Between Frost and Fury

by Chani Lynn Feener

  “It’s going to happen,” Trystan said, his voice dropping an octave.

  “Please”—she took a shaky breath—“not right now.”

  “Why not? Whether we talk about it now or later, it won’t change anything. We’re a little over halfway through the exercises already, the date has been set, the invites sent out. I selected a dress that will look perfect on you—”

  “Stop.” She slammed both palms onto the table, rattling the contents. After a moment she said, “I’m not the one ruining the evening now, Trystan.”

  “These decisions are usually ones made by both parties.”

  “Yes, well, I’m sure typically both parties are also in agreement that bonding for life is what they want. Our situation is a little different. I don’t want to be here. Not on Xenith. Not in Inkwell. Not—”

  “With me.”

  At some point during her tirade, he’d rested an arm across the back of her chair. It’d brought him much closer to her, and now that she’d noticed, she could see the way his pupils had dilated. The crimson ring around his cornflower-blue eyes had thickened and darkened, a sure sign he was close to his limit.

  Self-preservation kept her from outright confirming that statement, because things had been going relatively well—for them, anyway—and she didn’t want to push him over the edge and have it all blow up in her face. Especially so soon after he’d let Pettus out.

  “I don’t know what you want me to say,” she ended up admitting.

  “Something I fear that’s going to take you a lot longer to get to than I’d hoped,” he said.

  She knew she should pull away, but his expression kept her there, frozen. “We’re doing this for our people.”

  He glanced down at her mouth, distracted. “That’s how I thought it all began. Perhaps the Ander is more adept than me after all. At least in this one thing.”

  “What are you talking about?” And why was Ruckus involved?

  “I want a partner, Delaney.” He cupped the side of her face, tilting up her chin so that she was forced to stare directly into his eyes. “Someone I can confide in. Someone I can trust. I’ve always known I was going to rule, and I thought I’d do it alone, like my father, but…”

  “Trystan.” They were getting dangerously close to the conversation they’d had that night he’d told her about his mother. A night she’d tried really hard to forget. He’d said things that had implied he really was in it for the long haul, as he’d once claimed.

  She hadn’t believed him then.

  She was starting to now.

  And that was utterly terrifying.

  “I’ve been distracted,” he told her. “Determined not to allow myself to get tied to someone like Olena. Determined not to fail my people.” His jaw clenched. “My father. When the Ander suggested it, I thought he was crazy, but now I see it.”

  She did not want to know what it was.

  “We’ll be good together, Delaney. With you by my side, I can achieve everything I’ve ever wanted. Everything my father couldn’t. We’ll be able to unify not only Xenith, but our two planets as well. A better race, stronger, and vastly superior.”

  “To who?” Had he completely lost his mind? What the hell was in that breakfast stuff?

  “Everyone. We can do it. We can have everything.”

  “I don’t want everything,” she whispered, and when he stilled, she knew he’d heard her. “You were raised to be this; I wasn’t. My dreams are different.”

  “Your dreams are of the Ander, you mean,” he practically sneered.

  He wasn’t just saying these things to try to convince her or manipulate her. He meant them, and that was the worst thing that could happen because it meant her plan had no chance of working.

  They’d made an agreement, but Ruckus had probably been right about that, too, and she couldn’t cope with there being no way out of this. Couldn’t lose that single shred of hope that, eventually, she’d get to go home. Back to her life.

  “Let’s go over everything I’ve given you,” he said, his voice dipping dangerously low. “A title. Two palaces. Another planet—”

  “Removal from my home.” She couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. “Separation from my friends and my family—”

  “Choice over the next Sworn. My favorite foods. Your favorite foods—”

  “When you’ve remembered to feed me!” Both of their voices continued to rise with every passing second.

  “That useless Teller!”

  “His name is Pettus!”

  “The clothes on your back!”

  “Yeah, because you took mine!”

  “This!” Without letting her go, he indicated the candlelit room they were in.

