Page 58 of The Alien's Cruel Starfrost Domain

Lara’s hands shake as she works, but her voice is steady. “Thank you for your concern.”

Uanna’s nostrils flare at the lack of courtesy title, but she doesn’t mention it.

Lara backs out of the room without looking at either of us, and it takes everything in me not to follow her.

Uanna slides back onto my lap. “Now, where were we?”

This time when she moves to kiss me, I grab her arms and set her on her feet, away from me. “We were nowhere. And we’re done.”

“Ivrael—”

“No.” I stand, my chair scraping against the floor as I push it away from me..

Her laugh rings out, sharp and cruel. “You might want to keep those passions in check, darling. After all, what would people say if they knew the Duke of Starfrost Manor preferred a human servant to a proper Icecaix noblewoman?”

I pause at the door, ice crackling along my fingertips where they grip the frame. “They might say the same things they say about a lady who trades herself for political influence.”

Her indrawn breath is all the confirmation I need that my barb struck home.

As I move away from the dining room, I remind myself that I have to maintain appearances. I am a duke of the Ice Court. I have responsibilities, duties, plans that cannot be derailed by my attraction to a human girl who will be dead before the year is out.

But goddess help me, all I want to do is find Lara and kiss away every hurt she’s ever felt. Kiss away that expression I’d seen on her face.

Instead, I make my way to my sitting room and pour myself another drink.

I drain the glass in one swallow and pour another.

Perhaps if I drink enough, I can forget the way she returned my kiss tonight. Forget the way she looked at me tonight. Forget that in a ten-click, I’ll have to sacrifice her to save my world.

Forget that I’m starting to wonder if any world is worth her life.

But then my Caixlight sputters and dims, plunging the room into darkness. I curse, focusing on maintaining the simple illumination spell that should require no conscious thought at all.

The light flares back reluctantly, casting weak blue shadows across the room, seeming to mock my weakness. Time was I could fill a light like that with enough power to light the entire manor. Now I can barely manage one room. I reach for another Caixlight, trying to brighten the room enough to continue working. Instead, the first lightgutters out entirely.

“Damn it all.” I slam my palm against the desk, frost crackling out from the impact. But even that instinctive display of power is weak, the ice thin and already melting.

I could call for candles, as some of the other nobles have begun doing. But that would mean admitting defeat. Accepting our decline.

Instead, I close my eyes and gather what power remains accessible to me. When I open them again, three steady Caixlights hover overhead.

The effort leaves me dizzy, my vision swimming. I grip the edge of the desk until the sensation passes.

I drop down into my chair, the phantom taste of Uanna’s lips souring in my mouth. But it’s not her kiss that haunts me—it’s Lara’s expression when she saw us. That flash of pain in her eyes before she dropped the serving bowl.

You have no right to care, I tell myself harshly. She was never meant to be anything but a means to an end. A sacrifice for the greater good.

And yet the memory of her standing there, shards of porcelain at her feet, sends an ache through my chest that has nothing to do with failing magic.

“Fool,” I mutter, pouring yet another drink. My hand trembles slightly, and I tell myself it’s from maintaining the Caixlights.

I need her compliant for what’s to come. Need her to trust me enough to lead me to her sister. If she turns against me now...

But that’s not what truly terrifies me. No, what sends a chill through my veins that ice could never match is the realization that I wanted to go after her. Wanted to explain that the kiss meant nothing, that Uanna is merely a tool in my greater plan.

That she—Lara—is the only one who matters to me.

I slam my glass down onto the desk. This is precisely why I’ve kept my distance all these months. Why I’ve forced myself to treat her as nothing more than a servant. Because the moment I let myself care is the moment everything falls apart.

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