Page 81 of The Alien's Cruel Starfrost Domain

I’ve watched her tiptoe around my domain for the last year, sneaking in the dark, holding herself away from everyone else in Starfrost Manor—or at least trying to.

But everywhere she goes, she leaves parts of her behind. Her scent brushing against me, sliding along my pillow at night. A single hair drifting down the stairwell, caught by the eddies of motion in the air. The echoes of her voice disappearing past me.

She permeates my space, invading it, inhabiting it.

And I want more than anything to do the same to her. To press her against the wall, force her to open herself to me. To press my hardness against everything in her that is soft until she yields.

To slide myself into all her open spaces.

I let out an involuntary growl, and Lara gasps, her lips parting and her tongue racing along the edge so I can barely see it flickering in and out of her mouth.

Her skin seems to pulse with inner light—a shimmer so subtle no human could perceive it, but to my enhanced vision it’s like watching starfire beneath her flesh. Along her collarbone, tiny sparkles dance like the tears I’ve seen Starcaix weep. The sight makes my blood surge with recognition.

When I lean in, pressing her harder against the wall, her scent floods my senses. Yes, there’s the human element—salt and warmth and that intoxicating mortality. But underneath lies somethingancient. Something that calls to the oldest, darkest parts of my magic. Power recognizing power. Blood calling to blood.

Does she feel it? This pull that’s so much more than mere desire? This recognition that makes every cell in my body strain toward her like ice yearning for flame?

I shove the thoughts away. I can’t afford to dwell on what flows in her veins. On how the magic in her blood sings to mine, demanding recognition. Demanding completion.

She is a means to an end. Nothing more.

But my body betrays me. I capture her wrists in one hand, pinning them above her head as I release her throat. When my mouth claims hers, her gasp carries that damning sweetness—that taste that marks her as so much more than human.

I tease her with light brushes of my lips, withdrawing each time she strains toward me. Her whimper of frustration makes me smile against her mouth. When I nip her bottom lip in punishment, she moans, and something inside me snaps.

I plunge my tongue into her mouth, claiming, possessing, devouring.

Tonight I will have her writhing beneath me, whimpering and moaning, breathless, and oh-so-sweet against my mouth—hot, wet, slick as she begs for my touch, crying out my name as I mark her as mine.

Mine. The word continues to pound through me with each beat of my heart. No one else can ever have her.

No one else can ever touch her.

And for a moment, that possessive certainty wars with the knowledge of what I must eventually do to her. The conflict threatens to tear me apart—this need to possess her battling my need to sacrifice her.

But tonight, in this moment, with her body soft against mine, I can’t bring myself to care about tomorrow’s consequences.

CHAPTER 24

LARA

Icame upstairs to find Ivrael, to make sure he was okay, to make sure he wasn’t upset after what he’d done to the baron. I should have known Ivrael wouldn’t be bothered by taking off a man’s finger—should have known better if only because I’d watched the whole thing from behind the door between the kitchen and Adefina’s chamber.

Svalkat never had a chance against the duke.

And neither do I.

My heart pounds against my chest, but I’m not fighting him anymore. I should be—every rational thought screams at me to push him away. Instead, I arch closer as Ivrael presses me against the wall, his body hard against mine as he whispers my name.

“Ivrael,” I breathe out, hating how needy I sound but unable to stop myself. His masculine scent—that intoxicating mix of winter frost and spiced vanilla—floods my senses until I can barely think, only aware of how unbelievably male he is, how his body feels against mine.

My hands clutch at his shoulders, torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer.

“I have tried so hard not to do this,” he murmurs against my neck, his voice rough with restraint. “Tried so hard to stick to the plan.” His lips trail fire across my skin, heat burning a path back toward my mouth, and I shudder. God, I should stop this. I know better. But when his mouth hovers over mine, that blend of scorching heat and bitter cold radiating from him, my resistance crumbles.

I moan, my body betraying me completely as I stare into his eyes. The raw need I see there steals my breath—and my sanity. My fingers curl into his hair of their own accord, dragging his mouth to mine. I kiss him frantically, desperately, as if I can somehow satisfy this maddening craving for him if I just get closer, taste more of him.

“Every moment of every day since that first morning in the Trasqo Market.” His breath flutters against my skin, as hot—and as cold—as his mouth, and I no longer even know what he’s talking about.

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