Between Frost and Fury

by Chani Lynn Feener

  That hadn’t changed, had it? It couldn’t have. He was still the same person, and she was still here pretending to be someone else for his benefit.

  So why did it feel different?

  He’d been waiting for her to make the final move, but his patience must have run out, for in the next instant, his mouth was on hers. His lips were firm, demanding, leaving no room for rejection. His fingers slid to the back of her skull, holding her in place so he could deepen the kiss.

  He didn’t taste anything like he smelled, more rich with a hint of sweetness than like cucumber, though that scent surrounded her, fogging up her brain.

  She tried to remind herself they weren’t alone, that there were people—like Pettus—watching, but before the thoughts could fully form, he forced them away with a stroke of his tongue.

  She didn’t know what was going on with her, why she tilted her head to accommodate him when he changed the angle of the kiss. Why she pressed herself closer still. There was only one thing she knew with total certainty.

  She did not want to feel this way. Not toward him. But she couldn’t stop it.

  Fortunately, Trystan finally ended the kiss, pulling back and steadying her when she would have lost her balance trying to follow. He held her like that for a moment, the two of them staring at each other while they tried to regain focus.

  Delaney was out of breath and felt off-kilter, annoyed when she noticed how he still seemed so put together. Apart from the reddening of his lips, he could have just come straight from an office meeting, for all the indication he gave. She went to take a step back, needing space between them, but he took her hand, keeping her close.

  “There’s a ship on standby waiting to take you to Kilma.” The Rex stepped forward, a mocking edge to his voice. For whatever reason, he was seriously displeased about these necklaces.

  Delaney couldn’t understand why, because she was pretty sure it didn’t hold the same meaning as exchanging rings on Earth would.

  “Of course, Father.” Trystan somehow managed to sound just as flip as the Rex. Almost like he’d gotten an extra boost of arrogance. That self-satisfied half grin was once again painted across his face.

  Yet when he turned back to Delaney, it vanished. It looked as though he wanted to say something specific, his gaze dropping back to their clasped hands. Whatever it was, he must have opted against it, because the smile he gave her next was forced, as was the almost chaste kiss he pressed against the space between her shoulder and neck.

  “I’ll walk with you,” the Rex said, attempting to hurry this along. The rest of his party was crowded close behind him.

  Delaney watched their exchange, absently rubbing at the nail marks she’d inadvertently made on her palm.

  “Until again,” Trystan told her softly, and she thought she caught a hint of sadness in his eyes before he turned from her.

  And left.

  CHAPTER 27

  Delaney almost hadn’t come for a couple of reasons. The first was guilt. She had to admit, if only to herself, that she hadn’t entirely hated the kiss.

  Not like she should have.

  The second … was more guilt, but a different kind altogether. She actually felt a little bad about going behind Trystan’s back. Visiting Ruckus was taking advantage of the fact that the Zane was away this morning, and even though it shouldn’t, it bothered her.

  She thought about it the whole way there, through the halls and down the different stairwells. She was so distracted by the confusing onslaught of mixed emotions that she hardly noticed Sanzie or Pettus following behind.

  After the ceremony, everyone had simply disappeared, including Gailie, who’d mumbled something unintelligible and then bolted after the Rex.

  She hadn’t known what to do with the items—Trystan had taken two of his, but that was only because he’d been wearing the bracelet and sneaked the stone in his pocket—so ended up leaving them there on the floor. The whole ordeal from start to finish had been a conundrum. Especially that final item.

  It’d promised betrayal, but because she’d been the one who’d chosen it, did that mean it was foreseeing she’d be the bringer, or the receiver? This alien prediction crap was confusing, and when she was feeling lost and out of sorts, she instinctually wanted to turn to one person.

  Ruckus.

  And that brought up the other issue. She’d been thinking about him when she’d selected that particular item. Would Ruckus want to know she’d done it with him in mind? Did he buy into the superstition? She didn’t know, and that worried her when it shouldn’t. She should have more faith in them than that.

