Page 10 of The Alien's Cruel Starfrost Domain

“When is your birthday, child?” the toad-man asked as if I hadn’t just attempted to escape.

I locked my jaw against answering, but my mouth moved, and I had no way to stop myself from speaking.

“Next week,” I said.

“How old will you be?” This time, the question came from the beautiful duke. My gaze flickered toward him, andin the depths of his eyes, I saw a reflection of the same kind of avarice in Roland’s expression.

“Eighteen,” I said, despite my attempts to remain silent.

The duke shot a look at Roland. “Eighteen is the age of majority on your world, no?”

Confusion creased Roland’s brow, but he nodded. “That’s when she’ll be a legal adult, yeah. It’s when I stop getting the checks for her.”

Nausea roiled up into my throat. It was one thing to suspect Roland hated me, only kept me around for the checks. It was something else entirely to know it for sure.

Ivrael’s cosplay clothing came complete with a leather drawstring bag. He lifted the purse and hefted it in his hands three times.

I don’t know why I counted how many times he made the contents jingle, but I did. I knew it was significant somehow.

The Caix are big on numbers, as it turns out. Threes have power. So do sevens.

“I will take her now,” the duke said, his words more a command than an offer. After he had Roland’s attention, the duke handed the purse to my stepfather, who opened it, his beefy fingers fumbling among the coins before he finally poured them out onto the table.

Ivrael watched him, staring down the length of his aristocratic nose as if Roland were too crass for words.

“She’s all yours,” Roland said, not even looking at me, too busy drinking in the sight of the silver and gold piled on the table. Then he swallowed hard and added, “But about her sister...”

Ivrael went perfectly still. Even the air around him seemed to freeze. “Yes?”

“Thing is, I’ve been thinking.” Roland scratched the back of his neck, his greed warring with something that looked almost like fear. “Maybe I’ll just keep the younger one.”

This time when I froze, no one but me caused it.

No. This man couldn’t have Izzy. No one could ever have Izzy.

“The agreement was for both sisters,” Ivrael said, his voice carrying a sharp, winter-cold edge. “At the appointed times.”

Roland’s face reddened. “Yeah, well, agreements can change. Factis, I’m starting to think maybe I shouldn’t sell either of ’em.” He moved as if to sweep the coins off the table and back into the leather pouch. “Police might come sniffing around, asking questions?—”

The temperature plummeted. Frost crackled across the vendor’s table, creeping toward Roland’s hands.

My stepfather jerked back, eyes widening.

“The agreement,” Ivrael said softly, dangerously, “was for both sisters. The elder now, the younger just as she reaches eighteen. Their ages are... crucial to my purposes.”

Roland licked his lips nervously. “Listen, Your Lordship, or whatever you are. I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but?—”

“This is no game.” Ivrael’s eyes flashed with silver and gold sparks. “You will bring the younger sister to me on the eve of her eighteenth birthday. No sooner. No later.”

The frost spread further, climbing up Roland’s sleeve. He tried to brush it off, but it only thickened. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “What are you?”

“Someone you do not want to disappoint.” Ivrael’s voice had gone quiet again, almost gentle. “Someone who can find you anywhere you try to hide.”

Roland’s teeth began to chatter. “F-fine. Both girls. But it’ll cost you double for all this... trouble.”

“Agreed.” Ivrael waved his hand and the frost receded. He produced another purse, identical to the first. “Half now, half when you deliver the sister. At the proper time.”

My stepfather snatched the second purse, his hands shaking. As he stuffed both purses into his jacket, I caught him muttering under his breath: “Eighteen. Has to be eighteen. What kind of bastard...” But he didn’t argue further.

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