Page 15 of The Alien's Vicious Starflash Manor

I slam my hand against the controls, ice exploding outward. “Launch. Sequence. Now.”

The sooner we break atmosphere, the sooner I can escape these close quarters, escape the maddening awareness of Lara’s every breath and movement.

If only I could trust myself to maintain control that long.

I rub my hands across my eyes and remind myself we’re not alone in the gallery now—not even close to it. We’re on my bridge, surrounded by knowing looks and barely concealed smirks. Izzy’s sharp gaze misses nothing, and my servants’ poorly concealed amusement already threatens what remains of my control.

Lara makes a small sound that might be suppressed laughter, and the bonds between us vibrate with an emotion I refuse to name. My cock throbs painfully against my breeches as I force myself to focus on the pre-flight checklist instead of all the ways I want to wipe that amusement from her face and replace it.

With her screaming my name.

“All launch checks complete,” Cyan says, and for a moment, I think she’s given up teasing me. But then she adds, “I was wondering if perhaps some cold water might help with your... discomfort?”

Tenyt coughs suddenly, and I don’t need to look to know he and Khrint are exchanging more meaningful glances. The urge to freeze them all solid grows stronger with each passing moment.

Fuck. This is going to be the longest flight of my life.

Goddess help me survive it with my sanity—and my dignity—intact.

Cyan’s systems pulse. Here, surrounded by technology that would horrify my court, I feel the divide in my blood more keenly than ever—part Icecaix nobleman, part space captain.

And with Lara so nearby, my craving for her overrides both of those elements of myself.

Already I can feel my magic weakening as the ship’s systems come fully online. It’s a familiar ache, this battle between the two halves of my nature—but it’s worse this time than it’s ever been before.

A wave of dizziness passes over me, and I grasp the back of the captain’s chair to steady myself. When the moment passes, I find Lara watching me carefully. Izzy, on the other hand, is staring at my servants, both of whom also reached for support when the engines spun up.

“The Icecaix aren’t supposed to use technology,” Lara explains to her sister. “It weakens their magic.”

She’s not wrong. Every moment aboard this ship dims my connection to the ice magic that is my birthright.

But Lara doesn’t understand that this perpetual balance between technology and tradition is exactly why I need the sisters. How their sacrifice will bridge these two worlds that tear me apart, allowing Caix magic and technology to coexist at last.

To be fair, I don’t fully understand it, either. But I can feel the truth of it, the reality that their blood will power the shift on my planet.

First, though, we need to get back to Trasq.

And the sooner I can get the Evans sisters into cryosleep, the better. The younger one’s presence sets my nerves on edge in ways I didn’t expect. She sees too much, and I’m afraid my attempts to maintain control over my desire for Lara don’t fool Izzy.

I worry Izzy will figure out what I truly need from her and Lara—and that’s the last thing I can afford for either Evans sister to know.

Behind me, Izzy spins in a slow circle, taking in every detail of the ship. Unlike her sister, whose fire burns hot enough to melt glaciers, Izzy’s energy is contained, analytical.

“You can’t just take off with us,” she finally says, though her voice wavers a bit as she watches the digital readouts spring to life around us. “Someone will notice we’re missing.”

If only she knew how carefully I’ve orchestrated everything, ensuring their disappearance will raise no alarms in their world.

How much their own stepfather helped me.

But thinking about Izzy finally helps cool the effects of binding Lara to me. I’m not calm—I know it would take only the barest brush of Lara’s magical ribbons against my senses for my desire for her to rage out of control again. But at least I am no longer a mere instant away from shoving her to the deck and ravishing her right now, spectators be damned.

When I don’t reply, Izzy moves toward the airlock, her fingers trailing along the metal walls. “Where exactly are you taking us?”

“That hatch won’t open for you,” Cyan announces cheerfully. “Ship’s on lockdown. Only the captain can authorize exit procedures.”

Izzy whirls to face me, her expression hardening into something closer to her sister’s early defiant anger. “You can’t kidnap us.”

“It’s not kidnapping. I bought you.”

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