  “Now you’re reaching,” she declared without skipping a beat.

  “Me!”

  They both froze, equally caught off guard, so that all they could do was stare at each other for a long, breathy pause.

  “Me,” he finally repeated, sounding flustered by the revelation. Just as quickly he seemed to come to terms with it, so that when he spoke again, it was with conviction. “I’ve given you me.”

  Delaney’s world narrowed down to a pinpoint. She wasn’t even sure if she was still breathing.

  “Am I interrupting?” They hadn’t heard the Rex come in, but now the sound of his voice had them jumping apart like two teenagers caught reaching second base in their parents’ basement.

  It took her a moment to process that he was standing in the doorway, a single blond brow lifted.

  “Father.” Trystan cleared his throat and rose from his seat slowly. He absently smoothed down the front of his shirt, then held out his right hand to help Delaney to her feet as well.

  She took it, actually grateful when he didn’t immediately let go once she was standing. Her legs suddenly felt like jelly, and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to remain upright on her own. In person the Rex was even more intimidating than she’d estimated he would be, especially when he was looking at them like that.

  “I wasn’t expecting you,” Trystan continued in an even tone that Delaney was impressed with.

  “That was the point,” the Rex replied tersely, glancing at their clasped hands and then at the romantically lit room.

  A girl stepped up behind him, not fully entering, but coming close enough for the light to illuminate her pale face and dark hair.

  “What the hell is she doing here?” Trystan growled half a second before Delaney was able to.

  Olena was still as a statue at the Rex’s back, her face blank.

  “Is that any way to treat a guest, son?” the Rex clucked his tongue.

  “She’s no guest of mine. The only reason you’d have to bring her along is that she’s too important to leave behind.”

  “Caution, son,” the Rex warned. “You’re right about how important she is. To getting what you want. You’ll be wise to keep that in mind before you spout more childish complaints.”

  Trystan clamped his mouth shut, his fingers tightening around Delaney’s. If he noticed he was clinging to her, he didn’t show it, which gave her the impression it was subconscious.

  “It’s good to meet you in person, Rex Hortan,” she said, proud when her voice didn’t shake and give her away.

  “Likewise, Lissa Delaney.” He inspected her and motioned her forward with the curve of his fingers.

  She didn’t want to go but was smart enough to know disobeying wasn’t an option. Still, she had to practically pry her hand from Trystan’s, all while keeping the fact that she was doing so from being obvious.

  It was hard to find the correct balance; she didn’t want to walk to him too quickly and seem eager, but she also couldn’t go at a snail’s pace. When she thought she was close enough, she stopped, hoping that he wouldn’t find insult in the few feet she’d kept between them.

  “You’re taller than I thought you’d be,” the Rex told her. The corner of his mouth lifted in a friendly smile.

  She was
n’t buying it.

  “Apologies for interrupting,” he added when she didn’t reply fast enough for him.

  “Not at all,” she said.

  “Are you sure?” He glanced pointedly over her shoulder at his son. “From where I’m standing, it certainly appeared as though I’d interrupted. Lovers’ spat, was it?”

  She caught herself from gulping, and tilted her chin up another notch instead. “You misread the situation, that’s all. Things are fine between Trystan and me.”

  He grunted. “You’ll forgive me for finding that hard to believe, Lissa. I know my son; he’s almost impossible to get along with. I doubt you enjoy his company as much as you’re trying to let on, but”—he held up a hand—“I commend you for that. You’ve certainly more skill than your predecessor.”

  Delaney’s eyes trailed to Olena, expecting to see outrage. She was confused when she found that the other girl hadn’t so much as twitched at the insult.

  “Have you gotten to dessert yet?”

  “We were just about to,” she said, even though it was obviously a lie. How much of their argument had he heard?

  “You’re in for a treat then, if Trystan made it himself,” he told her. “Cooking is a complete waste of time, mind you, but you know my son.” He caught Trystan’s gaze, held it. “Once he has an idea in his head, it’s next to impossible to get him to see reason.”

