Between Frost and Fury

by Chani Lynn Feener

  His body tumbled to the ground with a loud crash. No one approached, though many watched, still in shock, as he bled out on the floor.

  Her first instinct was to blame Trystan. After all, she’d seen him shoot many a person in the past. But when she glanced at him, it was to find his hand still over hers, the other empty at his side. His expression was blank. Like nothing had even happened.

  She turned toward Tilda next, and couldn’t help the short gasp that escaped her when she did. She hadn’t even noticed the metal armband on the Basilissa’s wrist. It certainly hadn’t been there earlier when Trystan had left the two of them alone.

  Tilda lowered her arm, keeping the weapon activated so that it was visible to all. Her left hand, amazingly, was still resting on Delaney’s shoulder.

  “Illust Victus,” Tilda called, and the older gentleman who’d led the ceremony stepped forward, his shoulders stiff.

  “Basilissa?” He angled his head down in a bow.

  “It seems my people need a reminder of the law,” she stated. “Is a member of the royal family allowed to be questioned in an open function?”

  “No, Basilissa.”

  “Or in front of esteemed guests?” She held a hand out toward Trystan, obviously indicating the immense Kint presence currently in the room.

  Even though everyone here knew the truth, that the Kints weren’t guests so much as they were taking over, the Vakar Tellers in attendance all straightened their spines as if being scolded for real misconduct.

  Delaney couldn’t help her burst of shock; the Basilissa had always seemed the meeker of the regents. She’d assumed Magnus had completely run the show and Tilda had merely been along for the ride. It was becoming clear, however, that the Basilissa could certainly hold her own.

  Though, murdering one of your top councilors in cold blood … Kind of scary, and not in the good way.

  “Some of you obviously believe that Zane Trystan’s arrival indicates I no longer have a say in the governing of my own lands. I assure you, this is not the case. The decision to make Delaney Grace the heir was mine, and mine alone, and it will be treated as such from here on out. Those of you who do not heed this warning will suffer the same fate as Fendus Rynd. I don’t care how high a position you hold, or how long our supposed friendship has stretched. Any more attempts to undermine my authority will be considered treason. Am I understood?”

  The resounding agreement was so loud, the room shook.

  * * *

  DELANEY BARELY REGISTERED that they were moving, didn’t realize they were entering the room from earlier until she was already standing in the center of the sitting area.

  She paced in circles, moving easily in her anger despite the heeled shoes, ignoring the way the heavy material of her dress tugged every time she turned too quickly. She felt sick to her stomach.

  Trystan was the one who wanted this. And yet Tilda was going along with it to protect her daughter. She’d willingly just killed one of her own to do it. How was that right?

  If anything, tonight merely proved that this wasn’t going to be all sunshine and rainbows like both Trystan and Tilda suspected. Of course there was going to be outrage. How could they expect anything less?

  Delaney stilled. They wouldn’t. At least, Trystan wouldn’t. He was too smart to leave it to chance. It’d literally only been the three of them up on that stage, the nearest guards a good ten or so feet away.

  She braced herself before she turned to him. “You set it up, didn’t you?”

  His expression remained blank, which only stoked the anger rising in her chest.

  “How much of it?” she asked. “Did you just arm her? Give Tilda the gun in case, hoping that something would happen and she would have to use it?” She paused and shook her head. “No. No, you wouldn’t do that. You’d have a plan. You knew Fendus was going to make a scene. How? Your spies find out for you?”

  His continued stoicism was answer enough.

  “You put him up to it.” The realization brought a fresh wave of fear, and she struggled to bury it. “Did he know he was going to die?”

  “I’m not sure,” he finally replied, cool and casual. “That wasn’t part of the original plan. He volunteered to help stir up the crowd so that Tilda could reprimand him in front of them all. It should have been enough. Why they chose to take it further, I can only speculate.”

  “You honestly expect me to believe that?”

  “It’s the truth.” Finally a note of anger entered his tone.

