Page 79 of The Alien's Cruel Starfrost Domain

The raya pauses and turns back to stare at me intently, and then points at the baron. “Kill him.”

Before I can respond, Lara pushes back into the kitchen long enough to grab the raya, and then dives through the door once again, this time with Kila in hand.

Svalkat tries to speak as soon as Lara and the raya are out of the kitchen, but I push the knife in harder against his neck, and he stops. A wind from nowhere swirls around my ankles, bringing with it the cold violence I’ve wanted to slide into the baron since the first time he looked at Lara. I lean forward until I know my frozen breath will brush against his face and whisper, “Move again. Ifuckingdare you.”

The baron drops his gaze to the floor. Hoarse with fear, he rasps out, “My apologies, Your Lordship.”

I’m about to blast him with my power, but at the last moment, I change my mind, some part of sanity reminding me that if he dies here, more Icecaix will be sent to learn the truth of his death. And I cannot allow that. I don’t have time for petty investigations.

However, if he walks away with a terrifying story of my wrath, it will only enhance my terrifying reputation.

Slowly, I sheathe my dagger, considering for a moment which direction to take this. Meanwhile, the baronwatches me, hoping my anger is dissipating, his cunning gaze for once offering him nothing more to grasp hold of.

But the longer I think about what to do, the more certain I become of one irrefutable fact. Baron Mib Svalkat might deal in information. He might buy and sell tidbits that can hold people’s lives hostage.

We may both be Icecaix—but he has limits I don’t.

I am the High Duke of Starfrost Manor, and I deal intruepower.

I reach out and tap my forefinger to the baron’s hand.

“That’s a lovely ring,” I say. Somehow, I manage to keep my tone pleasant.

The baron’s gaze flies to the ring and then back up to my eyes, his expression confused.

“It’s your family crest, is it not?”

“It is,” he says warily.

“May I see it?”

“Of course.” He reaches up to twist it off, but I shake my head and tap the ring, again using my forefinger.

This time, though, I put my power behind the touch, sending waves of cold through the ring and into the baron’s finger. His eyes widen, and he swallows. I watch him as the little color remaining in his face drains away, true pleasure coursing through me at his expression.

Svalkat’s whimpers catch in his throat as the cold seeps deeper, crystallizing blood and marrow. I press closer, savoring his fear as I clamp my hand over his mouth and slam him against the corridor wall hard enough to rattle his teeth. Tears well in his bulbous eyes and freeze instantly, tiny diamonds of terror clinging to his lashes. My smile stretches wider as I lean in until my lips brush his ear.

“Touch what is mine again,” I breathe, letting ice coat each word, “and I will freeze you from the inside out, one organ at a time, until you beg for death. This is your final warning.”

His frantic nodding vibrates against my palm, but I’m not finished. I maintain the pressure over his mouth, watching frost spread beneath my fingers as his skin turns blue-white. Only when the numbing coldreaches deep enough to silence his muffled sounds do I ease back slightly.

I could release him now. He is Icecaix—his body will heal, regenerate what the frost has damaged. But that’s not enough. I need to carve this lesson into his flesh, leave a mark he’ll never forget.

My father’s blade slides free with a whisper of steel on leather. Svalkat’s eyes roll wildly in their sockets as panic floods his system. Frozen tears crack and fall from his lashes like broken glass.

I flip the knife in my hand, and for one beautiful moment, hope flares in his gaze—hope that shatters as I slam the hilt against his brittle finger. The crack echoes through the corridor like breaking ice on a frozen lake.

His finger splinters like ceramic, disintegrating into a shower of frozen meat and bone that patters against the floorboards like macabre rain. His ring hits last, spinning on the wood with a musical chiming that makes my smile stretch into something feral. I stoop to retrieve it, admiring how the blue stone catches the light.

The ring is cold in my hand as I examine it, running my thumb across the center stone where tiny cracks now spider through the blue crystal. Power pulses within it, weaker than it should be—like everything else in our failing world.

“Hmm.” I shake my head with exaggerated disappointment. “The craftsmanship isn’t nearly as fine as I’d thought.”

Flipping my knife with deliberate slowness, I use the point to lift the ring, letting it dangle from the blade.

When Svalkat reaches for it with his uninjured hand, I pull it back. “No.” Violence threads through my voice. “Take it with the other one.”

His eyes widen in horror as my meaning sinks in. The mangled stump where his smallest finger used to be oozes sluggishly, blood freezing before it can drip to the floor.

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