Page 110 of The Alien's Vicious Starflash Manor

I hit a circular chamber with an arrangement of archways leading out—then another. How many of these chambers are there? Or have I turned around?

The ice is everywhere now, closing in. The walls seem to pulse with an inner light, creating weird shadows that dance and twist. Or are those real shadows moving behind me?

I take another turning at random, then another. My breath comes in harsh gasps that tear at my throat. The cold air burns my lungs with every inhale.

The maze shifts around me—or maybe that’s just my vision blurring. Everything looks the same. Endless ice. Endless corridors. Endless choices, each one potentially leading to capture. To death.

To whatever fate these hunters have planned for girls with royal blood.

Another whisper, this one almost close enough to feel against my skin: “The king’s blood flows in your veins...”

I stumble, my ankle turning in the ridiculous court shoes. My hand shoots out to catch myself against the wall. The ice burns against my palm, so cold it feels like fire.

Keep moving. Have to keep moving.

But which way? Every path looks identical.

A shadow definitely moves behind me now. I run blindly, no longer trying to track my path or maintain any sense of direction. Just running, running, running...

The voices are all around me now, a chorus of harsh whispers that make my skin crawl:

“Blood calls to blood...”

“The throne demands sacrifice...”

“Your power belongs to us...”

And I don’t even know if the voices are real, or if they’re like the ones in the darkness earlier, just taking my own fears and reflecting them back at me.

My legs shake with exhaustion. I can’t keep this pace much longer. Can’t keep running forever.

Ice shatters somewhere behind me—they’re breaking through walls, trying to catch up.

I run faster.

Left turn. Right turn. Another left.

The walls blur past, and I’m so focused on what’s behind me that I don’t see what’s ahead until it’s too late.

I slam into a hard body, and hands come out to grab my shoulders.

With a scream, I try to wrench away.

But then I hear Ivrael say, “What is it?”

Finally looking up, I realize he’s the one holding me—and with a grateful sob, I collapse against his muscular chest.

CHAPTER 29

IVRAEL

As I step out of my study, movement catches my eye—a flash of copper-gold hair disappearing down the servants’ staircase.

Lara, slipping away like a ghost in the shadows.

My fingers tighten on the railing of the main staircase as I debate following her. She’s been different since our encounter in the gallery, alternating between fierce defiance and something softer that makes my chest ache.

I shouldn’t care where she goes.

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