  Delaney wasn’t sure why, but she believed him. Which meant Tilda had decided to kill one of her oldest friends on her own.

  “You’re monsters,” she growled. “You’re all monsters!”

  He stepped toward her.

  “You’re sick!” she snapped at him. “You’re all disgusting and I want no part in this!” Her hand was at her arm, nails already digging into her flesh to claw out the two tiny gems.

  He was on her so fast, she didn’t have time to blink, let alone get out of the way. Snatching her hands, he twisted their bodies, bringing her up against the cool surface of the window. Holding her was as easy for him as she imagined holding a mall mannequin would be, but that didn’t stop her wild attempts to free herself.

  “Let me go!” She twisted against him, not caring that she was turning her arms at painful angles.

  “You’re going to hurt yourself,” he scoffed. “Stop it. Right now.”

  “I’m going to hurt you!” she promised. “You don’t even care that he’s dead, do you? It doesn’t matter to you.”

  They’d just witnessed a murder, and he was as calm as ever.

  “My plan will go accordingly no matter who lives or dies.” His expression tightened to the point that it was painful to look at. “I promise you that, Delaney. We will be ruling Xenith. Together. Since the moment I decided I was going to bind you to me, your life became the only life that I cared about and I will not apologize for that. Ever.”

  She felt the blood drain from her body, muscles suddenly going lax. That was too much. Hearing him say stuff like that sucked the last bit of energy right out of her.

  It terrified her.

  He caught her, cradling her as if she hadn’t just been all but threatening to kill him. Moving to the bedroom, he placed her on the bed with more tenderness than she expected. Then he sat next to her, combing his fingers through her hair.

  “I’ve finally done it,” he said quietly.

  She couldn’t muster enough energy to speak, but the question was clear in her eyes.

  “I’ve finally frightened you to the point you’ve lost the ability to use your tongue as a weapon.”

  She managed a half grunt, forcing emotion she didn’t feel. “Never gonna happen.”

  He smiled at her, then got up and went back to the main room. She heard the sound of clinking glass, and when he came back, he was holding two glasses, similar to champagne flutes, filled with dark gold liquor. Trystan held one out to her, waiting patiently for her to push herself into a sitting position.

  She was exhausted and needed the backboard of the bed to help hold her up. Taking the flute from him, she watched cautiously. He was so mercurial, there was no way for her to ever know which version of him she was going to get.

  “To the soon-to-be new Basilissa.” He raised the glass and then sipped. When she didn’t immediately follow suit, he quirked a brow. “It’s bergozy.”

  She recognized the teasing lilt in his tone. Was he trying to reminisce?

  Done with the power plays, at least for tonight, she purposefully set the glass down on the end table and turned back to him.

  “That was not what you promised me.” She was pleased to find her voice didn’t quaver nearly as much as she’d feared it would.

  He glanced away, but not before she saw a flash of regret in his eyes. When he looked back, however, there was nothing but anger, making her feel like maybe she’d been mistaken. His fingers flexed around the delicate glass; it was a wonder
he didn’t shatter it.

  “The rest of them joining in,” she said, “that wasn’t part of the plan either.”

  “No,” he conceded. “It was not.” He sighed and leaned forward, setting his drink down next to hers. She didn’t like being this close to him when he was so furious. “Trystan, don’t do anything rash.”

  He stilled, his perch on the edge of the bed instantly less casual. “I don’t do anything without carefully thinking it through, Delaney. Remember that.”

  She bristled but said nothing.

  His eyes momentarily glazed over and he angled his head, indicating he was getting a call through his fitting. Whoever it was with, their conversation didn’t last long. He got to his feet and paused, seeming to struggle with what to say next.

  “Stay here,” he told her. “Sleep. Teller Sanzie will be at the door. You can trust her.”

  “Coming from you, that’s not exactly a glowing recommendation.” She just couldn’t help herself.

