“Oh, Trystan…”
I’d done this to him.
His head cocked like a rabid dog’s. Then he stepped forward.
“Little dove,” he said.
Gods. Even his voice sounded different. Raspy, deeper, and purely terrifying.
“You found me,” he said, smiling. But that wasn’t Trystan’s smile. That was the smile of a psychopath. Selene was right. He was well and truly gone.
“You asked me to, remember?” I made sure to stay calm, so as not to upset him.
“Did I?” He cocked his head the other way. “I did, didn’t I? And you came. My sweet, precious, Isadora.”
The way he said my name made my skin crawl. There was no affection in it. Nothing that would suggest we’d spent a hundred years together. It was almost like he was reciting something he’d memorized but no longer understood.
“Where’s Ella?” I asked.
Confusion dimmed the crimson haze in his eyes, almost like he had no idea who I was asking about.
“Ella Black?” I repeated. “The witch you’ve been working with. Where is she?”
His confusion deepened. Then, a moment later, he blinked and waved a lazy hand. “She’s around.”
Vague and ominous. I didn’t like that.
“Trystan,” I said carefully. “Where is she?”
“I said she’s around,” he snapped, a growl vibrating beneath his words. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”
Okay. Single-minded focus.
“You’re not well,” I told him gently. “But I can help you, if you’ll let me.” I hoped.
“I don’t need help,” he said. “I just need you.”
He closed the distance between us in a blink. I flinched before I could stop myself. He moved like a monster in a man’s skin. He clamped his hands around my arms, cold and clammy, and backed me against the wall. I hit it with a quiet thud.
He leaned down and inhaled a breath at my throat. “You’re mine.”
I didn’t correct him for fear it would set him off. Instead, I focused on the outcome I wanted. Selene, Lucien, Ricky…they all felt Trystan needed to die. And I understood their logic. But standing in front of him now, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was some other way I could help him. He was not in his right mind.
“Trystan, you need to stop this. You’re scaring people. You’re scaring me,” I murmured. “Let me take you out of here and bring you somewhere safe.”
He pulled back just enough to stare at me. His pupils dilated, then narrowed to slits. “You said you were mine. But then you said you weren’t mine. You broke us. Broke me.”
Panic fluttered in my chest.
“I didn’t like that,” he announced, each word pronounced carefully.
“I know,” I said softly, my spine flush against the wall.
“You ran.” His voice dropped to a guttural whisper. “You left me like I was nothing. And then my mind…my mind.” He blinked and shook his head. “It hurts. I think…I think I became this because of you.”
I didn’t speak.
“I tried to fix it,” he rasped, hands gripping my upper arms until they hurt. “Tried to fix me. I went to Ella, but she couldn’t help. She gave me things. Potions. Spells. Blood.” His eyes flicked upward, distant, as though struggling to recall everything. “I drank so much blood, kept drinking until she stopped moving, but it never tasted right. Nothing did. Not without you. But you’re here now.”
