Page 30 of The Alien's Vicious Starflash Manor

Even half-frozen and exhausted, she burns with an inner fire that makes my careful control waver.

Ahead, Starfrost Manor rises like a frozen dream, its white walls gleaming in the moonlight. I've always taken pride in my domain, in the power and beauty it represents. Now I see it through Lara's eyes—a prison disguised as a palace.

She thinks she hates it here. Thinks she hates me.

Maybe she does.

If so, she's right to do so.

I watch her tug her sister closer as we approach the manor, her protective instincts obvious in every line of her body. If she knew what I had planned, she would try to kill me where I stand.

Part of me almost wishes she would succeed.

But I've seen the future that awaits if I fail. I've watched our magic weaken year by year.

I’ve studied every inch of the problem, tested every theory, explored every alternative. But the truth remains unchanged: Lara’s death—and her sister’s—are essential components of the only solution I’ve found to save our dying world.

I've run the calculations countless times, searched for any alternative that wouldn't require their deaths.

There is none.

And so I must become the monster she already believes me to be. Must ignore the way my heart races when she's near, the way her presence makes my magic sing in my veins. Must forget how she felt in my arms that night in the gallery, warm and alive and more real than anything in my frozen world.

The knowledge sits hard in my chest, colder than any magic I command.

The ice horses sense my darkening mood, their steps growing more rigid, mechanical. I force my thoughts back to the present, to maintaining the constructs that carry us.

To the role I must play.

Starfrost Manor's courtyard opens before us. Fresh snow blankets everything, untouched and perfect. Like a clean slate, waiting for whatever bloody story we're about to write upon it.

Lara sits straighter in her saddle as we approach, and even exhausted, even afraid, she carries herself like the queen she could have been in another life. Another sign I must ignore, another reminder of everything I'm about to destroy.

The knowledge of what I must do sits in my chest like a shard of ice, colder than any magic I command. But I am the Duke of Starfrost, and I will do whatever necessary to save my world.

Even if it means sacrificing the only warmth I've ever known.

I guide us down to land in the Starfrost Manor courtyard. Our mounts’ hooves touch the frozen ground with barely a sound, the magical constructs moving with the dexterity that marks my better creations.

“Dismount,” I order, then soften my tone at Lara’s flash of rebellion. “Please.”

She slides from her mount with surprising agility, given our long ride. When she stumbles slightly on the landing, I reach out instinctively to steady her. The brief contact sends a jolt through my carefully maintained control—her skin burns like fire against me.

“I’m fine,” she snaps, pulling away as if my touch burns her as well. Perhaps it does.

She turns and helps her sister, still groggy, off the back of the frozen steed.

I dismiss the constructs with a wave of my hand, and the ice horses dissolve into swirling snow that dissipates on the wind. The speed with which they dissolve serves as yet another reminder of why my plan—terrible as it is—must succeed.

Before I lead the sisters into the manor, I take a moment to study the scorched remains of Starfrost Manor's western wing, where the firelord's attack left its deepest scars.

The wing's distinctive, blue-trimmed windows—those that survived—have been boarded over to protect the interior from the frequent snow.

Even in the moonlight, I can tell the once-pristine white walls are still blackened in places, though the workers have begun scraping away the soot. Scaffolding climbs the exterior likeskeletal fingers, and new marble blocks gleam incongruously among the smoke-stained stone.

The ballroom's destruction pains me—not for the loss of the room itself, but for what it represents. The rotating star ceiling, once the pride of Starfrost Manor, now lies in ruins, its delicate magical mechanisms destroyed.

The veranda where countless nobles once gathered to escape the heat of dancing now stands empty, its elegant columns scarred and crumbling.

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