They blinked at her.
“Dirty minds, dudes.” She rolled her eyes.
“How are you not exhausted right now?” Ruckus asked her, seemingly genuinely curious about the answer. He reached for her hand when she came close, linking their fingers naturally while keeping his yellow-green gaze steadily on hers.
“I just finished my last year of high school, remember?” she said. “Try studying for a biology midterm three nights straight, then you’ll understand. I suck at science. Seriously, suck.”
“That’s what I’m here for, D.” Gibus collected all the cards back into a deck. “I’m going to hold you to that rematch. I was really close to getting the upper hand.”
“No.” Pettus shook his head. “You were not.”
“I was!”
“Get some rest,” Ruckus ordered them, tugging her gently toward the doors.
“Yes, sir!” they both said mockingly, laughing afterward.
“You understand that’s not what I meant,” Ruckus said once they’d entered the hall. “When I left earlier, you were—”
“A mess?” She shrugged. “I still am.”
“You’re hiding it well.”
“Isn’t that the point?”
His hand tightened around hers. “Not with me, Delaney. You don’t have to hide anything with me.”
“I don’t have to fall apart, either, no matter how badly I want to.” She leaned her head against him. “But thank you.”
For a moment she allowed herself to bask in the contentment, and even contemplate how it was possible for her to feel so relaxed after a day like she’d just had. There was still that underlying sense of fear, but it’d dimmed some over the past couple of hours. Pettus and Gibus had really gone out of their way to keep her mind off the Uprising. Friends really could get you through anything. And that was when she realized that was what she considered them now. Friends.
Weird.
“I never thought I’d be here,” she said softly, breaking the comfortable silence they’d been walking in. “That this type of thing would happen to me.”
“What type of thing?” he asked.
“Being let into your crazy world.” She glanced up at him.
“You mean being forced into it,” he reminded her.
She shrugged again. “Maybe that’s how it started, but I can’t regret everything. Some really amazing things have come out of your kidnapping me in that alley. I know about things that I never would have otherwise, seen things people back home will never have the chance to.” She made a face. “Tasted some things, too, but we won’t talk about that.”
He chuckled and turned them down a corner, bringing them to the opposite end of the hall that led to her room. Stopping before a different door, he glanced at her frown, the only response the curving of his lips as he pressed his palm against a flat panel at the right of it.
A green light passed under his hand, followed by a quiet buzz and a clicking as the door latch undid itself. The heavy gray door swung inward half an inch, exposing a swath of darkness within.
Instead of opening it the rest of the way, Ruckus turned to her, a seriousness having come over him.
“We’ve swept your room and it’s safe,” he began tentatively, “but as you’ve pointed out, I’m exhausted, and I’d much rather not spend the rest of the night attempting to remain on my feet, worrying that something’s happening to you in that room despite all the precautions my men and I have taken. And you made your stance on going back there very clear.
“So”—he inhaled deeply, bracing himself—“will you stay with me tonight?”
Suddenly she was very nervous, and unable to trust her voice, she managed only to nod. She allowed him to push the door all the way open and lead her inside, adjusting to the darkness for a second before the motion-sensored lights activated.
While he shut the door and entered a code into a similar pad on the right wall, she scoped the place out, increasingly more curious with every second.
His room wasn’t as large as hers, or even as Trystan’s, but there was a homier feel to it. The bed was still massive, yet the comforter was a deep brown with golden highlights that depicted a warm invitation. The pillows that peeked out were a muted gold as well, and silk. The headboard towered a good four feet up the beige wall.
Her eyes lingered on the bed a second too long, and she quickly forced her gaze away, pretending not to notice the pounding of her heart. Palms suddenly sweaty, she rubbed them against her thighs as she moved around the room, feigning a calm about being here that she didn’t feel. She’d agreed before really considering what spending the night with him meant. Would they be sharing the bed? Was she ready for that?
This room was also shaped like an octagon, but instead of a balcony, the entire left wall caved outward, creating another sitting area complete with a couch under a bay window and a ceiling-high bookshelf on either side. Some shelves housed books of various sizes; others contained gadgets and trinkets she didn’t recognize. The door to the bathroom had been left open, so she could see all the similar appliances as the ones back in her own bathroom, but the closet door to her right was shut.
A comfy leather chair was tucked against the small wall between the sitting area and far wall, the crater-shaped center a dead giveaway that he sat there often. There was an end table to its left, a half-read novel on the edge as if to supply further proof. His smell was everywhere, that thick fire pit scent, and she breathed deeply. He didn’t have a skylight, but a concave dome ceiling that was painted black.
Moving over to the side of the bed, Ruckus flicked his finger over the edge of what she’d assumed was just another end table. At his touch, a screen appeared, hovering a centimeter above the faux wood surface. After touching a sequence of buttons, he tipped his head back and stared up.
Following suit, she gasped when suddenly the ceiling came alive, billions of glowing dots appearing as if by magic. They flickered and sparkled like the real thing, surrounded by swirls of purples and bold oranges. It was like looking through a telescope and seeing everything more intensely.
