“And the Rex is fine with forcing his only child, and the future ruler of his people, into marrying a woman he hates?”
Heaving a sigh, Ruckus detached himself from his search and came over to sit next to her. Their knees bumped when he turned to better face her, but if he noticed, he made no sign of it.
“The Rex knows that war would mean great losses on both sides. He doesn’t want to risk the lives of his people. It’s his hope that by forcing a merger between us, his son will come to this conclusion as well.”
“You’re saying he does know how Trystan feels; he just doesn’t care?”
“Once they’re bound, it’ll be Trystan’s duty, by both Vakar and Kint law, to protect her. Because she’s a Lissa, that protection must also fall on her people. By making them marry, the Rex is ensuring that his wish for peace is upheld. Even once he’s gone, and Trystan takes the throne, he’ll still be constrained by the binding law.”
“That’s what it’s called here?” She quirked a brow. “A binding? Gee, how romantic. What do you guys call divorce?”
“We don’t.” He shook his head. “We don’t have it. We mate for life.”
She stared, suddenly feeling her cheeks begin to color.
Knowing her train of thought, he chuckled and stood to return to his task of finding her something else to wear. “I don’t mean sex, Delaney. We can have sex before being bound to someone.”
She couldn’t see his face now, but she thought she heard a note of humor in his voice.
“We just take our vows more seriously than humans do. For us, a binding is more than merely marriage. Our species isn’t as fertile as yours. When we bind with someone, we also undergo a practice that syncs our bodies together, sort of calibrating them to fit reproductively.”
Um, what? She sat up and dropped her chin against her palm. “As in, you have to be programmed to have children with someone? That’s what you’re saying?”
“Yes,” he agreed. “Unless we decide to choose a human to bind with, we do.”
She shifted in her seat, suddenly uncomfortable. “So … if you wanted to procreate with a human…?”
“We wouldn’t need to worry about the genetic programming,” he confirmed, not nearly as bothered by this conversation as she was. “It’s only difficult for us if it’s a coupling with our own people. Human biology seems to accept us without the need for such extremes. It’s one reason many of us have chosen to remain on Earth. Here, your only option is to sync your body with another. And it can only be programmed into our systems once.”
“You’ll only be able to procreate with one person?!” She didn’t know why she felt so grossed out by that. Wasn’t it technically the point? You married someone with the intention of being with them and only them for the rest of your life. You wouldn’t even need to think about having children with someone else. Unless …
“What if one of them dies?”
He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “We don’t age the same way as humans. Our life-span is longer, and our medicine has advanced to the point where we virtually can’t get sick.”
“But you can still die, right?” She shifted to the edge of her seat. “In an accident, or in battle.” Otherwise, why be so freaked out about the possibility of a war?
“Yes,” he clarified. “We can still die. To answer your question, if one person bound to another does so, then the one left living is, for all intents and purposes, considered barren.”
“Well,” she said, and let out a slow breath, “that’s shitty.”
“That’s why we take binding with someone very seriously.”
“Not if you’re the Rex,” she corrected, shrugging when he glared. “What? He’s forcing his son to marry a woman he hates, and taking his chance of having children with someone he actually cares about. That sucks.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Please tell me that’s not sympathy I hear in your voice.”
“Of course not.” She waved him off. “It’s pity.”
“Delaney—”
“I feel bad for him,” she said. “Come on, in light of what you just told me, how can you expect me not to? And I thought I was the prisoner here. Nope. That guy is as screwed as I am. No wonder he’s such a jerk.” She held up a hand to stop his approach. “I’m not saying his being a total douche bag is justified, only that I see where he’s coming from, that’s all.”
“Trust me,” he assured. “once you get to know him better, you won’t feel that way anymore.”
“Yeah,” she said, letting the word drag on pointedly, “I really have no intention of getting to know him better.”
“Finally.” He sighed dramatically. “You say something intelligent.”
“Hey!”
Finding what he’d been looking for, he tugged a garment off a rack and turned to hold it out to her.
“Here. Go put this on.”
She stood and gave a mock salute before snatching it from his hand and leaving for the bathroom. His rich chuckle followed her.
CHAPTER 12
The Zane’s rooms were all the way on the other side of the castle. It felt like they had to leave a half hour early just to make it on time, not that it mattered, because Trystan wasn’t even there.
Instead his man, Brightan, had let her in, ordering that Ruckus was to remain outside. The only reason either of them had agreed was because Brightan would be waiting, too. The Kint had mumbled something about the Zane being delayed and then had swiftly sealed her in the massive suite alone.
They’d given the Zane a room similar in size to her own, with the same strange octagon shape. There was even a balcony. However, that was where the similarities ended. For one, this first room wasn’t the bedroom, more a sitting room that had been decked out to look like an intimate dining area for the night. A round glass table big enough to seat four was situated right in front of the window, with a shallow glass bowl set in the center.
When she glanced inside the bowl, she found a single pale pink floating candle, the wick alight with an equally pink glow. Vaguely, she wondered how they got the flame to do that, but curiosity about the rest of her surroundings had her moving on.
