Between Frost and Fury

by Chani Lynn Feener

  “Everything’s fine,” Delaney told them. “Olena is throwing a tantrum. I bet we’re all surprised, right?”

  The Kint Teller chuckled and then disappeared out of sight once more. After a moment of hesitation Sanzie did the same, leaving the three of them relatively alone again.

  “How do you expect me to help you?” she demanded in a hushed whisper before Olena could voice her outrage at the insult. “It’s not like I can walk up to the Rex and tell him I’ve changed my mind. Not to mention how Trystan would react.”

  “I have a plan.” Olena rolled her gold-and-purple eyes skyward and heaved a dramatic sigh. “Obviously.”

  Yeah, because her plans always worked out so well. Delaney shouldn’t even be contemplating this, shouldn’t want to hear more. And yet … What if she really had a viable plan? Could she even be trusted long enough to consider using it?

  No. No, she really couldn’t.

  “I have a plan of my own, thanks.” Even though, after tonight, it was becoming more and more clear she’d miscalculated.

  “Really?” Olena asked. “I doubt it’s any good.”

  “Whether it is or isn’t, at least I came up with it without your help.”

  She canted her head. “You’re not sure it’s going to work.”

  Since when had Olena been perceptive? Maybe spending all that time locked up had given her some introspection. Or, and this was the more likely option, she’d always been this way and people just hadn’t realized.

  “We’re done here.” Delaney motioned toward Pettus, hoping he’d take the hint and remove Olena before Delaney did something rash like punch the girl.

  Olena allowed Pettus to take her arm and tug her back a few steps before plastering that malicious grin back on her face. “Remember, human, I tried. You’re the one who turned me away.”

  “Take her.” Pettus thrust her out into the hall and then slammed the door before Sanzie could take a step inside. He locked it with the control panel to the right and rushed back over to Delaney. “We have less than a minute. How are you, really?”

  “Did that sound overly ominous to you?” She was still staring at the closed door where Olena had just been.

  “She makes hollow threats all the time.” He rested his hands on her shoulders, the contact forcing her to meet his gaze. “Delaney. Talk to me.”

  How was she? Unsettled, scared, worried, anxious … The list went on and on. But they didn’t have time to get into any of that.

  “Confused,” she said. “Why do you think the Rex is here?”

  “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “But it can’t be for anything good. You told her you had a plan. Did you mean it?”

  “Yes.” She frowned, shook her head. “She was right, though. I don’t think it’ll work anymore.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because, Trystan—”

  The door unlocked from the outside, and as if she’d conjured him, there he was, glaring. The Zane shoved the door out of his way as it swung back, his steps determined. His hair was slightly out of place, and his cheeks were flushed with anger.

  “You couldn’t even last a day,” he growled at Pettus as he approached. “I was lenient, letting you out even though I knew it was a bad idea. And you couldn’t even follow one rule. Don’t touch.”

  His hand wrapped around Pettus’s neck faster than any of them could blink. Another heartbeat later and Trystan was pressing Pettus against the window, holding him up off the ground by a good foot.

  Pettus dangled there, gripping the Zane’s wrist, his heels slamming against the wall. His face was already starting to turn an off-shade of purple.

  “Stop it!” Delaney rushed over, shoving at Trystan’s side. “What the hell are you doing? Put him down! He just wanted to make sure I was okay after Olena!”

  “Olena? She was here?” His grip eased, not by much.

  “Yes!”

  “What did she want?”

  “Put him down and I’ll tell you.” When he didn’t budge, she shoved at him again. “Trystan! Please!”

  He let Pettus go as quickly as he’d taken him up, and the Teller dropped to the ground in a heap in front of the window. Trystan took a single step away.

  “Don’t,” he ordered when Delaney went to kneel before her friend.

  “I have to check on him.”

  Pettus pressed his forehead to the ground, wheezing.

  “He’s breathing, isn’t he?”

