Page 47 of The Alien's Cruel Starfrost Domain

I want her.

I will kill her.

And knowing both these things won’t stop either from happening.

CHAPTER 14

LARA

Whenever I’m tempted to believe Ivrael is anything less than evil, the hanging Ivrael ordered on my first day here is always the first memory I pull up.

That horrific spanking is the second. My face burns with embarrassment whenever it crosses my mind—and the worst part of the whole thing is that I think he’s right. There’s a chance that under different circumstances, I might have enjoyed it.

Whenever I imagine what those circumstances might be, I blush even harder. So I avoid thinking about any part of that day at all.

Therefore, I’m thinking of that poor boy’s death in order to remind myself Ivrael is monstrous as I work out the details of my latest escape plan—stealing the map and heading to the firelords to ask for help.

At the same time, I’m also trying to avoid running into Ivrael as I complete my duties for the day.

I hover at the bottom of the servants’ stairs listening for the sound of him leaving his chambers for the day, hoping he’ll stay gone thistime. I hate it when he returns to his rooms before I’m finished cleaning them, when he watches me with heated sparks flashing through those cold, silver eyes of his.

I don’t want to lay eyes on him, but he’s not easy to track by sound. I can’t remember having heard him laugh since we arrived at Starfrost Manor. I wish he would. Maybe then I could avoid him more easily.

But I finally hear him speaking to Khrint, and once he’s gone, I slip into his rooms to clear out his fireplace. I still don’t understand why he uses the fireplace in his room when none of the other Icecaix seem to require heat—except that I once heard one of the Icecaix housemaids saying in tones of disgust that keeping a fire was “a perversion His Lordship enjoys flaunting.”

In any case, it’s my job to light the fire in his sitting room every morning, and that wood is laid in the fireplace in his bedchamber, ready to be lit at night.

Today, I manage to avoid him until I’m back in the kitchen in time for lunch, where I grab a slice of Adefina’s bread.

“Try not to get the heel this time,” Kila instructs me. “I don’t like the hard bits.”

I smile, pull some of the spongy soft middle out of the slice, and hand it to her.

She grins. “Good thing you hate the soft bits, right?”

“Yeah. I hate soft bread. That’s absolutely why I share my food with you.”

She bumps her tiny fist against my shoulder and snickers.

As we help Adefina work on the dinner menu for the next ten-day, I again go over the plans I’ve covered in my mind a thousand times.

I’ll wait until everyone’s asleep, then sneak up to Ivrael’s study…

“Stop daydreaming, girl,” Adefina says, “and put that Starcaix raya of yours to work.”

I glance down at Kila as she scrambles to her feet, her tiny wings whirring in my ear. “This kitchen is too cold,” she announces, pointing at Adefina. “You’re Starcaix. You know I can’t possibly function in here.”

“You’re lucky you get to remain inside at all.”Adefina narrows her eyes at Kila. “If it weren’t for the human, you would have died a long time ago. Now you need to earn your keep.”

The two of them have the same argument every day. And as I knew she would, Kila flits up off my shoulder, swooping and gliding through the air. She scoops handfuls of powdered spices from their bowls and moves from one dish to another, dusting the powder over the dishes. Every time she gets close enough for me to hear her, muttered threats float through the air. “Lucky if I don’t over-season the soup. . . freezing in here . . . fall in her own pot.”

But Adefina hums to drown out the small Starcaix’s imprecations, the cook’s cheeks growing pink as she works, and we continue moving through our chores.

The afternoon meal is the only time during the day I have a chance to sit down. We gather around the servants’ table—all except for Ramira and Oriana, who are both far too proud to sit at a table with non-Icecaix. Or even worse, with a human like me.

Fintan, having come in for the meal, watches me from under his brows, and I realize Kila’s right. He has a crush on me. If I were going to stay here, it would bother me. I’d have to have a talk with him.

But I’m not. I’m getting the fuck out of here as soon as possible.

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