Page 101 of The Alien's Cruel Starfrost Domain

Still, as I turn away, her scent lingers. A reminder of everything I stand to gain—and everything I must destroy to achieve it.

She’s still there, still watching. Still powerless.

Still mine.

I raise my hand, and the musicians fall silent. The crowd turns toward me expectantly, not knowing they’re about to witness their own destruction. My grip tightens on the crop as I prepare to welcome them all to their deaths.

One last glance up at Lara. One last hope that she’ll finally awaken to what she truly is.

But no matter what happens next, I know this night will change everything. By morning, nothing will ever be the same. I just pray she and I both survive what I’m about to do.

“Welcome,” I call out, my voice carrying to every corner of the ballroom. “Welcome to Starfrost Manor.”

The end begins now.

CHAPTER 29

LARA

“Welcome, Prince Jonyk’s honored retinue, cherished guests, old friends and new,” Ivrael calls out, his voice echoing throughout the room. “I invite you to enter my home freely, partake of our bounty, share in everything we might gain during your stay—and leave a little of your happiness when you go.”

Something about that phrasing makes my scalp crawl like a warning is going off inside my head—and I could almost swear I’ve heard it before, though I don’t know where. Maybe just something similar? I see a few Caix exchange frowning glances, so I assume it’s not a normal ballroom greeting among the Caix.

They might not know what I know—that Ivrael is conspiring with firelords—but some of them realize something odd is going on, and when my gaze flickers back to Ivrael, I see him wriggling his fingers in what looks like one of the gestures he uses to do things like call up the ice horses, using the tapping of the riding crop to disguise the motion.

I realize I need to ask Adefina how Caix magic actually works.Though I’m assuming, of course, that Ivrael’s just done anything at all. Maybe he was only fiddling with the crop.

I don’t believe it, though, especially once I see the moment they all decide to shrug it off—all of them at the same time. But any inclination anyone might have had to examine his words further is dismissed quickly enough.

After all, this is the Icecaix Court. Everyone here is always attempting to gain political advantage in one way or another. His odd wording may be part of that political wrangling, the constant plotting and scheming every Icecaix indulges in.

Ivrael’s ice-blue gaze flickers across the ballroom, and then slowly, deliberately, he raises his eyes to the balcony, and then above it. His eyes meet mine, and his lip curls up into a sardonic smile. His glance spears through me like an icicle, pinning me in place, so cold it burns.

Yet that smile curls low in my belly, warmer than it has any right to be, reminding me of the burning need I’d felt for him back in the dining hall, even in his absence. With a slight nod, he raises the riding crop to his forehead in an ironic salute before glancing away to speak to another Caix lord who has stepped up onto the dais next to him.

Kila lets out a string of curses too high-pitched for me to decipher them. “Did you see that? He saw us. I think he saw us. Was he pointing at you with that whip he’s holding? Oh, gods of the green hills, I think he saw us.”

“Yeah, he saw us,” I mutter.

“Do we need to leave?”

I have no doubt he saw us, that he knows we’re here. If I did doubt it, the way that riding crop stilled against his leg before he saluted me, the way that knowing smile curved across his face, would have convinced me.

But he didn’t order us removed, and I don’t think I can pull myself away from watching the Caix twirling below us.

No. That’s not true. I don’t think I can pull myself away from watching Duke Ivrael.

The Caix lord speaking to Ivrael heads toward the dance floor, and Lady Uanna steps up onto the dais beside him.

Shewears a blood-red dress that stands out harshly against her white skin, and the fabric shimmers, flows, and gleams like the liquid it resembles as she leans in to speak to him. Her hair falls forward, and Ivrael reaches up to sweep it back off her shoulder, his gaze meeting mine as he does so. And even from here on the far side of the ballroom, I swear I can see those gold sparks churning in his eyes.

Holding my stare, Ivrael leans forward and brushes a kiss across her shoulder, where his hand has just touched. She smiles, and a hot knife of emotion slices through my chest. At the sensation, dread settles like a heavy stone in the pit of my stomach.

I tell myself what I’m feeling is not jealousy.

It’s just some aftereffects of the wine, of whatever that Icecaix couple forced me to consume. It’s absolutely not jealousy.

I’ve been here too long, grown too complacent. I’ve started acting like I belong here. Like this is my world, and these are my people. But none of it belongs to me. And I don’t want to belong to it.

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