  “I’ll have rooms made up for you, Father.” Trystan was suddenly at her side again, touching her elbow comfortingly.

  “Already taken care of,” the Rex assured him. “I’ve taken the East Wing and placed extra guards at Olena’s room.”

  “You aren’t placing her in a cell?”

  “Not necessary.” He smiled at Olena. “We have an understanding. She behaves and gets to keep her fingers and toes. Isn’t that right, Ond?”

  “Yes, Rex.” Olena bowed her head.

  Delaney had been apprehensive before, but now she was petrified. What had he done to Olena to make her so submissive?

  “Perhaps it’s best if the Lissa takes dessert in her chambers,” the Rex suggested. “There’s much for you and me to discuss. The sooner the better. You understand, Lissa Delaney, don’t you?”

  She stretched her mouth into her sweetest smile and nodded.

  “Wait.” Trystan’s hand tightened around hers when she went to step away.

  “It’s fine.” She turned back to him, settling her features into a more honest version of a smile. “Really. You two talk. I’ll be fine.”

  “We aren’t finished,” he protested.

  “Are you seriously willing to risk pissing off your father?” she asked, sending it through their fittings so the Rex wouldn’t hear.

  He paused, seeming to weigh her words before he eased his hand out of hers. “I’ll come to you later.”

  “I’m tired,” she said. “I doubt I’ll even make it to dessert.”

  He wanted to fight with her, it was so obvious, but he practiced restraint she was certain was more for his father’s benefit than hers.

  “Good night, Rex.” She bowed her head to him as she passed, making sure not to get too close to Olena as she did so.

  “Until again, Lissa Delaney,” he said, then quietly watched her go.

  She managed to keep it together when the doors shut at her back, knowing they were see-through and not wanting to risk that the Rex was still looking. It wasn’t until she was around the corner and definitely out of sight that she allowed herself to slump against the wall.

  “Delaney.” Pettus reached for her.

  Her eyes were closed, but she felt his hand on her arm. “I’m fine. I just need a moment.”

  “The Rex has that effect on people,” Sanzie told her. It was just the three of them, but it was still nice of the Sworn to try to make her feel better.

  “Thanks.” She took a deep breath, then straightened. She went to step away but then stopped, glancing back down the way they’d come. “Do you think—”

  “The Zane will be fine,” Sanzie interrupted, easily picking up on what she was getting at.

  Pettus frowned and Delaney had to look away to keep him from seeing the rush of guilt. Why should it matter to her how the Rex dealt with Trystan? Shouldn’t she be hoping he gave him hell, instead of worrying for his well-being like an idiot?

  “Let’s go.” She needed this day to be over.

  They escorted her the rest of the way in silence, Pettus keeping up his frown the whole way.

  CHAPTER 22

  A few hours later someone came to her door. The fact that they had bothered to wait after knocking gave away it wasn’t Trystan, and Delaney slowed on her way toward it.

  Not that her hesitation mattered. Sanzie allowed Olena to enter a second later, with Pettus close on her heels. Once the two of them were through, the Sworn returned to her post in the hall, leaving the door open.

  “What are you doing here?” Delaney demanded, not bothering to mask her ire. Hadn’t the Rex just got done saying she’d be heavily guarded and confined to her rooms?

  Pettus kept close by, but Olena paid him no mind, traveling around the sitting area, touching things as she went. She trailed her fingers across the backing of one of the chairs on the way to the fireplace, the corner of her lush red lips turning upward in a mocking half smile. Whatever game she’d been playing in the Ice Dome, it’d clearly been for the Rex’s benefit, because the meek girl was gone.

  “Well, you’ve really gone up in the world haven’t you, tiny human?” she cooed, propping an arm against the chair.

