Page 11 of The Alien's Cruel Starfrost Domain

Whatever he saw in Ivrael’s eyes terrified him more than any concern for the police.

I wanted to scream at them both, to demand answers about why our ages mattered, why it had to be both of us.

But my throat had closed up with fear—not formyself, but for Izzy.

Because whatever Ivrael wanted with us, whatever mystical significance our ages held for him, I knew one thing for certain, even then: He would never stop until he had us both. Not unless he was dead.

That was the moment I realized I was going to have to save my sister—and I was willing to kill Duke Ivrael to do it.

Of course, now I know more about what I’m facing. Now I know not even death will stop Lord Ivrael, Duke of Starfrost.

But I have to try.

Surprisingly enough given my steady diet of childhood fairy tales, I never once wondered if Ivrael was a prince coming to save me from my life with Roland. I might not have pegged the duke as the villain when I first saw him, but I knew heroes didn’t purchase their princesses.

As he prepared to drag me away from the market, Ivrael reached out and took my upper arm—not the bruised one that Roland had been holding but the other one—and again, that odd, prickling heat raced through me. Or perhaps it was bitter cold. It was as if my skin couldn’t interpret the sensation, leaving me with an almost feverish chill dancing up and across my shoulders.

That’s when I started to thrash and scream, begging anyone nearby to help me. They didn’t, of course—now I know we were in the Trasqo Market, and people there were used to seeing humans bought and sold.

Then he gave my arm a slight squeeze. It was light, and yet it was enough to make me stop fighting. Somehow I knew if I tried to escape, it would be like trying to fight my way out of metal handcuffs.

His touch was definitely cold, I decided, a burning freeze that sank into my bones.

Then, as if I’d been imagining it, his frigid touch warmed, soothing the irritated skin.

“Come,” the duke ordered imperiously. He gave a tug, and I found myself stumbling after him.

When we were several feet away from Roland, Ivrael tilted his head toward me and murmured, “Not to worry. He will receive exactly the payment he deserves.”

His words startled me so much that I stopped, only to be pulled along a second later when Ivrael continued walking.

Again, I wondered what he meant. But this time, I also hoped I was around whenever Roland got what was coming to him. With any luck, I could be the one to dish out that punishment—preferably to all three of the men who’d been involved in this transaction.

Assuming I got away from Ivrael unscathed. Sadly, that was seeming less and less probable.

Walking away from Roland and the toad-man, we took a sharp turn between two stalls, and an exit appeared in front of us. I’d been right—the market did not stretch out all that far. At least that’s what I thought back then. That was before I knew about Caix magic.

I stopped again, this time digging my heels into the dusty earth and refusing to move.

“Where are we going?” I demanded.

Ivrael glanced at me. His face was even colder than before, his expression assessing, as if he were trying to decide what to do with me—even though he was the one who’d purchased me as if I were livestock at some Texas cattle auction.

“The apple,” he said. Until he held his hand out to one of his servants, I thought he was talking to me.

The man reached into a satchel he carried slung over one shoulder and drew out exactly what Ivrael asked for: an actual apple.

He took the fruit from the manservant and shoved it into my face. “Eat this.”

I jerked away, shaking my head. “I’m not going to eat anything you give me. Besides, I’m not hungry.”

My stomach growled, loudly, and Ivrael raised an eyebrow.

It was the weirdest thing—I could have sworn I hadn’t been hungry moments before. Right up until he held out the fruit.

My gaze was pulled toward it. It was red, shiny. And it smelled better than anything I’dever smelled before.

My mouth watered, and I bit down against the reaction, swallowing. “I won’t eat anything you give me.”

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