Against the wall across from the window overlooking his balcony was a long silver table. An assortment of glass and metal bottles was scattered across it, the liquids sorted from light gold to dark amber.
“He color-coded his liquor.” She sent the thought to Ruckus with a shake of her head. What a freak.
They’d agreed he’d remain close enough for their fittings to connect. They wouldn’t keep the channel open but wouldn’t ignore each other, either. That last part was mostly Ruckus’s stipulation. He was worried about her and what would happen tonight. Since she was worried about the same things, she decided she was okay with having him in her head.
“This brown stuff in tall bottles is alcohol, right?” she added, absently touching the crystal topper of a bottle filled with mud-dark liquid.
“Not the same stuff you’re used to,” Ruckus replied, “but yes, basically. If he offers, decline.”
She snorted. Obviously. Not that Trystan seemed like the type to “offer” often. He’d demand.
The walls here were painted pale gray, and the floor was black. It was almost like the room had been made for Trystan, with its monochrome coloring and cold, steel-like exterior. There were no pictures on the walls, and despite the tables that had been set up, the room felt empty.
Having already explored the sitting room, and assuming that the closet and bathroom were in the same places as in her own rooms, Delaney found herself drawn toward the last door.
It was painted a darker shade of gray than the walls, with a handle such a bright silver, it glinted in the lamplight. She pushed the door open and stepped inside the new room, reaching around the inner wall for a switch to help chase away the darkness. There was no point to that, however, because a moment later a single bulb at the very center flickered and painted the room in a golden hue.
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“Delaney,” Ruckus spoke, but she was too distracted.
She’d walked into Trystan’s bedroom.
The bed was neatly made, the silky navy-blue bedspread so dark, it was practically black, and was without a single wrinkle. There was carpet in here, dark and thick so that her heel-covered feet sunk in.
Unfortunately, that was all she got to see before she heard someone shifting at her back.
“They’re motion sensored,” Trystan’s smooth voice said. “The lights.”
She spun around to find he was watching her from less than ten feet away. He’d stopped near the table, the pink glow from the candle casting wicked shadows across his angelic features. He appeared more the devil in disguise here than she’d ever seen him before, and a tingle swept up her spine.
This was dangerous, her snooping, and as if to reinforce her thoughts, he spoke again.
“But you knew that.” He tilted his head. “Didn’t you?”
Tugging the door to his room shut with a bit more force than necessary, she crossed her arms defiantly over her chest. She knew how ridiculous it was, trying to look intimidating to an alien twice her size, but pride wouldn’t let her back down, or show how embarrassed she really felt at having been caught snooping. And in his bedroom, no less.
“You’re late,” she stated coolly.
“You waited.” His eyes scanned her body languidly. “Interesting.”
She had no idea what he was implying, but there was something. Not wanting to dwell on what she couldn’t figure out, she motioned toward the still unset table. The quicker they got this started, the faster she could leave. She already didn’t like the way he was looking at her, different from the steady hatred he’d carried during their past encounters. No, there was something else there, and the fact that she couldn’t tell if it was suspicion made her even more uncomfortable.
“Are we going to do this or what?” she said with a huff. It wasn’t hard playing the spoiled princess when she didn’t like the guy in the room with her.
If he’d expected a different reaction to his tardiness, he didn’t show it.
“Why don’t you sit down?” he suggested in an almost purr. “I’ll get dinner.”
She chose the chair closest to the exit. It meant she’d have her back to the door and wouldn’t be able to see who entered, but she knew that Ruckus was on the other side and would stop anyone who was a threat to her.
Except, of course, for the Zane, who he’d let right in.
Her choice also meant she had to pass the Zane to sit down, and though she kept as much space between them as possible, he seemed to touch her with his trailing gaze alone. The second she was tucked into the glass chair, her legs beneath the table, he gave a satisfied nod and moved for the bar. His deft fingers reached under the lip, and he pressed a hidden button.
The bottom of the bar opened up, the flat sides pulling to the right and left to expose a hidden inner chamber. There were two wide shelves within, each with two golden trays identical to the ones from breakfast.
Taking a tray in each of his large hands, Trystan slid them out and then brought them over. One tray floated into place in front of her, while the other slid into the empty spot directly across from her. But Trystan had already turned back to the bar, returning with two tall glasses that reminded her of champagne flutes. He held the one with the lighter amber-colored liquid out to her.
“Bergozy is your favorite, right?” he asked, settling into his seat. He lifted his own darker drink, sipping it and eyeing her over the rim.
She placed the glass down to the left of her tray without tasting it. “I didn’t think you paid attention.”
“To your likes and dislikes?” He quirked a thin blond brow. The setting sun outside the large window wall to his right cast a sparkling array of warm tones across his already golden skin. His sky-blue eyes were bright, the ring of crimson around them a beautiful contrasting color closer to burgundy right then.
He’d changed his outfit from before, so that he was wearing an all-blue suit that looked like it’d come straight from a fashion runway. He’d paired the dark navy suit jacket and pants with a crisp shirt that matched the main sky color of his eyes, and had left the first three buttons undone to show an inch of bare chest.
