Between Frost and Fury

by Chani Lynn Feener

  “I’ve rearranged some of my schedule,” he told her a moment later, clicking one last button before returning the device to his pocket. “We’ll have lunch together. Unless of course you’d prefer to rehash yesterday’s events?”

  Obviously not. She shook her head.

  “Very well.” He angled his chin to the left and began walking. “We’ll need to gather a few things first. A proper covering, for one. You’ll freeze if you go out like that.”

  “We’re going outside?” They passed a window as she asked, and she got a great view of the frozen mountains and hills. “What do you have to do out there?”

  “I have responsibilities,” he said. “My world didn’t stop turning simply because you arrived.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Hurts”—he glanced at her—“doesn’t it?”

  “What’s that thing called?” She pointed to his pants, wanting to change the subject. “The device you’re always using?”

  “The Ander didn’t tell you?” He grunted. “A shing. It’s similar to the tablets you’re used to on Earth. I can use it for communications, reprogramming, et cetera. It’s the easiest way for me to keep connected with the rest of Kint while we undergo this inconvenient process with the coordinator.”

  “What if it gets stolen? Isn’t all your information being in one place kind of risky?”

  “They’re genetically programmed, so no one can access it but me. In the off chance someone attempts to hack it, it’s set to self-destruct. It’s a harsh preventative measure, and few implement it, but it’s handy.”

  “I suppose it would put a lot of people off trying.” Why bother committing treason when the end results were so bleak?

  Trystan brought them to a foreign room, leaving her in the sitting area for a moment while he disappeared through a side door. The coloring here was different, a smattering of blues in darker shades and grays instead of the typical whites. A bookshelf took up the center of the left wall, but unlike the shelves in Ruckus’s room, which were stuffed with novels, these held a mixture of books and other items.

  She was inspecting one of them, a silver statue of a creature that could only be described as a mixture of a horse and a swan, when she heard him return.

  “Here.” He draped a thick coat over her, his hands lingering on her shoulders a beat before pulling back.

  The jacket was deep red, with a high collar and bronze buttons. There were small Es embossed on the surface of all seven of them, and she twisted one in her fingers as she turned.

  “It’s custom-made,” he explained, slipping on a pair of white gloves. He tugged a matching pair from his right pocket and held them out for her.

  “What’s it doing in here?” she asked absently, taking the gloves from him, careful not to allow their fingers to touch. The material was soft and smooth, and when she slipped the gloves on, they were extremely warm.

  “It only arrived this morning,” he said. “I didn’t have the chance to drop it off yet.”

  She took another glance around the sitting room, noticing how polished everything seemed. There was personality, like the odd statue of the unknown creature, but it was subtle, everything else giving off a feel of detachment. A coldness.

  “These are your rooms.” She felt stupid for not realizing it sooner.

  “They are.” He watched her for a moment, but when she refused to look back, feigning interest in the items on the shelves once more, he sighed. Another jacket in blue was folded across one of the arms of the couch and he donned it in one sweep.

  She was standing too close to him and got a whiff of that cucumber-basil smell. She’d found it strange before, expecting him to smell more like gunpowder or something else overtly masculine, but now it was fitting. Everything about him was always unexpected.

  “Delaney.” Her name was a whisper, and though she’d heard it, it took her a second to process. He seemed closer than before when she finally looked up, his body hovering only a few inches away.

  He had a gorgeous face, there was no question about that. There never had been. It was the rest of him that always made her blood boil.

  “Delaney,” he repeated, easing even closer.

  “It’s too bad you’re such an asshole,” she murmured.

  Instead of getting offended, he canted his head, his gaze lingering on her mouth. “Would it make a difference? If I weren’t?”

  It took her longer than it should have to catch on, but once she had, she straightened her spine and hardened her expression. She didn’t want to run him off again, but she also wasn’t going to change the way she reacted to him simply because he’d finally shown a different emotion.

  “No.” She thought of Ruckus, and felt her heart clench.

  “Because of him.” It wasn’t a question. His mouth thinned in a displeased line. “You’re in love with him.”

  “Yes. Have you ever been in love, Trystan?” Delaney tried to picture it, the cold and aloof Zane letting loose with someone, smiling and laughing. The way she did with Ruckus.

  His response was quick, no hesitation. “No.” If her question bothered him, he didn’t show it. His expression never changed, didn’t soften or harden. He searched her gaze with his own and then asked, “What does it feel like?”

  She lifted a brow. “Do you really want to know?”

  “I should, shouldn’t I?” He licked his lips. “How else will I know what it is when I feel it?”

  “You just will.” Still, she thought about it, about how Ruckus made her feel and how she could put it into words. “It feels like life finally makes sense. So much so, that you’re baffled by the fact that you’ve gone so long without knowing this person. Wondering how you managed. And you’d do anything for them, willingly. Happily. You want what’s best for them, whatever it might be, and you know that they want the same for you. They make you better. Stronger.”

  She’d liked her life before all this had happened. She’d been happy, excited for college and glad for Mariana. If anyone had asked, she would have told them she was perfectly content. Then Ruckus had decided to come back with her, and everything had changed. Suddenly she wasn’t just living her life; she was building one, with him. He didn’t magically make the world all good all the time, but his presence had certainly helped chase away the clouds on those days that felt endless.

