Chapter 7 Being with Tristan
Zara’s POV
If I could go back in time to make Tristan perform the Scarlet Ascension, and make things normal at this point.
I wouldn't be this worried and betrayed.
Even if I did go back in time, it didn't seem like he would have listened to me. His thoughts would still be the same.
My hand pressed too hard on the doorknob. It creaked open to reveal Lila and the human girl’s eyes locked on me.
“Zara!” Lila leaped from the bed beside Celine, eyes wide. “Have you… been outside the door?”
Her finger jabbed at me, teeth clenched—not from anger at me, but likely at the words she had overheard.
Whatever had been said, it must have been bad to shake her this much.
“Have you been listening?” She asked, walking to me.
But I ignored her at first instance to reach the bed.
Lila froze, and Celine’s gaze pinned me, silent, waiting for me to speak. But all I could do was study her—her posture, her movements, the subtle curves that somehow made her stand out.
Could it really be that?
Or something beyond the physical? I doubted it—after all, I had never considered myself ugly. Never.
Her hazel eyes displayed me like a mirror as proof she was focused on me. My eyes walked down her olive skin so focused that I could almost feel how moist her skin was. Well, she had pointed boobs. I also had those. I could gauge how curvy she was even though she was seated.
I had all these, but Tristan didn't choose me as his mate? Absurd.
And everyone would claim that no one is ever in place to choose a mate.
“Zara?” Lila touched my back.
I snapped back. I didn't realize I'd lost myself studying Celine.
“You have to leave.” Lila said.
I turned back, walking to the door, the grief in me returning in a double fold that my feet felt too heavy.
“Did you hear anything?” Lila asked when I reached the doorpost. “You invaded our privacy!”
“And what if I did?”
She grunted.
And I didn't even hear a word she uttered to Celine. My mind wouldn't let me focus on that. Listening to their discussion wouldn't offer a remedy for Tristan.
I stood at the doorpost of Tristan's room, doing nothing but watching him.
His face… damp and pale, like a faded white shirt left among rags. Cheekbones sharp, lips parted just enough to reveal teeth darkening into fangs.
“Tristan…” I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat refusing to move.
My eyes threatened to betray me, tears threatening to spill like blood. I didn’t have the strength to stop them.
“Tristan?”
He didn't answer.
His eyes were on me, he was staring at me, but those eyes were blank. He couldn't have seen me. I could never get used to episodes of the curse taking control over him.
I sat beside him. Still, he didn't react. The foam depressing on the spot I sat didn't notify him.
My left hand relaxed on his back. “I left everything to come see you… I’m here for you, Tristan.”
Of course he didn't hear. I accepted that. That was part of our reality. But I would still pour out my thoughts to him.
“I saw the girl you called your mate…” I forced a smile, but my eyes betrayed me, wet with tears. “She’s afraid of you… and you still call her your mate.”
I moved to stand where his amber gaze fell, imagining him my audience, hoping my words might pierce the haze of the curse.
“Of what use is a mate if this curse will consume you?”
I waited, knowing he wouldn’t answer.
“She was meant to cure you!” I shouted, voice breaking.
Again, he didn't move, he didn't flinch.
This numbness from him was not strange. It always happened on occasions the curse decided to have its effect. I’d never been used to it, but now, it was worse.
He was getting closer to a feral state.
“Of what use would it be if you lose yourself?”
I stepped backward till my back touched the wall. I crawled downward, refusing to resist the warm line of tears that came down my jaws.
“Tristan… even if you decide she’s your mate… I need you cured of this,” I said with chattering teeth.
The sound of my sobbing filled the room.
“Zara…”
His voice… He pulled my attention. He regained sanity as usual?
“Tristan.” My palms touched his jaws, smiling at him.
“It's not safe that you're here,” he said. “I might become feral at any moment. I would become an aggressive wolf.”
“Yeah… Yeah, I know that.”
The fur in his skin, dark in color, was still out. It was more visible than the way it always was.
“Every sane moment you have… should be with me.”
His eyes cleared. “You want that?”
“Yes. Yes.” I nodded, heart racing. “And I still wonder why you wouldn’t let me come close before.”
He shook his head. “Being near her… it makes the instinct of her being my mate too strong. I cannot bear any other female near me.”
This line of words pierced me, but I waved it off as this moment was too special to spoil by raising tantrums.
“Yeah, I get it.” I chuckled so fake that he noticed. “No wonder you let me touch you now.”
He just nodded. At least I could tell he was sincere.
“And–”
I kissed him. Now that I had this moment, why waste it?
It was pleasing that he wasn't resisting, but he wasn't taking part in it. He let my tongue touch his lips, but wouldn't return the favor.
I would manage, I thought.
“Zara!” Aiden stepped in.
Damn… what a relentless pack healer.
“It’s time,” he said, moving toward us, motioning for me to leave.
No… I couldn’t.
He carried a box—no crosses marked it. Not the usual treatment kit he brought for Tristan. This was different.
“Just go,” he insisted, placing the box on the floor. “It’s time I handle this.”
My eyes narrowed. “Handle what?”