“I don’t,” he finished, draining his glass before dropping it down to the surface of the table with a click. “I assumed dressing as someone from Earth would make you more comfortable, seeing as how you enjoyed your time there so much.”
Great, so he’d caught her eyeing him. Awesome.
“Picking my favorite drink and dressing to impress?” She made a tsk. “Careful, seems like you’re paying attention to my likes and dislikes now.”
“Is it your favorite, though?” He motioned to her untouched glass. “You haven’t even tried it yet.” It was a clear challenge, and he waited patiently for her to rise to the occasion.
She knew she’d agreed not to drink any of the alcohol, but there was no way she could turn Trystan down now. It would be way too suspicious for her to refuse, and would also lead to his thinking she wanted to keep a clear head in order to stay on her toes. The last thing she needed was his knowing how nervous he made her.
Lifting the drink, she took a tentative sip, almost giving herself away when a burst of fruit flavors surprised her. It was sort of like grapefruit and lemons, a combination she would have thought too citrusy but that somehow worked.
She swallowed down another sip and then returned it to the table. A rush of warmth spread through her, and she immediately felt some of the tension ease from her muscles. Which wasn’t good, because she needed to keep her wits about her in order to survive this—possibly even literally.
“You like it.” He grinned then like the cat that ate the canary.
“Did you expect me not to?” Okay, now she was confused.…
“It’s just”—he propped his elbows on the table—“you used to hate it. After seeing you clearly enjoy the Tandem this morning, I was curious to discover what else is different. As I’ve already admitted, I know next to nothing about you, Lissa, other than of course the fact that you’re an indulgent—”
“Child?” she cut him off, quickly taking another sip despite knowing it was a bad idea. “Hmm, so you’ve mentioned.” It didn’t pass by her notice that he’d purposefully left out the part about almost being blown up at said Tandem this morning.
He’d tricked her, telling her that it was something she liked and then divulging that Olena hated it. The real question was why?
“Which makes me curious,” she went on, hoping to get to the heart of the situation, “why I’m here right now. What’s the purpose of us eating together when there’s nothing to do but trade insults?”
Instead of answering, he motioned to the tray in front of her. “You should eat. Go ahead.” His eyes glimmered. “I made sure not to order crumvit.”
Shit. He’d noticed her avoiding the pink stuff on her plate this morning, which she assumed was called crumvit. Just how attentive had he secretly been?
She forced herself to reach out and lift the lid like he’d suggested. “My tastes have changed since my trip.”
“It seems a lot has with you.” He nodded, removing the top to his own dinner.
Delaney blinked down at her plate, at first thinking she must be hallucinating. A glance over at the dish in front of him, however, proved otherwise. A cheeseburger with a fluffy toasted bun and a piece of crisp, vibrant green lettuce sat next to a heaping pile of crispy, browned French fries. There was a dollop of ketchup to the side, as well as another darker one she recognized as barbeque sauce.
The smell was a fresh mixture of tangy spices and medium-cooked meat, almost like she’d just ordered it straight from a restaurant on Earth.
Unable to cover her frown this time, she met his gaze. “What is this?”
“Don’t you know?”
“Obviously—”
“Then that’s a pretty stupid question
, don’t you think?”
“Where did you get this?” she bit out, clenching her hands under the table. The see-through table, so of course he saw, and the corner of his mouth turned up mockingly.
“I instructed the cooks to make it,” he said. “After your reaction to breakfast this morning, I assumed you could use something more familiar. Five years is a long time to be away from home; it’s really not that surprising you’ve developed a taste for Earth food. I myself have never tried”—he circled a finger over his own burger—“this before, so I’m warning you now, if I don’t like it, I’ll be very cross with you.”
“It’s not like I ordered you to get it,” she pointed out, narrowing her eyes.
He chuckled. “You couldn’t order me to do anything, Lissa. Let’s not forget that.”
“That’s right. I’m not the Rex.” She realized mentioning his father was a huge mistake a second later when his eyes heated like daggers and his shoulders tensed to the point that he looked twice the size he’d been a moment prior.
“Neither of us is pleased about this,” she carried on, easing her voice some so that it was no longer taunting or accusatory. She hoped it didn’t noticeably shake. “Is goading each other really the best solution?”
Instinct told her that pushing him right now would be the worst mistake of her life. As pissed as he’d just made her, only one of them was an alien capable of choking the life out of the other.
“We’re both slaves to our king’s will,” he stated. “For now, the Rex dictates my life, and the Basileus dictates yours. It doesn’t mean I have to like it, or you for that matter.”
“I can say the same,” she pointed out. “It’s clear we’re a terrible match.”
“But we were matched.” He picked up his cheeseburger. “And in less than two months we’ll be bound if our fathers have their way.”
She reached for Ruckus, felt the now familiar burn at her neck. “They’re getting married in two months?!”
“That is the current plan,” Ruckus confirmed.
Before she could respond, Trystan made a sound in the back of his throat, something akin to a moan. His eyes were closed, and he was slowly chewing the bite he’d just taken, clearly savoring it.
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