“Sky roofs are a bit of a risk,” he told her, coming up to her side to watch it with her. He rested a hand against the small of her back almost absently, as if instinctually needing to touch her. “I had this made instead. I tried to get Olena to follow suit, but she can be stubborn.”
“This is so much better,” she said breathlessly, finding it hard to concentrate with him near like that.
He smiled and glanced down at her. “I’m glad you like it.”
“You’ll have to install one in my room back on Earth,” she joked, frowning when he tensed.
Swallowing sharply and licking his lips, he took both of her hands and eased Delaney and himself back toward the edge of the bed. Sitting down, he moved her so that she was standing between his legs, the position putting them almost at eye level.
“I have to tell you something,” he said softly. “It’s good news, but I don’t want you to get too excited yet, all right?”
“Sure.” She nodded.
“They found Olena. They’ve got her, and they’re on their way here. It’s a three-day journey.”
A lot could happen in three days. Like, for instance, one of these murder attempts could be successful. Unbidden, she conjured memories of the attack in the ballroom. The heavy feeling of Trystan’s body practically crushing her, the smell of his coppery blood, how it’d all happened so fast …
As if seeing the train of her thoughts, his grip tightened and he shook his head, gaze hardening some. “Nothing’s going to happen to you. I’m going to keep you safe, and in three days I’ll bring you home like I promised. Just keep up this charade a little longer, and you’ll be home free.”
If anything, she was more confused now than before. Lifting a hand to his cheek, she traced the line of his jaw with her thumb, reveling in the feel of him. He’d shaved, but there was still a hint of coarse hair beneath the pad of her finger.
&n
bsp; “Then why are you so down?” she asked, pushing those dark thoughts aside to focus on him. “Like you said, this is good news, right?”
This was what they’d been waiting for, what she’d wanted since the first day she’d woken up on his ship. Magnus had predicted they’d have his daughter in custody by now, and they did. As soon as Olena got here, they could make a switch and Ruckus and Delaney could head back to Earth. She’d be able to see Mariana again, her parents.
And then he’d leave. Because Earth wasn’t his home; Xenith was.
“I’ve been thinking about you going,” he whispered, clutching her hip to bring her closer, “and every time I do, it’s like a piece of me gets torn out. I knew this wasn’t permanent, that all you’ve ever wanted was to get back home. I just wish there was more time, that’s all. Selfish.” He smiled and dropped his gaze in embarrassment. “I know.”
The problem was, if he was being selfish, then part of her was as well. She’d come to the realization that she was going to miss them. Not just Ruckus and the way he made her feel, but Pettus and Gibus also. She wished there was a way she could have her real life back with them in it.
Mariana would find Pettus funny and Gibus adorably strange, and if they’d liked the stories Delaney had told them during cards, they’d love the ones her roommate could share. She could see it now, the five of them sitting around the dining room table, talking about this whole crazy experience. Laughing about it, because by then it would be over and Delaney wouldn’t be scared anymore.
Except, that couldn’t happen, because they literally lived in different worlds. She belonged on Earth, and they belonged here. She couldn’t stay, and they couldn’t go. Leaving Xenith was all she’d wanted since her arrival. She’d never even contemplated that she might end up not wanting to leave them with it.
Delaney lifted Ruckus’s chin and kissed him. It wasn’t gentle, or slow, but a rough claiming of his mouth that she couldn’t quite control.
Because he was right: She did want to go home, and she was ecstatic that it now seemed truly possible, but she didn’t want to leave him, either. It was hypocritical and confusing, and she didn’t know how to explain it without botching it up and hurting his feelings.
She just kissed him, putting all those emotions into that one act. Pouring herself through him and clutching him close in a desperate attempt to hold on to him a little longer. She didn’t know what this was between them, wasn’t sure she could call it love yet, but it was something and it was strong.
She didn’t want to give him up.
And she also didn’t want to give up her freedom.
CHAPTER 22
She woke up in his arms.
He had them wrapped around her waist, holding her back to his front. His soft breaths fanned against her neck from where he’d buried his head against her in his sleep. They were still clothed, him in sleep pants similar to sweats, and her in one of his large T-shirts.
They’d made out for a long time last night, clinging to each other as if the only source of oxygen came from the other’s mouth. Then they’d silently changed and slipped under the covers. He hadn’t pressured her for more, hadn’t said a single word. Instead he’d held her close and they’d dozed off like that, content to simply be in each other’s presence. Not needing any confirmations or promises.
There was a certain freedom in that she’d never felt before, and now in the bright light of day, the reality of that hit her.
Carefully easing out of his hold, she tiptoed around the bed to the bathroom. A mirror stretched over the sink, and she stopped when the lights flickered and she spotted her reflection.
Olena’s almond eyes stared back at her, set beneath dark brows that almost appeared painted on. The Lissa didn’t have so much as a blemish, just smooth, milky skin.
Delaney pressed against a high cheekbone, picturing the smooth curve of her own, the freckles she had. On her real face, there was also a thin scar at the corner of her right eye that she’d gotten as a child.
