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“Kyla?”
“Yes?”
He swallowed hard.
“Hungry?”
She didn’t answer.
“Do you need anything?”
Her lips parted but no words came out.
He didn’t know how much more of this he could take, “Snap out of it.”
She continued to stare at the ceiling.
“Look at me,” he demanded.
She complied.
“Snap out of it. Come back to me.” He said this staring deep, hoping he had the power to mesmerize her back.
She blinked at him. An eternity passed while he searched her eyes, looking deep, looking for the girl he loved.
“Please, baby,” he pleaded in a whisper.
Nothing.
“Go to sleep,” he muttered, finally.
She blinked slowly, twice, and then her eyes closed and stayed that way. Not even a moment later her breathing evened out, like a fucking Stepford wife.
He walked downstairs and drank the rest of the bottle while standing in the kitchen and then found a half empty bottle of whisky in a kitchen cupboard and drank that, too.
Hours later he fell asleep slumped over in the chair by the fireplace.-2-Three Days LaterTristan glared at the door, willing whoever it was on the other side knocking to fuck right off.
“Tristan?” Sam called out.
He supposed he had to meet the asshole’s eyes to will him away. He was pretty sure he now had that power.
Tristan glanced at the lock, willed it to turn and then made it open. Both happened instantly. This was new, since he’d turned her. He hadn’t done that, removing or creating barriers with anyone other than her, and only when he’d been tweaked. He felt like he was in a permanent state of tweaked, of pissed, of ready to fucking snap at any second. The only thing keeping him subdued was the need to protect her.
Sam stood, hesitantly, in the doorway, staring at Tristan sitting in a chair that faced the door.
“Food already came, man. What?”
There had been a daily delivery of supplies. Pre-cooked meals that just needed to be heated, blood bags, and booze. The day before someone had come in to clean, which he’d allowed but kept Kyla beside him while the housekeeper was in, his fangs descended the entire time. Other than that, he’d been left alone.
“Where is she?” Sam stepped in cautiously.
“Upstairs.”
“Any chance you want to talk?”
Tristan shook his head.
“Man, I see that you’re hurting. But see, if you could---”
“Dead.”
“Pardon?”
“Dead inside. Not hurting. Dead.”
“Bro.”
Fuck that pity.
“What do you want?”
“What’s goin’ on, Tris? Talk to me.” Sam shut the door.
“Fuck no. Go.” He said this without looking at Sam.
“I’m on your side here. I---”
Tristan was suddenly in Sam’s space, “Oh yeah? How exactly are you on my side? You were honest with me? You didn’t lie to me for years about shit? You didn’t use your subtle programming skills to influence my actions, decisions I made?”
Sam winced.
“Yeah, I know. I know your fucking game. You find your opportunities, usually when I’m frazzled and that’s when you get in my fuckin’ ear. That’s when you drop your suggestions. It’s all crystal clear now, man. What if I were to get in your ear and suggest that you slit yourself straight up from your belly to your chin?”
“Is that what you want me to do?”
“If it is?”
“Honest to Christ I’m on your side. I’ve told you this. I know that I have things to be sorry for and guilty of lies of omission? Yeah, I know. But, I was given a directive. I’ve always tried to walk the line between being your friend and doing my job. It wasn’t easy. Believe me when I tell you this has been a much harder gig than I ever expected. I respect you. Always have. All I did was follow directions. I kept an eye on her and then delivered her and I reported on what I saw. I’m sorry that you see it as betrayal. I get it. I’d feel the same, I’m sure. It’s how things are done with royals. Every royal gets their concierge who arranges their enchanted pet and that’s what I did, arranged it for you but according to directions, according to protocol, protocol that’s followed for every single royal and protocol that was watched extra-closely due to just how royal you are. The caveat was her. She isn’t just an average enchanted pet. She was chosen for you before she was even born. I was kept on a need-to-know basis but I tried to help wherever I could, when you needed me to, nudged when I saw the need to. But always with your best interests at heart. Truth, man. Serious. I think I may even be able to help you here but first I think maybe if you talk to Adrian, let him run a few tests, and then we get home and there I can research a few things. See how I can help…”
Tristan took a swig of booze from a near-empty bottle that sat beside another empty bottle.
