wish I hadn’t asked. “You don’t remember?” he murmurs, his eyes on me. “This isn’t a dream, Rory. Evan brought you back to us a few hours ago.”

I shake my head, confused and unsure whether I’m able to speak anymore.

“You know Grant Taylor, yes?” he checks, his voice clipped.

My throat goes dry, and I force another nod. “Is he okay?” I ask in a small voice. Grant and I aren’t all that close, but since I met him in class last semester, he’s been a good friend.

His eyes darken. “I imagine you didn’t know that he’s fae. Or that Grant isn’t his real name. It’s Jules.”

My eyes widen, and no words come out when I open my mouth.

“I didn’t think so,” he says. “It would seem that he has been—” Tristan stops, clenching his fists in his lap. It’s like the night I was poisoned all over again. I can feel the anger rumbling through him like dark, violent waves, and I immediately want to make it stop.

My hand is shaking, but I reach over and place it over his fist. “Tristan,” I whisper.

He sighs heavily and looks at me. “The bastard has been feeding off of you.”

I play that sentence over in my head, and then I lean over the side of the bed and hurl.

When my stomach calms down, housekeeping comes to clean up the mess, and Tristan and I sit in his living room. The fireplace casts dim light on the room, reflecting off the prints of the hotel on his walls.

“This whole time . . .” I trail off. “I’ve been friends with him since before I met you. I’ve spent time with him all semester, and I didn’t know he was the leader of the light fae, that he was your enemy.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, putting his arm around my shoulders.

I lean against him and try to take a few deep breaths. “I think it’s coming back, Tris,” I whisper, squeezing my eyes shut as images of me attacking Evan and memories of Jules feeding of off me play over in my head like a twisted movie.

“Shh,” he soothes. “Listen to me, sweetheart. Listen to my voice. You’re okay. Keep breathing.” He runs his hand up and down my arm, trying to help me through the montage from hell.

The pictures stop, and all I want to do is kill Jules for what he did to me. Some things are still blurry, like how I got here. I remember being in the back of a car and someone carrying me into the back entrance of the hotel. I don’t understand why Evan brought me back.

“It’s all right, Rory,” Tristan says, grazing my cheek with the back of his hand. “You’re safe now. We’ll figure this out, and then I’ll deal with that bastard. You need to rest and recharge.” He lifts my chin until our eyes meet. “I gave you my blood so that you’d be up to par faster, but you should eat something.”

My stomach churns, and bile rises in my throat at the idea of trying to put food in my body. “I’m not sure I can.”

“You can,” he insists. “You’ll get through it, I promise you.”

I don’t say anything else, but after a moment, I nod.

I find it difficult to remember what my life was like before the fae. When I think about Jules’s offer to give me that life back, I know I could never take it. I can’t give this life up. I can’t give Tristan up. I won’t.

All I can do is hope he feels the same about me.





I spend the following days staying at the Westbrook Hotel, sleeping in Tristan’s bed at night, and working in the office when I’m not in class or studying. He’s calling it an internship now that I’ve finished my placement. I’m glad most of the employees don’t seem to have any issues with me hanging around.

I’ve come to enjoy working with Skylar, even if she does still boss me around. I think we’ve both decided to pretend that night she helped me in the shower after Adam died didn’t happen, and I’m grateful for it.

Max is still a total asshole, but I accept that as his nature now. I’ve tagged along with him and Oliver at lunch a couple of times since the two of them became an item. It’s taken a while, but I can look at Max and see someone separate from the fae who kidnapped and almost killed me all those months ago. Oliver doesn’t know any of this, or anything about the fae, and I’m glad Max plans to keep it that way.

It’s been three days since I was returned from Jules’s clutches, and we have yet to hear from him. No epic battle has broken out; no more dark fae have been killed. Nothing has happened. I think we’re all going a bit crazy waiting for something. I’ve tried to think about the time I spent with him, as hard as that is, to remember exactly what happened, but I haven’t come up with anything.

In the office boardroom, I glance up from the stack of papers on the table in front of me when the door flies open, and Allison charges in with determination in her eyes.

“We have a problem,” she says, setting her hands on her hips. Allison has been spending time at the hotel since she ended things with Evan over his involvement when Jules kept me captive. I think him helping me escape was his way of trying to make things right, but Allison didn’t care. I don’t blame her, but I’m also sorry she got hurt. She didn’t deserve that.

“Is it a dire emergency? I’m swamped with paperwork right now, but we can get drinks later and chat.”

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