  “Barely!”

  “Which is more than I wanted,” he snapped. “Be grateful.”

  She stilled, feeling a wash of cold spread through her. For weeks now he’d been subtly trying to convince her she’d be happy here, with him. Hell, earlier he’d blatantly said so. Now this?

  “So,” she said, hardly recognizing her own voice when she spoke, “that’s how it’s going to be? Your daddy shows up and you magically turn back into the asshole?”

  He pulled back as if she’d slapped him.

  “No, it’s good that I’m finding out now, before I let myself get manipulated into believing you actually meant any of those things you said. I know”—she held up a hand despite the fact that he hadn’t even made moves to interrupt—“you’re laughing on the inside, right? At the naive little human. Can you believe I actually thought I was doing a good job, too? Resisting?”

  She motioned toward Pettus, whose breathing had finally started to even out. “He didn’t think so, but obviously his opinion doesn’t mean anything to you. Guess we both had me fooled. Olena was right. I really am an idiot.”

  “Delaney—”

  “Enough.” She was so far gone, she didn’t even notice that he’d actually listened, clamping his mouth shut immediately after the order was out. All she saw was red, because as she was saying the words out loud, she was realizing they were true.

  How could she? It wasn’t just a betrayal to Ruckus, if what he’d just done to Pettus was any indicator, but to everyone she cared about.

  “I don’t give a damn how badly your father just hurt your feelings, or what he said to make you go off the deep end. I don’t care, Trystan. That’s no excuse, and I’m done helping you make them. You’re going to leave, and Pettus is going to stay so that I can make sure he’s all right. That’s it. You’ve done enough damage for one night.”

  “Delaney—” He tried a second time, his tone unrecognizable.

  “Get. Out.” She sent the words telepathically, hoping they’d have more of an impact. Talking that way had always seemed more intimate to her, proof of a stronger connection between her and Ruckus.

  Clearly Trystan felt the same, because it had the desired effect. For a moment he looked incredibly sad, almost enough that she started to feel an inkling of guilt. But then he spun on his heel and disappeared without a backward glance.

  Even Sanzie gave them space, slowly easing the door shut, her gaze pinned to the ground right up until the door blocked her out.

  Delaney didn’t know how long she stood like that, staring at the door, silently seething. Then Pettus coughed, snapping her out of it, and she dropped down in front of him, gently reaching out.

  He allowed her to help him into a sitting position, using the window wall to keep him upright. There were tears in his eyes, and dark splotches on his neck in the shape of fingers. The bruises would definitely be worse in the morning. His breathing had calmed at least, though he had to suck in his breaths through his teeth.

  He opened his mouth and she shook her head to stop him. Talking right now was not in the cards; it would only cause him more harm.

  “I’m so sorry,” she told him, deflating. All that energy she’d spent berating Trystan leeched out of her, so that it was a struggle to keep her eyes open all of sudden. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s—” He had to stop, and squeezed his eyes shut against the pain.

  “It is my fault, though,” she picked up. “I should have left you down there, where you’d be safe. I just thought … I don’t know. It was s
elfish. I wanted a friendly face around, and I didn’t trust any of Trystan’s men, so on a whim I asked for you. I’m no better than Olena.”

  His hand shot out and took hers, and he applied pressure until she lifted her gaze to his.

  “I wish we’d had our frequencies linked,” she said. “That would make this conversation so much easier, given the circumstances.”

  She hadn’t realized her feelings had altered toward Trystan until tonight, before this had happened to remind her how awful he could be.

  But he was also sweet, like how he treated Dominan. And devoted, because he truly cared about what was best for Kint. And attentive—he’d tried so hard to keep her engaged in this new world.

  And broken.

  Losing his mother had put him in the sole care of a father who was a control freak and had to rest his attentions on an entire kingdom. How much time had he had for his only son? Delaney had gotten the impression not much.