  There was only a single Teller at the bottom of the steps, and he was busy playing with a shing. As soon as his eyes passed over Sanzie, he quickly shoved the device into his pocket and straightened.

  Delaney swept past, coming to a stop when she spotted Gibus sitting against the wall, facing the room’s entrance. He perked up when she came into view, leaping to his feet.

  Gibus moved closer and waved. For a guy who’d been held hostage for the past month, he looked surprisingly well and high-spirited.

  Pettus stepped forward, clearly excited and relieved to see his friend. “Are you being treated well?”

  Delaney looked toward Ruckus’s cell to find him already waiting for her at the front. All his bruises had healed, leaving little to no sign that he’d been forced into captivity.

  How could she even be remotely softening toward Trystan when he was the reason for all this?

  “They told me you had your Unveiling yesterday,” Ruckus said, his voice deep and rough.

  “It was a real treat,” she drawled, hoping he caught the note of sarcasm. “Guess whose future is filled with betrayal?”

  His shoulders stiffened and she made a face at him.

  “Don’t tell me you believe in that junk?” Her heart clenched painfully as she waited.

  “It’s not me I’m concerned about,” he explained. “Whether you take it seriously or not, a large enough part of the Vakar population will. This isn’t good. Where’s Trystan?”

  She quirked a brow. “You’re asking about Trystan?”

  “He shouldn’t be leaving you alone, not after those results.”

  “We get some time to talk without him,” she said, moving closer to the barrier that separated them. “Let’s not waste it. Besides, Trystan’s not here because he’s not here. He went on some mission to Kilma to stop the Tars.”

  “What?” Ruckus frowned, stilling all over again. “Why are the Tars congregating in Kilma? It’s a Kint town.”

  “Which makes sense … seeing as how they’re mostly made up of Kints. Right? They’re trying to convince the rest of them to agree to overthrow me.” She clucked her tongue. “Honestly, after how much they hated Olena, you’d think Trystan would have thought on this a little harder.”

  Though he was so sure of himself, positive that his world would accept her simply because he did. What he wanted, obviously, was what everyone else should as well. Yet another reason why she should have pushed him away yesterday when he’d kissed her, or at the very least, cut it short.

  The initial meeting of their lips had to happen—the Rex had been right there watching—but it’d lasted way longer than a brief brushing of mouths.

  “Ruckus.” She had to tell him.

  “Does Vakar know about this?” he asked before she had the chance to say anything else. “You,” he called out to Sanzie, who glared back. “Has the Basilissa been notified about the situation in Kilma?”

  “I’m not at liberty to discuss such things with you, Ander,” she stated.

  “If the Tars are rallying against her successor, she deserves to be alerted,” he insisted. “The Vakar could help put an end to them before things get out of hand.”

  “Your opinion has been duly noted.”

  He growled and slammed his palms against the barrier, hissing and pulling back as sparks flickered off. His hands were red and he shook them as if the air wou
ld help cool the burn.

  “Damn it, Ruckus,” Delaney snapped. “The last thing we need right now is you losing it.”

  She glanced over her shoulder at Pettus and Gibus, who were still deep in conversation. They were angled toward each other, speaking in hushed whispers. That was what she and Ruckus should be doing, not debating whether Kint was keeping Vakar in the loop.

  “It just doesn’t make any sense, Delaney,” Ruckus said.

  “What doesn’t?” Aside from everything, of course.

  “If they really are growing their numbers in Kilma, and the Kint know about it, why send Trystan? It should be simple enough to stop them without involving the Zane, especially now, when tradition dictates he stay focused on you and the bonding steps. Why go?” He paused, caught up in his own thoughts. “Was it his decision?”

  “No.”

  When Trystan had told her yesterday he’d decided to go after all, she’d been worried, and then annoyed because of that worry. More than that, though, she’d been frustrated, because the real reason he was going was because of the Rex.

  Ruckus was staring at a spot on the floor, frowning. Being Ander meant having certain skills, certain instincts. If he was really this concerned, there had to be a legitimate reason. And if so, why hadn’t Trystan seen it?

