Tristan Tales Novels & Stories

What is he doing to me anyway, and why is he dipping his fingers inside me? “I’m not taking advantage of you.” He got closer to my ear. “Relax. I’m not raping you. I’m doing this for your own good.” And he whispered. “So stop shaking in fear and crying. I’m not Clyde or Ragnulf, Raava.” I was crying? Now that I think about it, my body feels scared of him, even though it feels good. My traumatized body came from my stupid mistakes in the past and thinks Uriel is doing the same thing too.

Having one person belong to me completely—as mine and mine alone—someone who would never leave me, always love me, be my family, my home… An ache so frantic and full of wild craving spread like wildfire through my chest before I realized how stupid such a desire was. Because who was I kidding? I was the son of a monster and a courtesan. I didn’t get true love or happy endings, especially with beautiful, exotic princesses from distant lands. With a jolt of awareness, I returned to reality. “You could just be putting one over on me,” I told her, unable to trust what I’d just seen. “Maybe anyone who touches your tattoo can make it do that.”

he says. "I don't even know your name, why would I trust you?" I ask him. "My name Tristan, I was Prince Caspian right hand, and I vowed my life to Princess Charlotte, you can trust me, I'm your best shot to come out of this alive," Tristan says finally introducing himself to me.

Millicent would bring more than just snakes to a fight like this. “What the hell is that?” I asked, squinting as a creature stomps forward carrying a club. “It looks like the ugly sister of a troll,” someone snickered behind me. But then more of them appeared. “They must be something Millicent conjured,” I told Killian, not wanting to admit I didn’t know what they were. An almighty shriek hurts my ears as creatures appear carrying axes. Tala growls. I squint to get a better look. The creatures have pointed ears and huge razor teeth appear. I have seen nothing like them in my life. “What the hell?” I said, gulping.

I walked closer to him, leaving a small gap between us, “Selfish? Hell no, I choose myself first; I simply do not want to have a relationship like your Father, your Mother, and his mistresses.” Everyone knows despite Tristan's father being married to his mom, he had mistresses and different children and would always protect his other family instead of his legal family. Tristan gritted; he came extremely close to me, covering the small gap I had left between us, “I'm nothing like my Father; do not compare me to him; if I was like my Father, then I would have taken Ava as my mistress and will not be standing here with you.” “Then don't let me stop you,” My eyes balled into his eyes as we stare

“Tristan’s awake. He’s asking to see you. He wants to tell you about the Nest himself.” The infirmary was quiet when I entered. Tristan lay propped against pillows, pale but alert. He tried to sit up when he saw me. “Don’t stress yourself,” I said, lowering myself into the chair beside him. “You’ve done enough.” A weak smile crossed his face. “I’m glad you’re alive.” “Thanks to you.” He nodded slowly. “But first, there’s something you need to understand. About who I am. About Morgan.” For the next hour, Tristan told me about his entire history, including the fact that he was the fox prince everyone was looking for. Morgan was his fated mate and how the child Morgan was carrying was his and n

He smiled at me before he played with the cane in his hand. "If you only knew the reason from the very beginning and I knew you would not allow each other in this marriage." He said. Everything they say I couldn’t understand. It was like a poem that no matter how many times I read it I could not understand what it meant to me or what’s the meaning. He waved the cane on the thorn and then whistled. The black wolves stopped because of what he did. Some survivors of the fight even ran away to back to their boss. Belle suddenly exploded ice and they suddenly disappeared. She just left a mess that looked like it was snowing that night. We were all stunned especially at their sudden disappearance.

Night of that day, after the house had settled and the second feeding had passed and the cradle had accepted her for a rare longer stretch, Tristan stood at the window of our room with his arms crossed and his bare shoulders against the cold frame, looking out at the winter dark. “Talk,” I said from the bed. “I used to think the end of the story was the closed door. The claim held. The code extinguished. The title taken. The enemies spent.” He did not turn. “It was not the end. It was the permission to begin a story I did not know how to want until you made the wanting survivable.” I waited.

Ava and Xander were surprised when they heard the bell ring, they weren’t expecting guests but Xander opened the door, and stood frozen. Tristan stood there with two suitcases. Calm. Unbothered. Like it was a normal thing. Ava whispered, “Tristan… what are you doing?” “Moving in,” he said simply. Xander stepped forward. “You’re insane.” Tristan shrugged. “Public scandal. Office rumors. A client calling her a whore. And you think showing up randomly with suitcases is smart?” A moment of silence passed as the question hung in the air. “You want to control the story?” Tristan said. “This is how you do it. We move as a unit. A throuple. A single front.”

"In fact, I do have a level of trust in you, bearing in mind that I do not, in fact, know you very well." "So...?" "I prefer not to tell you because I don't want to frighten you." My stomach flips. "You don't want to frighten me? You can't say something like that and not finish it off, can you? Do you imagine you can tell me anything that's going to frighten me any more than what you just said?" James, with a deep intake of breath, stands, pacing around the room. "Sometimes you know, life leaves you that you can't do right for doing wrong. Alright, Kirstie. Charlotte's enemies are traffickers..."