Page 6 of The Alien's Cruel Starfrost Domain

However, it was always wise to pull out all the stops for Baron Svalkat. His rank might not be particularly exalted, but he managed to have a say in the actions of many—if not most—of the noble Icecaix.

But more to the point, I was fairly certain where his loyalties were. Those loyalties could only mean he was here by order of our glorious, exalted leader—and that he planned to offer a full report to the prince.

Prince Jonyk.I snarled as the name skittered through my mind. Trust His Royal Fucking Highness to place a spy in my home just as I’m preparing to move my plan out of its waiting phase and into action.

The last thing I wanted was to draw the prince’s attention to me. I couldn’t afford for the baron to catch even a whiff of my plans for Lara and her sister.

No—better to direct his attention precisely where Iwanted it to go.

So when Baron Svalkat arrived, the majority of my household stood ranked in the courtyard to greet him… except the kitchen staff.

The baron drew up in a sleigh coach drawn on gleaming silver sled runners and pulled by enormous ice-swans gliding across the snow. The conveyance was white and blue, made of glass and crystalline ice—just as Prince Jonyk preferred. Without a single word, Baron Svalkat had announced his affiliation with the prince.

Well done, I thought, though I managed to keep my sneer internal.

A second coach pulled up behind the baron’s, and four blue-clad footmen tumbled out, racing around to pull down the stair steps and open the first coach’s door in a perfectly choreographed dance, timed to coincide with the baron’s first step out of the carriage.

He hadn’t even bothered to check that the stair was in place.

Svalkat raised a quizzing glass to one eye and peered at me through it as he held out the other hand to one of his footmen, who used it to aid him to the ground.

“Ivrael, my dear boy,” the baron said. “I do hope this is not an imposition.”

I swept him a bow, using the motion to hide my snort of derision. The depth of the bow was precisely calculated to convey the idea that I evaluated the baron’s social standing as only a hair less than my own. It was a compliment, and one I was certain he would recognize.

“Of course not,” I said as I stood straight. “You’re always welcome at Starfrost Manor.”

As long as you don’t go anywhere near Lara, I added silently. But of course, I already knew how unlikely it was that I could keep Svalkat from noticing the new woman in my household.

Preemptively killing one of Jonyk’s men won’t do you—or Lara—any favors, I reminded myself.

Still, my hands curled into fists as I turned to lead the baron inside, the thought drumming a tattoo beat in my head over and over again.

I can’t allow him to get close to her. I won’t.

CHAPTER 3

LARA

Technically, I was still seventeen when the man who was supposed to protect me sold me to Duke Ivrael at the Trasqo Market.

Technicalities matter here.

Roland was a fool. Anyone who knows enough to find the Trasqo Market ought to know better than to make a deal with the Caix. Or at least know enough to pay attention to the technicalities.

I only hope the price he paid was infinitely more than whatever he got for me. It usually is. Although my stepfather took the coins Ivrael gave him, I doubt they bought him whatever he thought he needed. The smug prick.

In the darkness of that early morning, terror clogged my throat and kept me from screaming when my stepfather yanked me out of the passenger side of his pickup truck, his enormous, calloused hand holding my thin bicep with a bruising grip. Tear tracks ran down my cheeks, but any wetness had long since dried, my sobbing having given way to the occasional sniffle.

Roland’s betrayal had already hollowed me out, and I didn’t knowthe half of it back then. I only knew he’d come home drunk again less than six months after my mother’s death and announced he was done with me—he didn’t owe me anything, and I ought to be worth something to him.

It had started when he pulled me out of my bed. “Get up.”

I’d blinked, instantly awake. “Is it Izzy?”

He’d scowled as if he found my question deeply stupid. “No. She’s fine.”

I heaved a sigh of relief. Whatever was going on with Roland, whatever awful thing he was about to inflict on me, my sister was safe, spending the night at her best friend Bridget’s house. Her safety was all that mattered.

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