  “The Rex ordered it,” she shared, realizing that if there was a reason Trystan overlooked something, that would be it.

  He tried so hard not to speak against his father, especially now. She knew that it was a constant battle of wills between Trystan and his father. That keeping things on his particular track took massive amounts of effort and compromise with the Rex.

  “Knowing where the Tars are going to be should make taking them out simple,” Ruckus mumbled, more to himself than to her. “So sending Trystan is pretty pointless. It also still poses enough risk that you’d think the Rex would keep him away from all of it, at least until the two of you are actually—”

  “Isn’t this sweet,” Olena’s voice abruptly cut him off. She was standing in the center of the room, an arm outstretched before her with an activated fritz at the end.

  Aimed at the back of Sanzie’s skull.

  Pettus moved to open his own, but two Tellers stepped up behind the old Lissa, weapons drawn. He held up both hands, palms out.

  “This must be what it looked like,” Olena continued lightly, “the two of you hanging out in dark corners, exchanging romantic quips. That’s it, right?” She rested her gaze on Ruckus. “That’s why you abandoned me for Earth—to be with her. It’s why you helped her steal everything from me. Because the two of you fell in love.” She stuck out her tongue in disgust.

  “And all while she looked like me,” she continued perkily. “Ruckus, let’s pretend you have a gun to your head.”

  One of the Tellers at her back shifted so he was now aiming at the Ander.

  “Oh.” She smiled. “Now you really do. Anyway, answer this honestly.” She leaned forward, pressing the barrel of her fritz against Sanzie’s head in the process. “You liked her better when she was me, didn’t you?”

  He didn’t bother acknowledging that with a response.

  “Come on.” She rolled her eyes. “Don’t deny it. You used to watch me night and day. You can’t truthfully tell me you didn’t feel attraction. I’ll tell you the truth. It was mutual.”

  “Can bullets pierce through the shield?” Delaney sent the question to Ruckus. The barrier keeping him locked up was strong; there was always the chance it could keep zees from entering, despite it not having an electrical current on the outside.

  “They can through the ones in Vakar,” he said.

  “You think I can’t tell when you two are talking behind my back?” Olena stomped her foot, the fritz in her hand letting off a rattling sound.

  “Technically,” Gibus spoke from within his cell, holding up a finger, “they’re standing in front of you, Olena dear.” He glanced pointedly at Pettus then said from the corner of his mouth, “She never was very intelligent.”

  “Shoot him!” she screamed, jabbing her hand in his direction. “Shoot his stupid face off!”

  “But”—the Teller at her left glanced to the one on her right—“the Rex said—”

  “I don’t care what he said,” she growled. “I’m saying to shoot him!”

  “You might want to be more careful with your words.”

  Olena instantly paled at the sound of the Rex’s voice.

  He came up behind her, slipping through the open doorway without skipping a beat. It was impossible to tell how long he’d been out there, if he’d maybe just been on his way and she’d been unlucky, or if he’d intentionally been listening in.

  “Rex.” Delaney pulled back her shoulders, determined to appear in control despite how quickly this was all spiraling. “I assume you’re down here to explain why Olena has been let loose in the building?”

  “Happily.” He adjusted the front of his jacket, the move eerily similar to Trystan’s. “I’m afraid there’s been a change in plans, Miss Grace. Your services will no longer be required.”

  “Excuse me?” It felt like a bucket of ice water had just been dropped over her head.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Ruckus demanded.

  “Ander.” He tsk-tsked. “You’ve always been so cordial. Pity to put an end to that now, don’t you think? It’s one thing to talk to my son like that, another to speak to a Rex. Still, I understand your ire, and can assure you that once Miss Grace has been taken care of, I’ll let you out of that cell. I even have a job proposal for you. It seems Lissa Olena is quite taken with you and insists that you be reinstated as her personal bodyguard.”

