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Twisted Fate by Jessi Elliott (27)

 

I wake up with the most delicious ache between my legs, and a smile curls my lips before I even open my eyes. Last night was incredible. It felt like something I’ve been waiting my entire life to experience, and it surpassed my expectations of what being with Tristan would be like.

I blink a few times, squinting at the sunlight shining in through the window. With a quick glance beside me, I see Tristan is still asleep. I lie on my side, watching the rise and fall of his chest. I could watch this forever, basking in the normalcy of it, but the longer I lie there thinking about how great last night was, the more panic trickles in. Each passing moment makes it harder to breathe as a clear picture forms in my head. The light and pleasant feeling I had when I woke up is gone, replaced with a pit of unease in my stomach. Even while looking at Tristan’s calm and relaxed face, all I can think about is Jules plotting his next attack in his grand plan to destroy Tristan and rule the entire fae race. My chest tightens, and I fight the urge to reach over and touch his face. I don’t want to wake him.

Sliding off the bed, I head into the bathroom, pulling my clothes back on and tying my hair up. I peek over to the bed, relieved to find him still asleep, then slip out of the room. I grab my jacket and bag, putting on my shoes at the entryway before I step onto the elevator and ride down to the lobby of the hotel.

There’s a good chance I’m the only girl who has left Tristan Westbrook alone, naked in his bed, after a night of mind-blowing sex, but I have to do this.

It’s not even ten o’clock, so the lobby is empty aside from a few employees. I wave to the concierge on my way out the door and get on the streetcar heading toward campus.

After I take the fastest shower I’ve ever had, I change into black leggings, a sweater, and boots. I pull a comb through my hair and tie it back so it’s out of the way. Standing in front of my desk, I hesitate before I open the bottom drawer and grab the iron stakes. The night Tristan and I met, he confirmed the myth about fae and how iron is poisonous to them.

I slide one into each of my boots and another one at the back of my leggings. I hold the last one in my hand for a moment and slide it up my shirt, securing it between my breasts. I hope my bra will keep it in place until I need to use it. I pull on my jacket, check the time on my phone before tossing it onto my bed, and walk out of my room.

When I woke up this morning, I knew where Jules was. Maybe he wanted me to know where he is. Maybe he screwed with my head more than I can remember. The smart thing to do would be to call Tristan and tell him where Jules is, but I need to do this for myself. This whole thing—the fae war—isn’t about me, but the moment Jules messed with my life, my feelings, it became about me on some level. He made it personal when he decided to manipulate me and feed on my emotions, and now he’s going to answer for what he did.

Campus is quiet as I walk across it to where Jules is—in the basement of his pub. I’m not surprised to find the door unlocked even though it isn’t open yet. My heart hammers in my chest as I step inside. The place is empty, televisions off, and chairs on tables. My shoes feel like they weigh a thousand pounds each as I walk across the old wood floor toward the basement stairs. I hesitate before reaching for the door handle, my mind racing through the ways this scenario could end. I push them away, knowing it’s too late to think about that now.

My eyes do a quick scan of the space. It appears to be a simple basement storage area that’s been partially converted into a hangout space. Boxes cover half of the room, while the other half has been decorated with an antique-looking rug to cover the concrete, some old couches, and a coffee table, along with a couple of rolling chairs.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he isn’t here.

“I have to say, I didn’t think you’d come alone,” Jules says, walking out of another room at a relaxed pace. He looks at ease, no creases in his forehead, no sharp, calculating expression.

My jaw clenches at his cliché line. “No one else could be bothered to deal with your pathetic ass,” I say, my tone laced with sarcasm.

He tilts his head to the side, his eyes wandering over my face. “I’m surprised you came at all, especially after Evan took you back to Tristan. It’s a shame I had to kill him for helping you. He didn’t know what loyalty was.”

My eyes widen, and the sting of tears surprises me. I was never crazy about Evan, but he helped me get away from Jules, and I’m grateful for that. He didn’t deserve to die. “What do you know about loyalty?”

He smirks, ignoring my remark. “Why are you here?”

I bark out a laugh. “I need to spell it out for you?”

He prowls closer, stopping a foot away, making my back stiffen. “I want to hear you say it,” he says.

I swallow. “You used me.”

“It was never about you, Aurora, not really.”

I shake my head. “The light and dark fae can coexist. You and Tristan can lead together.”

“You don’t get it.” He swipes his hand through his hair. “I won’t lead with someone. I want the fae race to grow, become more powerful, and to do so, they need a leader that’ll do anything to make that happen. They need me.”

“You’re insane if you think Tristan’s people would follow you if you kill him. They’ll destroy you for it and make all of your people watch.”

It’s silent for several moments, and then he sighs. The soft sound makes my blood run cold. He slams me into the wall. I cry out, seeing stars.

He shoves his hand up my sweater and rips the iron stake out, growling as it burns his skin, and tosses it across the room. It clatters against the cement floor. I wince, trying to break free of his grasp. “It’s a shame,” he says, tightening his grip on me. “This could’ve gone a different way, Aurora.”

“I doubt that,” I say through my teeth, shoving him hard.

He backs up a couple of steps, a dark smirk plastered on his lips. “So, you came here to kill me?” he lifts his arms out, palms up. “Have at it,” he taunts, letting his arms fall back to his sides.

I bend and pull the iron stake out of my left boot, holding it in a tight grip.

Jules laughs, flicking his gaze from my face to the weapon in my hand. “Did you stop at the hardware store on your way here?”

I step forward, swiping the air in front of him so he’ll move back a few more strides. I circle around him and kick out with my right leg, but he catches it, pulling the other iron stake out of my boot. Fuck.