  Trystan clenched his jaw. Without another word, he spun on his heel and left, and Delaney heard the main door in the other room slamming shut. Then there was nothing but quiet.

  CHAPTER 5

  Delaney woke with a start. Trystan hadn’t come back last night, and within a few hours she’d amazingly fallen asleep. Probably due to the adrenaline crash.

  She sat up and tossed her legs over the side of the bed, squeezing her eyes shut against the rush of dizziness. Seemed like the few hours of sleep she’d gotten hadn’t been enough, but there was no way she was staying here, no matter how tired she was.

  With nothing else to do, Delaney headed for the main room without bothering to check it first. She jolted when she glanced up to find she wasn’t as alone as she’d believed.

  Trystan ignored her reaction, casually leaning back in his chair at the circular glass table. She noticed that he’d changed into more comfortable wear. His pants were still white, but made of a softer material, and though his shirt was an unsurprisingly cerulean blue, it was more a T-shirt than anything.

  There were two mugs set out, steam wafting from both to flick and twist in the air. The smell was rich and a bit chocolaty.

  “How long was I asleep for?” she asked, noting that the sun was now shining through the windows. Outside, a view of rolling green hills and a pale, almost gray sky, met her. Unfortunately, nothing she’d seen outside of the castle gave any indication what the rest of the planet was like.

  Not that she planned on sticking around to find out. First chance she got, she was gone. But there were stories Ruckus had told her of beautiful places that she wouldn’t mind getting a peek at. If circumstances were different.

  “Not as long as you should have been.” Trystan’s gaze swept over her disapprovingly. What he saw that was such a disappointment wasn’t clear.

  He motioned her to the only other seat at the table, directly across from him, and let out an annoyed growl when she didn’t budge. “I’ve been busy dealing with what took place at the ceremony.”

  “So you didn’t sleep at all?” There was hardly any sign of it. When all he did was continue to stare, she sighed. “Did you at least find out anything useful?”

  “Such as?”

  “Whether or not I have to worry about Vakar Tellers attacking me in the halls, perhaps?” That hadn’t been a concern the first time she was here, but then, Ruckus had been in charge, and she hadn’t been viewed as the human trying to steal the throne.

  “It’s been dealt with. After witnessing Tilda kill Fendus, the rest of the Vakar have dutifully fallen in line.”

  “Do they know that, despite their tradition, I don’t want to be here?” Not that she believed their knowing would be much help. Tilda knew, and that didn’t make a difference.

  “Delaney,” he growled, “enough.”

  “Why do I get the feeling you’re not telling me something?” she said. Rehashing everything wrong with this scenario wasn’t exactly helpful anyway.

  “Probably because you don’t trust me,” he replied.

  She grunted. “What reasons do I have to trust you? You’re controlling, hotheaded, and egotistical.”

  “Has it occurred to you that now might not be the best time to bait me, considering I’ve currently got you so vastly outmaneuvered?” He held up his arm to indicate where they were and the impossibility of it all.

  She opened her mouth, but had nothing.

  When he eyed the empty chair once more, she shut the bedroom door and leaned back against it. It was childish, sure, but right now she’d take her licks any way she could get them, and judging by the clenching of his jaw, she’d succeeded.

  Trystan stood, leaning over the expanse of the table to reach for the steaming mug farthest from him. Bringing it over, he held it out to her.

  Delaney glanced at it, then settled more comfortably against the door. She realized he needed her generally unharmed, but that didn’t mean he was above knocking her unconscious again.

  “I don’t feel like waking up on another ship. Unless it’s headed back to Earth.”

  “It isn’t drugged,” he said tersely. “Now you’re just being ridiculous.” Holding her gaze, he lifted the rim to his pale lips and sipped. His point made, he offered it a second time. Once she’d taken it, he returned to his chair, angling it so he was facing her.

  “You can cut it out,” she said. “This whole casual act you’ve got going? I’m not buying it.”