And Ruckus didn’t know any of this. They’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms last night, were sort of unofficially dating, and yet he didn’t even know what her actual hair looked like. He’d told her not to let it bother her, and she’d tried, but it was hard not to second-guess what was between them, especially now that she was in so deep. Questioning how badly she wanted to go home because it meant leaving him behind? What was that about? People didn’t try to kill her there, for one, and two, she could actually be herself.
On Xenith she was Olena Ond, Lissa of the Vakar, and that was all she’d ever be. If they did discover she wasn’t really who she claimed, a war would start, and she’d probably be murdered for real. The attempts could only fail so many times, after all.
Besides, she couldn’t stay even if she wanted to—which she didn’t. Not unless she wanted to be forced into marrying Trystan and ruling the Vakar—which she also didn’t.
Yet, even knowing all this, when she thought about never seeing Ruckus again, her heart twisted painfully. She’d developed an attachment to him here because of the secret they shared; did that mean there was a chance it would dwindle once she was back among people who knew the real her? Or would this stick with her? Would she be forced to miss him for the rest of her life?
She rolled her eyes, annoyed that she was being so melodramatic. People had crushes all the time, and those crushes ended. This was no different. She wasn’t an idiot; it wasn’t like she was madly in love with the guy or anything like that. She couldn’t be.
And more important, he couldn’t be with her for all the reasons she’d already noted. Sure, physical appearances weren’t everything, but anyone who thought they weren’t at least slightly important was either an idiot or a liar. Chemistry was nature’s way of drawing two likely spouses together. Pheromones and all that jazz held at least some sway over attraction.
People could grow to love one another despite outward appearances, of course, but she was selfish. She wanted it all. She wanted Ruckus to be attracted to her outer self as well as her inner self. What would happen if he wasn’t? What if the second they used Gibus’s device, he took one glance at her and threw up?
It was easy to say there was a bond between them now, here on Xenith, where their lives and the lives of millions of people—earthling and alien alike—hung in the balance. They needed to rely on each other, get close to each other in order to protect themselves and the secret. It was a lot of pressure, and situations like that had a tendency to rush connections and speed up feelings that otherwise might take months or years to form.
Under normal circumstances, would Ruckus even be interested in her? If they’d met at the club, his knowing she wasn’t Olena, would he have noticed her? Would she have caught his eye, at the very least, or would he have overlooked her the same as he no doubt had every other human in the room?
She knew she still would have been attracted to him; without a shadow of a doubt, back home his face would be plastered all over billboards and magazines.
She would have missed out on knowing a really great guy. And he was. He was kind and thoughtful and caring. He was also a soldier who’d dedicated his life to protecting people, and had been given a high-ranking position at a very young age. He had dedication, passion, determination, all things she found very sexy.
“Don’t do that,” his voice cut across the large bathroom then, causing her to jump. He was standing in the open doorway, arms crossed over his bare chest. He hadn’t bothered to put on a shirt, or change out of the low-hanging pants.
Unable to help herself, her gaze shifted lower, roaming over the sharp V formed by his hip bones and the trail of dark hairs that disappeared down his center. His muscles were well defined, and she shivered at the reminder that all that had been wrapped around her only ten minutes ago.
She should have stayed in bed.
“Do what?” She had to clear her throat in order to get the words out, eyes still trailing the contours of his six-pack.<
br />
“Judge what’s going on here.” He stepped forward suddenly, forcing her to raise her gaze and look him in the eye. “Whatever is between us, it’s real. I don’t need to have seen your face for that to be true. Don’t you realize how insulting it is to me for you to constantly think otherwise?”
A bit too late, she figured out he was angry.
“What kind of a person do you think I am, Delaney?” He was rushing on before she could answer. “I wouldn’t care if half of your face was scarred. Or if you were missing a finger, or had no hair at all. I’d get past that, because how you look isn’t all of you.”
He had the uncanny ability to leave her speechless, something her parents would no doubt love to learn the secret to.
She must have kept quiet too long, because he let out a frustrated sigh and ran a hand forcefully through his already unkempt hair.
“If I were missing an eye, would you no longer be attracted to me?” he presented. “Or what if I was short?”
“How short?” It wasn’t the right thing to say, but the words slipped out before she could stop them. Once they were out there, it wasn’t like she could take them back, so she elaborated. “I just mean, if you only came up to my ankles or my thighs, then honestly? I probably wouldn’t be as attracted to you. No. At least not physically. I’d still like you, though. The truth is, as much as people want to believe otherwise, stuff like that does really matter.”
“Then can we at least agree that it’s not everything?” he asked. He covered her hand on the counter with his own, staring at where they touched for a moment. “I promise, who you are means more to me than what you look like. Can you do the same? Or is that really so important to you? If I did get hurt, if I lost an eye or a limb, or got horrible burns,” he said, and licked his lips, “would you still want me?”
Guilt flooded through her at the questioning, insecure look in his eyes. She’d inadvertently hurt him with her doubts, planted some of his own. She hadn’t meant to. It was so easy to forget that insecurities could be passed on, like a disease, and she’d stupidly allowed hers to affect what was between them.
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