Page 28 of The Alien's Vicious Starflash Manor

A horrific thought occurs to me: is it possible her power has evaporated entirely?

No—that’s not possible.

If she manifested the power once, then she carries the bloodright to the magic. Nothing can change that.

I will count on her sister’s presence to bring it out of her again.

Flying in the air beside me, Lara sits half-asleep atop her crystalline horse, her hand wrapped around the leather rein I conjured for her to hold onto. She’s wrapped the tattered, makeshift cloak Adefina stitched together for her out of two older cloaks around Izzy.

In turn, Izzy has pulled it forward to cover as much of the two of them as it can. The green undercloak shows through holes in the outer red woolen one, and the younger Evans sister is sleeping, as far as I can tell.

Part of me wants to wrap Lara in the black cloak I wear tossed over my own shoulders. Even though she fares better here than a full-blood human would, she’s often chilled.

I could do without the cloak. Despite my occasional need for warmth, the cold does not affect me. I am the Duke of Starfrost, and nothing within my own domain can harm me. But that’s not the real reason I could give her my cloak and yet I do not.

I did allow Lara to wrap herself in my cloak after the night I bought her from Roland. She used it all the way back to Starfrost Manor. And when I retrieved it from her, the cloak still held her body heat and her alluring scent. The heat dissipated quickly. But her scent…that remained for much longer than I’d anticipated.

My control grows weaker every day. I cannot risk immersing myself in her scent.

Not even if I want to.

The hooves of our ice-horse constructs slice through the frigid air, leaving trails of diamante dust in their wake. Each beat sends shivers through the magical matrix I’ve woven to create them—another reminder of how much weaker even my considerable powers have grown.

Khrint’s sharp intake of breath draws my attention to the landscape. My valet sits rigidly atop his mount, his white-blond hair whipping in the wind as he stares downward.

“My lord,” he says, his voice tight with concern. The formal address doesn’t mask the tremor underneath. “The cardena vines—they’re flowering early this cycle. And those purple blooms among them...”

He trails off, clearly disturbed by the sight of warm-weather plants infiltrating our frozen domain. The cardena should be dormant, their silver-white stems coiled beneath the ice until the proper season. Instead, their leaves push through the frost, and delicate purple star-flowers—shadowblooms that have no business growing in Starfrost—twine through their branches.

“Yes.” I keep my voice level, though anger burns in my chest at this latest evidence of our world’s decline. “The barrier between the cold lands and the warm continues to weaken.”

The Icecaix and Starcaix realms are intertwining. I had noticed on the way out to the starport, but apparently Khrint was still too traumatized by the fire to pay attention.

Now I scan the terrain below, noting more signs I’ve been trying to ignore. Patches of dark soil show through what should be unbroken ice. Warm mist rises in thin tendrils where it should freeze instantly. Even the air feels wrong—still cold enough to bite but lacking the sharp, pristine quality that marks proper Icecaix territory.

Khrint’s usual stoic demeanor cracks further. His fingers tighten on his reins until the leather creaks. “If this corruption spreads much further?—”

“The damage can be corrected, can’t it?” Tenyt interrupts. My young guard’s voice carries an edge of fear that makes him sound more like the servant boy he is than the trained warrior he’s becoming. His ice-horse shifts beneath him, responding to my anxiety.

Or perhaps my control is slipping.

I consider my response carefully, aware of Lara’s eyes slowly opening as she yawns, her attention shifting to our conversation, even as her sister continues sleeping.

She blinks, and I see the moment she realizes what we’re discussing.

She tries to hide it, but I catch the slight turn of Lara’s head, the way her spine straightens. Now, the barest whispering sound of her movement draws my attention instantly.

“The planet can be saved,” I say finally, choosing each word with precision, knowing that Lara is actively listening now. My own knowledge presses against me, reminding me of exactly what that salvation will cost. “If we act quickly enough. The solution lies in…ancient magics.”

The words taste like ashes in my mouth.Ancient magics—a pleasant euphemism for blood sacrifice and death.

But I can’t speak that truth, not with Lara’s now-suspicious gaze burning holes in my side. Not when I’m still trying to convince myself that her death is a price I’m willing to pay.

The copper-gold curls whipping around her face catch the starlight, making her look more like the royal she truly is than the servant she believes herself to be.

She’s fully awake now. Wind-chapped color stains Lara’s freckled cheeks, and I force my fingers to remain still on my reins rather than reach over to brush back those wayward strands of hair.

“And how exactly are my sister and I supposed to help with that?”

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