  Pettus’s hand tightened on hers again, pulling her from her wayward thoughts. He was watching her closely, but there wasn’t any judgment in his dark eyes.

  “I love Ruckus.” She licked her lips, needing a second so her voice wouldn’t crack when she added, “You know that, right?”

  He nodded without hesitation, then reached forward and tugged her into a tight hug. Her head tucked beneath his chin, he cradled her, comforting without saying a word.

  CHAPTER 23

  Delaney went about her morning as if everything were normal. That meant eating breakfast in her sitting room, then being escorted to the library for tutoring. There was only one small change to her routine.

  She was alone.

  It wasn’t like she’d expected Trystan to be there, not after how he’d reacted the last time they’d fought—avoiding her until she forced him to confront her. For the most part she was glad he wasn’t around, that she didn’t have to fake a smile and pretend in front of the guards and their teacher that everything was fine between them.

  Things were so far from fine, and despite what she’d said to him last night, secretly she did mostly blame the Rex. His random appearance put them both on edge. Add that to the fact that she knew how Trystan got whenever his dad was so much as mentioned, let alone actually there, and she understood why he’d been so angry last night.

  That didn’t excuse what he’d done to Pettus, of course, and she was still pissed. Comprehending something didn’t necessarily mean agreeing with it.

  By the time her lessons finally ended, Delaney was about ready to jump out of her skin. She was uncomfortable and anxious, and there was only one thing she could think of doing to help spend the extra adrenaline coursing through her veins.

  “We’re going to the training rooms,” she told Sanzie and Pettus as she exited the library, not bothering to wait for a response.

  “Are you sure, Lissa?” Sanzie asked, keeping a pace back while Pettus moved ahead to lead the way. “I could have something prepared for you instead.”

  “Not hungry.” Even the thought of eating made her stomach clench into tight knots. “Besides, why should I alter my schedule just because the Zane is off pouting somewhere?”

  Pettus choked, pretending to cough in a poor attempt to cover it up. The fact that he could even get those sounds out past his bruised throat was amazing. He’d woken this morning unable to get more than a forced whisper past his lips, though his voice had greatly improved throughout the day.

  Trystan was lucky; if there’d been permanent damage, Delaney would never have forgiven him.

  Sanzie didn’t seem to find it as funny as the Teller. Delaney could feel the Sworn bristling behind her without having to turn to verify.

  “The Zane has many important things to attend to,” she disagreed curtly. “More so, since the Rex has arrived.”

  “Sure.” Delaney rolled her eyes, glad that Sanzie couldn’t see her do it.

  Fortunately they reached the training room shortly after, putting an end to what no doubt would have turned into an argument. Seeing as how Sanzie was loyal to Trystan, fighting with her about him seemed pointless.

  Really, all she wanted was to work up a sweat and hopefully shed some of these negative emotions. Clear her head. She wasn’t sure when training had turned into a form of catharsis for her, but she was grateful for it.

  At least, she was right up until she entered the room and found Trystan there.

  He was going through defensive moves, blocking an invisible attacker with his arms and legs as he swiftly shot backward across the mat. His pants were looser than his usual style, only tight around his hips and ankles. And bloodred, another instantly notable difference.

  He was also shirtless.

  Delaney absently tilted her head to better follow his movements, watching his muscles ripple with each arch of his back and lift of an arm.

  Right before he was about to reach the end of the mat, he switched from defense to offense, lashing out with lightning strikes that were, at times, hard for her to visually follow. It certainly drove home the fact that he’d been going easy on her during their sessions.

  Feeling some of her confidence drain, Delaney rested her hands on her hips. She was in the middle of debating whether she should just turn around and leave when he finished delivering a fake deathblow and looked up.

  The anger and bitterness in his eyes had her heartbeat speeding, and it didn’t slow even when those things cleared, leaving regret and annoyance.