He pushes me back, and I almost lose my balance, managing to catch my footing at the last second.

“I’m curious, Aurora. Do you believe you can win this fight?”

“I have to,” I growl. “I will.”

Jules charges forward, throwing me to the ground and holding me there. “I’m almost sorry,” he murmurs, trailing his fingers along my jaw. “You might be my one regret.”

I choke on the lump in my throat and try to push him off. I knee him in the stomach over and over, but it doesn’t faze him.

The pity in his eyes makes me want to hurl, and then he slams me against the cement floor again, making me suck in a sharp breath.

I lift my leg and kick him in the groin as hard as I can, screaming at the top of my lungs when he rolls off of me and onto his back with a loud groan. I throw myself on top of him and wrap my fingers around his throat with one hand, using the other to grab my last iron stake out of the back of my leggings.

“You’ve got quite the collection,” he grumbles. “I guess that’s smart, considering the crowd you choose to spend time with.”

“Shut up,” I shout, tightening my grip around his neck, digging my nails into his skin. Claws would be more convenient; I could slash his throat, his chest, the soft, charming face that made me befriend him, that made me trust him.

In a second, he has us flipped over, and now he’s on top again, holding my arms at my sides. “You’re making this too easy.” He leans down until his lips brush my ear, which makes my stomach clench. “Do you think Tristan feels bad for what he’s put you through?”

I buck my hips, trying to get him off, but all it does is exhaust me.

“He should, you know. If it weren’t for him, I’d have had no reason to enter your life.”

I stop. “What?

He cocks his head to the side. “You were always part of the plan, Aurora. From the day we met.” He grasps my chin in his hand and guides my face up until our eyes meet. “I’m the reason you were taken from that party instead of Allison.”

My mouth goes dry. My ears ring, and my vision falters. A panic attack has never hit me so hard, so fast.

“I set you in Max’s path.”

“Stop,” I say, my voice cracking.

“I’ve been watching you for a long time. I got to know everything about you. You were the perfect pawn. I knew the dark’s beloved leader would be taken with you. It was only a matter of time before he fell for you. It was you falling for him in return that worried me in the beginning. Especially with the whole kidnapping thing. But look how that turned out.” The sly twist of his lips makes my blood run hot with rage.

I glare at his passive, relaxed expression. “So, what the hell does Allison have to do with it?”

“I sent Evan to corrupt her allegiance. I needed her to break a rule in order for Tristan to send someone after her.”

“How did you know I would be close enough to her for that to work?” I don’t know why I ask, but the words tumble out of my mouth. “What would’ve happened if she didn’t fall for Evan?”

He grins. “Allison was easy to manipulate, and you met her because I made it happen that way.”

My brows inch closer. “You’re saying this was in the works before I knew her?”

He nods. “Immortality has its perks. I’ve been planning this for some time.”

Oh my god. The day Allison caught him checking me out in first year. She knew who he was. It makes sense now. That’s why she warned me off him, and why she never tagged along when our friends wanted to eat at Taylor’s Brew.

Everything I’ve experienced over the past three years has been for some scheme for power? Was anything real? My feelings for Tristan? Oh god. My friendship with Allison? How much is my own and not a byproduct of Jules’s plot to rule the fae?

Tears blur my vision. “He will destroy you,” I say through my teeth.

He laughs, and then the snap of bone echoes in my ear. My left arm explodes with such intense pain, black spots dot my vision, and a scream rips from my throat. He frowns, but his eyes hold a sick glimmer of amusement.

The room blurs, and I fight to keep my eyes open. I refuse to pass out, and by the frustrated, borderline angry expression on the face above me, I’d say that’s exactly what Jules wants me to do.

“You shouldn’t have come alone,” he says with a snarl.

I bark out a laugh. “You really wanted to see Tristan, didn’t you?” I wince as the throbbing in my arm intensifies. “Do you have a thing for him or something?” Sarcasm laces my tone. Good. At least I’m holding on to my wit. “I don’t blame you. He’s hot.”

Jules growls and wraps his fingers around my injured arm, squeezing hard, and I scream.

“Where’s your fire now?” he taunts.

I close my eyes, hot tears rolling out of the corners. I bite my lower lip hard so I’ll stop screaming. If I’m going to die, I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing the devastation course through me. I’ve experienced too much over the last six months from learning about the fae to losing my brother in one of the most human ways possible. I can’t do it anymore.

“Are you giving up?” he whispers in a cold voice. There’s a moment where his grip on my wrists loosens. I’ve been waiting for it with bated breath. When it happens, I rip my right arm free and raise it, ready to slam it into his chest.

“Wait!” he shouts, a smile creeping onto his lips. “I can bring your brother back.”

My whole world stops. My arm freezes halfway to where the stake was heading for his chest, and I snarl. “You bastard! You don’t know anything!” There’s no way to bring Adam back. His body was burned to ashes the day after he died.

He nods. “Touché, Aurora.”

I growl and drive the iron stake into his ribcage.

He cries out in pain, a sound so excruciating, I want to cover my ears. He falls, rolling off of me, but still holds my broken wrist in a weak grip. “There she is,” he mumbles.

His mouth forms a perfect o, his eyes widening in shock before they close for the last time.

My eyes snap to where his fingers remain wrapped around my wrist when the contact starts burning. It becomes unbearable, but I can’t get free. Tingles shoot up my arm, traveling to the rest of my body, and my heart pounds in a panicked frenzy. Fire races through my veins, burning everything in its path. I throw my head back, screaming in agony that seems to last forever.

The pain is slow to recede. I’ve cried my eyes dry and my throat raw. I manage to pull my wrist free from Jules’s lifeless grasp, and everything goes dark.

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