  He cocked his head, amused. “You think I’m rigid all the time? You know better, Delaney. You’ve seen me relax before. Should I remind you of that time in the bunker? Or out on the balcony?”

  “You mean”—she lifted a hand and began ticking off fingers—“that time directly after I was almost strangled, and that other time when I was almost poisoned with acid? Those times?”

  His gaze hardened. “I had nothing to do with either of those events. In fact, I was the one who helped you evade both deaths.”

  “You killed people.” She clutched the warm mug in her hands, relishing the modicum of comfort it gave. The smell, so much like hot chocolate, reminded her of autumn and drinking out on the porch in the afternoon. Watching the leaves fall. Did they even have that season here?

  “And I’d do it again. When it comes to protecting Kint, I have no limits.” He canted his head. “Don’t think I didn’t notice Pettus in the crowd last night.”

  She blanched.

  “You made a valiant effort, trying not to stare at him too long, but I picked up on your initial reaction. We’re searching for him now. He can’t stay hidden for much longer.”

  Was that what he’d actually spent all night doing? Hunting down her friend? She barely resisted the urge to splash the hot drink in his face.

  Pettus knew this castle better than any of Trystan’s men possibly could. She had to trust he could evade getting caught.

  Still, part of her wanted to ask what would happen if he was caught, though she feared the answer. Fortunately, he changed the subject and she didn’t have to dwell on all the horrible possibilities.

  “I don’t want to hurt you, Delaney.”

  “Just use me to take over the world,” she mused.

  He seemed disappointed in her response, dropping back against the chair with a sigh. After a moment he asked, “Do you remember what we spoke about in the bunker that night?”

  How could she forget? It was hard to hold back a shiver. There’d been a lot of threats made, of both the verbal and physical kind. Tars had been bombing the grounds. Fortunately, it hadn’t lasted long because Ruckus had been able to stop them.

  “There was a lot of talk about how much you disliked me, and didn’t accept me, blah, blah, blah. Oh, and then there was that little gem about how I was passably attractive. That one was great.” She realized her slip too late. That made it sound like she actually cared about his opinion.

  Trystan grinned. “I was talking about how much I hated Olena. You may have been the unfortunate recipient, but I didn’
t know at the time that you were you. It’s her I don’t accept. You’re here because I feel the opposite in regard to our betrothal.”

  “We are so not betrothed.”

  “Except we are,” he insisted. “The whole world, as you put it, knows it. It’s just taking you a little longer to catch up. As for that other thing…” He slowly uncurled from the chair. “To say I was pleased when I was finally presented with a photo of the real you would be an understatement. You’re gorgeous, Delaney. But I was referring to the part where we spoke about being responsible for each other’s people. Remember?”

  She nodded mutely.

  “That’s what these are.” He tapped the mark on his arm, the glittering capital K and X sparkling in the sunlight spilling through the window. “They signify kingdoms.”

  His finger pressed the single blue gem.

  “The green and red will be added after our binding, to signify that your people will then be my people. I don’t just mean the Vakar, Delaney; I also mean Earthlings. Once I’m Rex, they’ll be safe from any further threats of war.”

  The Kints had wanted to invade Earth for decades, held back only by their own fight on their home planet. When the shaky treaty had been built on the betrothal of both rulers’ children, the Kint had agreed to put those threats aside.

  “The Kints want to control Earth,” she said. “They think we’re weaker beings, that we’re beneath them.”

  “They do,” he agreed with a nod. “I don’t.”

  “That’s a lie.”

  “All right,” he admitted. “I don’t think you are. Is that better?”

  It was more believable, anyway.

  “The fact of the matter is,” he went on, “I’ll protect them as if they were my own because they will be my own. As you will be. We can keep each other’s people safe. Our binding will avert two wars.”

  The unspoken question hung in the air above her like a guillotine. She was smart enough to decipher the true purpose of his little speech. If her marrying him would save countless lives, how could she say no? But there had to be another way.