  “They make it worth it,” she added.

  “What?” He sounded sincerely interested, and when she focused on him, she saw he was hanging on her every word.

  “Everything.”

  A small frown line formed between his brows. It was cute, in that sweet way. Proof he had no clue what she was talking about. He carried himself like he knew everything, cocky and self-assured, but not now. Now he was just like everybody else, asking about love like it was actually something that could be explained.

  “What needs to be done outside?” she asked abruptly. This conversation suddenly seemed like a bad idea. Talking about her relationship with Ruckus, even as broadly as she was, couldn’t lead to anything good. He was already looking at her like she was speaking a foreign language. What if he kept prying?

  He blinked, and then must have come to the same conclusion. Piece by piece he rebuilt his walls, and it was like watching an actor prepare for a difficult role. His shoulders pulled back, and he stretched his spine so that he was at his full, towering height. Finally he smoothed his palms down the front of his shirt and zipped his jacket up over it.

  “Let’s go.” His voice had firmed, all business once more.

  They were quiet the rest of the way, until they’d crossed to the opposite side of the castle. When they turned the corner, Delaney’s steps faltered and Trystan slowed, allowing her a moment.

  Two large glass doors showcased a snow-covered patio. There was a circular table with five clear chairs around it. Even though there were plates and platters filled with various foods, the snow on the surface of the table hadn’t been cleared. A picture had been painted with white and silver
on the edges of the two doors, swirls of snow blowing across a frozen lake at the left, and looming mountains at the right. It made the real table, which could be viewed between them, seem like it came from another world.

  Delaney would have scoffed at that thought, considering it was accurate, if she hadn’t been so engrossed with the snow both on the ground and piled high in clumps surrounding the table. Back home it’d be glittery in the bright sunlight, but here the sparkle was so much more than mere gold or white. There were hints of icy blues and pale pinks. She saw sparkles of light green and bold oranges. Every time she turned her head, the sunlight hit it a different way, giving her a new burst of color. Almost like someone had dumped a vat of confetti into the snow.

  “It gets better,” Trystan assured her, done waiting. He pressed against the narrow of her back, urging her forward. It didn’t take much prompting.

  There weren’t guards stationed, so he had to open the doors himself, waving her in before him. Usually he entered a room first, but she didn’t hesitate, not once, even considering there could be danger on the other side.

  It became clear why he’d been so sure a moment later, when she stepped beneath the arch and could finally see the rest of the room. Seven Tellers stood around the perimeter, forming a wide circle, their fronts facing inward.

  The doors hadn’t led outside at all. Glass walls created a bubble around the patio, encasing a good chunk of snow-covered land, blocking out the rest. There was a domed ceiling, with panels in the center that she imagined retracted to allow the snow in. They must have been closed recently, considering how much of the stuff was here. It was identical to the room back in Vakar where they’d met Gailie, only there it’d been spring and filled with greenery.

  There wasn’t really much to see outside except for more white. Off in the far distance she could make out a few mountains, but aside from that and the beginnings of a forest to the left, it was all sweeping snow on rolling hills.

  “Delaney!” Dominan appeared from around a snow mound and leaped at her.

  She braced for impact, but it was still somewhat unexpected, and he ended up pushing her back a few feet. She might have stumbled farther, except Trystan was suddenly at her back, propping her up. With Dom’s arms tightly wrapped around her waist, it was impossible for her to move away from the Zane, and she felt her cheeks begin to darken.

  Trystan’s hands were at her shoulders, and his front was pressing against her back so that she could feel the solid weight of him. He was tall enough that she was sure if she tipped her head, their eyes would meet.

  “Hello,” Dominan said, finally pulling away, giving her the opportunity to do so as well.

  She tried not to make it too obvious, stepping off to the side and crossing her arms. It was a forced casual stance, and she refused to look at Trystan, already knowing that he’d easily see through her. “I thought you might like to eat with Dom, and had lunch relocated,” Trystan told her. He glanced at the table and quirked a brow. “Did you start without us?”

  “Sort of.” The boy didn’t seem guilty in the least. “It was getting warm.”

  That piqued Delaney’s interest, and she sent Trystan a look, which he easily deciphered.

  “I picked foods that are best served cold,” he explained. “It’s why I thought of changing the venue to this room when you suggested we eat together. These”—he stepped toward the table and she moved after him, watching as he lifted something from a blue bowl—“are one of my favorites. Taste.”

  He pinched a small black cube between two fingers and brought it to her lips. When her eyes trailed over to Dom uncomfortably, Trystan grinned.

  She opened her mouth and allowed him to place the food on her tongue, practically snapping her teeth down on his fingers faster than he could pull back. The texture of the cube was slick and grainy, the taste unidentifiable for a second before a burst of sweetness exploded.

  It was chewy, but it quickly began to dissolve so that by the time she swallowed, it didn’t feel like there was much left in her mouth. She couldn’t compare it to anything back home, but found that she liked it a lot.

