“Should we continue on, Lissa Olena?” he asked her, indicating the next course. “Or would you prefer we stay behind and watch the Vakar attempt to catch up?”
He tried to pull her forward, but she stalled by slowly removing her arm from his. When his hand settled at her elbow, lightly urging her now, she ignored it. Delaney searched for Ruckus out of the corner of her eye, realizing with a start that he wasn’t behind them. At least, not close enough for her to see. Where’d he go? He wouldn’t have left her alone with the Zane, would he?
“Do you think he’ll be all right?” she asked, voicing the first thing that came to mind.
On the field, two Vakar were helping ease the injured player to his feet.
Trystan frowned at her, dropping the hand he’d still had on her arm. “Do you care?”
Because Olena was a self-centered brat who wouldn’t, Delaney recalled too late.
“I’m just concerned we might not win now,” she said in a poor attempt to save face. “His clumsiness cost us.”
If anything, this only caused his frown to deepen.
“Did you develop a liking for sports while you were away as well then?” he wondered, and it was clear from his tone that she’d piqued his interest. Which was the exact opposite of what she was trying to accomplish.
“Right,” she drawled, “along with my newly acquired witty tongue.” Deliberately, she took a step back the way they’d come. “As great as this has been, Trystan, I’m afraid I must excuse myself.”
She was a bit surprised when he didn’t immediately try to stop her, yet he didn’t have too long to ponder over it. Hearing her name, she glanced toward the beginning of the course, squinting against the harsh glare of yellow sunlight. Weird, that the sky was a different color, but the sun and the ground were the same.
“Olena.” Ruckus was quickly making his way toward her.
She took a step in his direction, about to call back, when suddenly an explosion rent the air. The blast came from behind, and she was knocked off her feet and tossed a good ways forward. The motion ended up bringing her closer to Ruckus, who was upon her in a matter of seconds.
Her head rang and her vision winked in and out. Disoriented, she clung to his wrists when he dropped to his knees and reached for her. An acrid smell filled the air, like burning rubber, and she managed to swivel her head around to see that the tree she’d been so close to had blown up.
The tree she’d been close to … but not close enough.
She gasped, and as if of their own accord, her eyes sought out Trystan.
He must have gotten on the ground right away. Aside from his hair being a little mussed up, it didn’t seem like he’d been affected by the blast at all. Their eyes met, and there was no denying the feral look in his icy blue gaze.
He’d tried to kill her.
The Zane, Olena’s—meaning her—fiancé, had just tried to kill her!
*
“IT WAS TRYSTAN,” she whispered as Ruckus rushed her down yet another hallway in that godforsaken labyrinthine nightmare of a building.
He’d lifted her into his arms and carried her all the way back to the castle, his men falling in around him. Now the other five guards had dropped back, trailing behind while keeping watch. As if they were afraid of another attack.
“Did you hear me?” she asked, tightening her arms around his neck. She’d protested initially when he’d lifted her, but truth be told, she wasn’t sure she could get her legs to work right now anyway. “Ruckus?”
“Are you hurt?” His tone was gruff, leaving no room to discuss anything else. “I don’t see any blood. Are you hurt, Delaney?” Her real name had been uttered under his breath.
“No.” She shook her head, and when he didn’t look at her to see, she answered again, “No.” She licked her dry lips. “Where were you?”
His face remained stoic and his steps steady. Wherever they were going, he was determined to get there as quickly as possible. Even having carried her a good half mile now, he didn’t seem out of breath. His grip around her back and beneath her thighs never wavered or loosened.
“We received an anonymous tip,” he revealed, as if unsure whether or not he really wanted to tell her. “I had to step away to take it. I was only gone a second, but you must have picked up the pace, because by the time I got back, you’d moved farther down the course than I’d expected.”
“What was the tip?” She was pretty sure she already knew.
“An assassination attempt.” He took a deep breath. “On the Lissa. I was on my way back to get you. The tip claimed the Tars hoped to catch Olena off guard.”
“But that’s not what you think.” She wasn’t asking.
Finally his eyes met hers. “That’s not what you think, either.”
“It was him,” she insisted. “I know it. He led me straight there, and why place a bomb unless you can anticipate knowing where and when the target will be?” She shook her head. “It was him.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “I believe it was. But that doesn’t matter.”
“What?” She gaped at him. “He tried to kill me, Ruckus.”
“We don’t have any proof,” he pointed out. They turned down another hallway, their surroundings immediately changing. Here, instead of fake wooden walls, the hallway took on a similar feel to that of the ship. White walls loomed around, and while there were still windows sporadically placed, there was no longer any furniture.
Deciding to shelve the subject until they’d both cooled off a bit, she tightened the hand she held at the center of his chest.
“Where are we going?”
“To get you fitted,” he snapped, as if it were a stupid question. “It’s what I should have done the second we landed here.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Of course you don’t.”
“There’s no reason to be a dick about it,” she said, bristling. “I was the one almost blown up, remember?”
Without another word, he pushed them through two light-gray swinging doors, entering a large lab complete with metal workbenches and broken machinery parts. At the way back there was another set of doors, and he shoved his way past just as easily, turning his body so that no part of hers ever took the brunt force of them.
She spotted Gibus in the far corner of this room, fiddling with strange dials on the arm of a padded chair. She vaguely wondered if they went to the dentist on Xenith, or if they were spared that special kind of torture.
A second later it became painfully apparent Ruckus planned on putting her in the chair, and she struggled for the first time, forcing him to pause in his haste to get there.
“Stop it,” he said.
“Put me down.”
“I’m about to.”
“Not in that, you aren’t.”
Sensing her fear, his expression eased, some of the anger dropping away. “It’s not going to hurt you, Delaney,” he said calmly, holding her gaze. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
She tried to look away but couldn’t.