Page 42 of The Alien's Cruel Starfrost Domain

Sometimes I think I still don’t know.

And at that moment, it didn’t matter, as the moaning of the undead drew my attention to the group lurching toward us, now blocking our path to the gate.

“You’re going to have to stay close to me,” he instructed, his tone turning perfectly neutral, as if we weren’t surrounded by Icecaix zombies… vampires… whatever the hell they were.

I realized then that my legs were trembling, and suddenly, I couldn’t walk. As I stumbled, though, Ivrael turned and caught me before I could hit the ground, scooping me in his arms and cradling me against his chest like a child. He pulled me in close, pressing my face into the fabric of his coat.

“You’re safe now,” he murmured, and I found it remarkably comforting.

Then he dropped me to my feet and snugged me in close with one arm. “Don’t look up, don’t make eye contact with any of them.”

“I can’t make eye contact,” I muttered. “They don’t have eyes.”

His chuckle reverberated through his chest. “Then don’t look at them at all.”

I nodded, my cheek scraping lightly against the metallic thread ornamenting the jacket.

We began walking, and I lifted my head away from his chest.

“Pretend they’re not here,” Ivrael reminded me.

“Is that what you’re doing?” My voice came out shaky. I knew it wasn’t at all what he was doing. I could feel the muscles of his torso moving, hear the whistling of his sword as he slashed it through the air, sense the shudder of the metal as it impacted against the Caix dead.

“More or less,” he said easily, not even out of breath—not with fear, and not with exertion—whereas I was worried I might faint from both before we made it the twenty yards or so to the open gate.

I glanced up at his face, though, and saw that it did not match his voice at all. He was carrying on a conversation as easily as if he were at home in his own drawing room, but the muscles in his jaw were knotted and tense, his forehead furrowed with lines of concentration.

When I didn’t say anything, he dropped his gaze to meet mine, and his eyes gleamed silver in the moonlight. But that glance drew his attention away from the undead Caix who had moved to surround us long enough for one of them to get through his defenses. It came at us from his other side, and I caught a glimpse of the movement beyond Ivrael just in time to squeak out a warning, but not soon enough for him to avoid the half-rotted creature’s semi-tackle.

Ivrael stumbled, grunted, and spun around, blade in hand. He took his arm from around me to hold the sword two-handed.

“Stay close,” he told me, and now the strain in his voice matched the expression on his face. He turned back to shove the monster away, giving himself enough room to bring his sword down on its neck, severing its head entirely.

“Does that kill them?” I asked as we moved toward the gate.

Ivrael paused. “Does what kill them?”

“Chopping their heads off.Kind of like vampires?”

“Not exactly.” He shrugged. “But sometimes it sends them back into the Eternal Dream. Close enough.” He glanced down at me, and his voice softened a little. “Now, no more talking. I need to watch for more of them.”

I nodded, willing to follow his directions if it meant we got out of here sooner—and stayed alive while doing so.

Ivrael moved us out of the cemetery as fearlessly as he had entered it, kicking the gate closed behind us with a clang. Trapped behind the gate, the undead moaned and clawed toward it, but never quite touched the metal. Peering over back behind us, I scanned them, the terror clenching my stomach into a tight knot finally loosening its hold, subsiding as I realized they truly couldn’t follow us.

Ivrael glanced down at me, then followed my gaze back to the cemetery. An odd expression, reminiscent of something like triumph, flashed across his face.

That’s when I realized I could no longer see the King of the Dead.

Outside the iron fence stood one of those ice horses glittering in the moonlight. Once again, Ivrael curled one arm around my waist—but this time he lifted me easily.

“Wrap your arms around my neck,” he instructed, and when my gaze flipped up to him, I saw his eyes were glittering, too—only unlike the horses, his eyes glimmered with silver and gold.

Fear and desire.

The words whispered across my thoughts, almost as if they’d been inserted from somewhere outside myself.

I shoved them down deep inside until I could no longer hear them, tilting my forehead to rest against Ivrael’s chest, even as my arms stretched up to wrap around his neck. My whole body thrummed with an aching awareness of him, a physical sense of every place he held me pressed against him. Even wrapped in several layers, that awareness burned like fire.

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