  “You have a sweet tooth,” she noted, recalling his favorite drink. She did a perusal of the table, a tad disappointed when she didn’t see any steaming cups of squa.

  Trystan motioned toward one of the Tellers with the same two fingers. He must have said something to the tall Kint through their fittings, for the guy gave a single nod and then left. Without skipping a beat, the Zane picked something else from the table.

  “I thought you might want to try fruy.” He held a triangular pastry out to her. “After hearing us talk about it the other day.”

  “That depends,” she said, though she was already taking it. “Did Yalla make it?”

  “Of course.” He smiled, and before she could help it, she smiled back.

  The pastry was flaky, and in that sense, familiar. Because of this, she expected some type of fruit flavor in the center, but the filling was more like a chocolate custard, surprising her.

  “You really have a sweet tooth,” she repeated, then polished off the dessert. Now that she was eating, the hunger from earlier was returning tenfold. “What else is good?”

  “All of it.” He selected a light-pink item that was as thin as a crepe and the size of his palm. Before giving it to her, he rolled it into a loose tube and then dipped it into a small bowl of yellow powder. “Try this.”

  He didn’t hand it to her like he’d done with the fruy, instead opting to hand-feed her a second time. With all the onlookers—the Tellers weren’t directly staring, but they were still witnessing everything—he knew it was impossible for her to protest. This was part of the agreement, part of the game. Convince them all that their relationship was legitimate, and this was just the type of gross, cutesy thing a real couple would do.

  She almost rolled her eyes, leaning forward to take a bite, then narrowed them instead when she was close enough to him that she was sure no one else would see.

  He chuckled, but the challenging air never left him.

  “Seriously.” She swallowed the sugary concoction and then reached out to pluck the rest of the pink roll from him. “How do you stay so fit?”

  Her eyes roamed over his body, lingering on his arms and the place where his abdominal muscles were under his thick coat.

  “I’m fortunate,” he replied, and then stole the last bite from between her fingers, popping it into his mouth. “These are all traditional breakfast foods. I like breakfast.”

  “You love breakfast,” she corrected him. “Don’t lie.” There were at least another seven foods she’d yet to try, all of them probably just as sweet as the ones she’d had. “Breakfast in Vakar was not like this.”

  “I recall your distaste,” he grunted, and chose something else from the table.

  She didn’t bother to inspect it this time, opening her mouth and letting him place whatever it was on her tongue while she glanced at the other items. It started tart, with a crunchy consistency, and then shifted to salty-sweet.

  “Have you ever had a salted caramel?” she asked, pointing at her mouth. “This reminds me of that.”

  “I’ll add it to my list.”

  She met his gaze. “What list?”

  “All the things I’ll have to try when I’m on Earth.” He glanced away as he said it, feigning interest in the food, rolling one of the thin pink circles for himself.

  She waited while he ate half of it before asking, “You’re going back to Earth?”

  “It’s what you told the councils,” he said, still not looking at her. “We’ll be going back to Earth, eventually. For a visit.”

  He didn’t have to bother with the implication that they wouldn’t be staying, but she didn’t point that out. Arguing with him, while usually comforting in its familiarity, seemed like way too much effort right now. After yesterday especially, she just wanted a moment where neither of them had to worry about what the other was saying.

&
nbsp; Considering the way he’d just put this Earth business to her, she got the feeling he was on the same page. He didn’t want to upset her, so he didn’t want her to take his mentioning of it the wrong way.

  For some reason, she found that really nice, that he would bother to try to soften the blow at all, and was stupidly about to say so out loud when the Teller who Trystan had spoken to telepathically returned, carrying a silver tray with three glass mugs.

  She immediately recognized the squa, and couldn’t help but smile when Trystan took one of the mugs and sipped it first before handing it carefully to her.

  His gaze met hers over the rim of his own as he drank, steam wafting around his face. How he’d known that was exactly what she’d been looking for when she’d checked out the table was beyond her, but for once he didn’t seem to be gloating over it.

  Thankfully Dom stopped their stare-off before it could become a moment, tossing a snowball at Trystan. The cold ball came flying, smacking into the Zane’s side, catching him off guard. It didn’t stick but immediately burst into a fine powder of pale glitter.

  “It’s rude to not pay attention to your guests, Uncle Trystan,” Dom said through laughter.

  Delaney waited for a reaction, expecting the Zane to brush the remaining snow residue from his jacket, maybe even readjust the collar for good measure—because god forbid he be out of sorts, fashion wise. But he didn’t do either of those things.

  In a move almost too fast for her to follow, he ran his right hand across the surface of the table, taking up a large handful of snow, and tossed it at Dominan. He grinned when the misshapen ball hit its mark, landing at the center of Dom’s chest.

  She was so shocked, she stood there dumbly as the two of them began firing more snowballs at each other. She didn’t even move out of the way when a few came close to hitting her. Trystan playing with a kid was not what she expected. Ever.

  Yet here he was, and he was having fun, too. The two of them were both laughing, dodging and weaving. Trystan was using the table as a shield, ducking down to its level whenever Dom lobbed one close enough to hit him.