  Trystan casually moved across the room to a towel rack, rubbing at his face and then behind his neck. Dropping the used cloth to the ground at his feet, he lifted his gaze a second time, feigning indifference when she was still standing there.

  “I didn’t know you’d be here,” she croaked, hating herself for it. It was hard to concentrate with him standing there all sweaty and shirtless, looking more alone than she’d ever seen him.

  More than she’d ever seen anyone, actually. Ruckus had been lonely before they’d met, but in a different way. He’d been too busy to get involved with anyone, too career oriented and distracted by handling Olena to make many friends aside from Pettus. He’d wanted people to confide in; it’d just been too hard for him to find them.

  Trystan’s loneliness stemmed elsewhere.

  Kint loved him, but he pushed people away, using intimidation and station as weapons. He chose his sentences carefully, so that his wording could wound just as painfully as the blade of a sword. The only friend she’d ever heard him talk about had died in the war, and while he treated Dom with care and, dare she say, love, she’d yet to see him interact with the boy’s mother.

  He made it seem like he didn’t want friends, deflecting any sense of camaraderie, putting people in their supposed places. Even she’d believed him. He was arrogant and crass and didn’t care about anything but achieving his goals. What use would someone like that have for friendship?

  But it was a lie. All those things he put out in the world, they were all lies. He was an asshole, there was no doubt about that, yet it was by choice, not design. Was he afraid of getting hurt? Is that why he pushed people away before they even had a chance to get to know him?

  More important, why did she care?

  Sanzie cleared her throat, cluing Delaney into the fact she’d been staring far longer than was socially appropriate.

  Pettus shifted half an inch closer and the Zane noticed.

  “How is your neck, Teller?” he asked briskly, and it was obvious he wasn’t used to checking up on people.

  “I’ll live,” Pettus managed, eyes narrowing. “Thanks to the Lissa.”

  Trystan clenched his jaw but took the dig. “Fair enough.”

  “I figured I’d get some training done,” Delaney said. That seemed like a good place to end their conversation. That was more than likely the closest to an apology Pettus was going to get.

  Trystan dropped his eyes to the ground and nodded. “I’ll go.”

  Before she knew what she was doing, she moved forward, stoppi
ng him with a hand on his arm. As soon as she’d made contact, she let go. His skin was heated, and touching him while he was half naked wasn’t the best plan.

  “Stay,” she found herself saying. “I still need work on that one move you’ve been showing me. I don’t think I’ll get it on my own.”

  “Pettus can help you.”

  The disappointment she felt should have been off-putting enough to make her drop it. It wasn’t.

  “Vakar martial arts is so different from Kint’s,” she tried, glad that it was true and something she was aware of. “If I’m going to learn it properly, I should have a Kint teacher, don’t you think?”

  Trystan was so still, it was hard to tell if he was breathing. They were standing close enough, though, that when she focused, she could almost catch the rise and fall of his chest.

  “Delaney,” he said finally, her name a mere whisper off his lips. It sounded almost pleading, desperate and full of vulnerability.

  Was it because he felt bad about last night? Was there a chance he’d deliver an actual apology after all?

  “What are you doing to me?” he ended up saying, only confusing her more.

  “I don’t…” She licked her lips, trying to settle her features to no avail. She couldn’t stop frowning. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m not doing anything.”

  “Don’t lie to me.” Again, it sounded more desperate than demanding, and again she was left with no good response. He hovered over her, the heat from his body wafting off in the slightly chilled room so that she could almost see it.

  When she breathed in, the air was filled with cucumber and sweat, a clear indicator she was too close to him. She tried to get herself to move away, but it was like her legs refused to listen to reason and she was rooted to the spot.

  “We’re standing in the middle of the room,” he told her quietly. “It’s improbable for me to back you into any corners here. They’re too far away. You’re going to have to just give me this, this once.”

  “Trystan.” She shook her head. “I can’t give you an answer when I don’t know it myself.”

  If he recognized the use of his own words against him, he didn’t show it.