  “That’s a hard no,” both Ruckus and Delaney hissed at the same time.

  Olena made another face. “Earth phrases. When you’re my Ander again, I’m making it a rule that they can never be used in my presence.”

  “Trystan will never allow this,” Delaney said. Not that she thought the Rex would care about that.

  “My son is not here,” the Rex stated. Then he grinned, the malicious twisting of his lips and the darkening of his eyes also such familiar gestures, her breath caught. “Why do you think that is, Miss Grace?”

  What? No.

  No.

  “He left because you made him,” she reminded him, feeling another sweeping rush of doubt when that caused the Rex to laugh.

  “Made him?” he said through chuckles. “Surely you’re more perceptive than that? No one makes my son do anything, Delaney. He’s too hardheaded. He isn’t here because he wanted to go, practically ran to the ship yesterday to get away from you.”

  “You’re lying.” He had to be. Though Trystan had been in a rush to leave after they’d kissed …

  “I may have been the one who suggested he oversee the takedown in Kilma,” he confirmed, “but it certainly wasn’t necessary to twist his arm about it. He leaped at the opportunity to get back out there. You see”—he took a deliberate step closer, passing Olena’s left—“my son is a warrior, always has been. The best Kint has to offer, the best Xenith has, actually.

  “All his life he’s trained, preparing for greatness. I groomed him to not just rule one kingdom, but—”

  “Three.” She couldn’t move as he continued to approach, but it was nothing like the paralysis Trystan caused in her. This was terror, pure and undiluted. Simple. The Rex was angry; it was so obvious now, she was actually shocked she hadn’t seen it before. He was furious, and that fury wasn’t directed at his son.

  It was directed at her.

  “Not stupid after all,” the Rex said. “Trystan insisted upon that fact, but I couldn’t be sure it was truth and not just a fanciful exaggeration concocted by his infatuation with you. All this hard work, years of preparation, of sacrifice, and he was willing to give it all up. For a human.”

  “You made him believe you were on his side,” she whispered.

  “My son isn’t stupid, either, Miss Grace,” he
disagreed. “Blinded, certainly, but not stupid. He knew when he left it meant leaving you behind, and he did it anyway. He chose his future, the right future.”

  Delaney barely resisted the urge to reach up and touch the necklace she still wore. She’d tucked it under her shirt before coming down here, not wanting to rub it in Ruckus’s face, but she hadn’t taken it off.

  How much of this was really a father lying to a son, and vice versa? If the Rex was to be believed, Trystan had been in on this from the get-go. But Trystan had told her he no longer intended on taking Earth, and she’d believed him. Had that just been a means of making her complacent?

  “Oh, come on.” Olena shook her head. “You can’t honestly be debating over this, can you? This is Trystan we’re talking about here.” She heaved a frustrated sigh when Delaney didn’t respond. “What was that thing you said to me back on the ship? Right before you stole my Ander and ran back home? ‘If Trystan ever found out you’d deliberately tricked him, he’d be murderous.’ That was it, wasn’t it?”

  Delaney had been warning Olena against spilling their secret. She’d hoped reminding her that Trystan wasn’t the forgiving type would keep her from telling him the truth about where she’d been, and who’d been posing in her place.

  “Trystan needs me.”

  “No, Miss Grace,” the Rex said, and clucked his tongue, “I’m afraid he does not.”

  “He’s got me,” Olena added. Then, at Delaney’s confused look, she elaborated with, “I’ve come around to the idea.”

  And all it had taken was the murder of her father and a couple of weeks in a cell. Awesome. Any other time, Delaney probably would have been relieved to hear Olena was finally willing to accept her betrothal to the Zane. Now, though? Not so much. Not if it meant what she was afraid it did.

  “Think about it, Ander; you’re a smart man.” The Rex turned to him. “A strategist. Who’s going to complain about having Olena as Basilissa/Regina when it means avoiding having a human there? No one. It’s brilliant, and thanks to my son, it’ll put an end to resistance. People are prone to accepting the lesser of two evils.”