  Her midnight-black hair was only a few inches longer than it had been the last time they’d seen each other. She narrowed her gold eyes, the deep purple rim around them catching the firelight and appearing darker, almost black.

  “It’s treason to speak to the Lissa that way,” Pettus came to her defense, taking a stiff step closer to Olena, who lifted a well-manicured hand to ward him off.

  “Apologies, Lissa Delaney,” she sneered, her grin turning sharklike. “I’m impressed, that’s all. Everyone seems to think you’re better than me, and yet here we are, with you desperately climbing the social ladder.”

  Delaney opened her mouth to argue but quickly shut it. Olena didn’t know that she was being blackmailed into this marriage, and with the Rex keeping her close, it wasn’t worth exposing that detail.

  “They let you roam the halls freely?” Delaney crossed her arms, determined to get through this—whatever this was.

  “I’m allowed to go where I please,” Olena told her arrogantly, even going so far as to lift her chin.

  “So long as it’s in the general vicinity of the Rex, you mean.” Delaney grunted. “Our ideas of freedom are clearly very different. What are you doing here anyway, besides tainting my airspace with your presence?”

  Olena scrunched up her nose, the first sign of true emotion she’d shown all night. “You’re starting to sound like him. Trystan.”

  “You say his name like he’s some type of fungus.”

  Olena stared at her searchingly, running her gaze across her face before she blinked. “You like him.”

  “What?” She forced herself not to look at Pettus. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Yes.” She nodded vigorously. “Yes, it is. But that doesn’t change the fact that it’s true. You’ve actually thawed toward the Zane. Goodness, you’re naive. What did he promise you? Besides my rightful position, of course. What was it? You can tell me.” Her expression turned mocking. “I’m great at keeping secrets.”

  “This isn’t about my feelings, or non-feelings as it were, for Trystan.” She kept her voice as steady as possible, though frustration caused her hands to shake slightly. “Whatever reason you’re here, Olena, I don’t care. I just want you to leave. Now.”

  “Tossing me out?” She tsk-tsked. “Where are your manners? Didn’t they warn you that as Lissa you have to take council with all types of unseemly people?”

  “How did she get here?” Delaney d
irected this to Pettus, finally giving him her attention. She was glad to find he wasn’t looking at her the same way he had back in the halls earlier. There was no confusion or suspicion there, only annoyance toward Olena.

  “A few of the Rex’s guards escorted her,” he explained tersely. “They’re waiting outside with Sworn Sanzie. They insisted it was the Rex’s will that she be allowed a meeting with you.”

  Did Trystan know? She caught herself from blatantly asking, clearing her throat at the last second.

  “You have sixty seconds to say whatever it is you came here to say, and then I want you gone.”

  “I didn’t come here to say anything,” Olena said. “I was curious, that’s all.”

  “Of?”

  “My replacement,” she stated matter-of-factly. “I’ve been told you fooled the council. How sweet.”

  “Leave.”

  Instead of listening, Olena slowly made her way around the chair, raising her hands when Pettus let out a warning growl in the back of his throat. She kept her eyes locked with his, clearly hoping to silently assure him she wasn’t going to do Delaney any harm.

  Oddly, Delaney believed it, and remained where she was while she approached.

  “That was a lie,” Olena whispered as soon as she was close enough, glancing pointedly toward the direction of the still-open door. “I came here to make you a deal. I hear those are things you tend to take an interest in.”

  Wow, for a supposed prisoner, she certainly heard a lot.

  “I want what’s mine,” she continued when Delaney didn’t say anything. “This is my life you’re living, and I want it back. In return, I’m willing to help you reclaim yours. And I’m up for offering you the same things Trystan has. Whatever those are.”

  Delaney was caught off guard, and Olena must have misinterpreted that as rejection.

  “Just help me, damn it,” the words came out louder than the last, and Olena stomped her foot for good measure.

  Sanzie peered into the room, another Kint Teller who Delaney hadn’t seen before appearing directly over her left shoulder.