Page 29 of The Alien's Cruel Starfrost Domain

I stumbled inside and leaned back against the closed door. This was a nightmare. It had to be a nightmare, right? There was no way any of this had happened. Not really. My stomach clenched, and I heaved again.

If it was a nightmare, then none of it could be true. Because nothing that had happened in the last twenty-four hours could possibly be real.

That hope hasn’t really faded since…

Yet I keep waking up to discover it’s still not a terrible dream. So every day, I continue to try to find a way home.

At the same time, I can never forget the crack of the boy’s neck breaking, the way his feet continued to swing above the platform. And I know that Ivrael will consider the escape I’m planning an act of betrayal.

The kind of betrayal that might very well lead me to the same fate as that boy.

CHAPTER 9

IVRAEL

I’m not a monster.

Or so I tell myself in the cold still darkness of a Starfrost night. My plan is necessary. And if it requires sacrificing innocents—well, it will save thousands more.

That has become the mantra I repeat to myself almost as often as I repeat the details of the plan itself. And yet I never quite believe it.

I know myself too well.

In the end, it doesn’t matter what I am, I’m sure. Beast or hero, it’s all the same—my actions will not change. In less than a single ten-day, I will return to Earth to acquire the younger Evans sister, and then I will begin the next phase of my plan.

The plan that will lead to Lara and Izzy Evans’ deaths and my world’s salvation.

But there are things I need to set in motion here before I can leave Trasq, starting with arranging to meet with my firelord contact—riskier now that one of Jonyk’s spies is in my household.

I spend the morning taking care of some of the smaller details of the estate—in particular, some elements of commerce. I also take thetime to write to Lord Vazor, trusting the firelord will recognize my veiled request to meet.

When the letter is sealed and addressed, I take it down to the foyer myself.

To be sure, I could ring a bell to bring a footman to me, but I’ve been trapped at my desk dealing with estate matters for several solar-clicks already, and I feel the need to stretch myself. I’ve been cooped up in the same place for far too long now.

And worse, I can feel the conjunction of the double full moon moving toward me like a living creature, winding itself around my bones and joints, exerting a subtle squeeze, a pressure as sure as a heartbeat, counting down the days.

That strain will only get worse—it’s headed my direction, and soon I will have to answer. It’s coming, no matter what schemes I put into place.

For now, though, I shake off the thought. I have more immediate issues to deal with. Perhaps later, I will go for a walk in the woods, stretch myself as much as I am able to here and now.

The rest will have to wait.

Still, I find myself all but running down the stairs in the meantime, taking the steps two at a time, unable to completely restrain my need to take quicker, longer strides.

I hand the sealed envelope to the new underbutler, the young Caix male from the village who is training to join my security team. “You know where to take this, correct?”

And at just that moment, the baron pops up out of nowhere. I’m beginning to wonder if he uses some form of concealment magic or if he has merely perfected the art of sneaking about.

“Oh, you have letters going out?” he asks brightly. “I have a few I need to post as well.” He points at the underbutler, whose name I never can remember. “Do not go anywhere. I’ll return momentarily with my own post to add.” The baron spins on his heel and scurries off. But not before I see him give a sidelong glance at the address on the envelope.

The underbutler waits until Svalkat has disappeared up the stairs,and then turns to me, wide-eyed. “But this letter isn’t going through the regular post, is it?” he stammers.

I give him a pat on the shoulder. “Not to worry. You can send Fintan to the village to drop the baron’s letters. Just don’t let Svalkat see you hand them off, yes?”

The boy looks worried but nods.

I try to tell myself it doesn’t matter if the baron sees that I am communicating with a firelord. After all, as the only Icecaix estate bordering the firelords’ lands, Starfrost has for generations been the conduit for what trade our two peoples conduct.

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