Page 109 of The Alien's Vicious Starflash Manor

Run.

I bolt for the maze entrance, my shoes slipping on the icy ground. Behind me, someone shouts, and I hear the crunch of boots pursuing.

The maze looms before me. I don’t slow down, just plunge into it, hit the first turn, then the next, letting my feet carry me deeper into the labyrinth.

I follow my instincts, trying to keep track of the directions I go.

Left, left, left again. Then right. The walls blur past as I run, my heart threatening to burst from my chest. I can’t hear pursuit anymore, but that means nothing. These hunters have tracked us across worlds—they won’t be stopped by a simple ice maze.

I take another turn and skid to a halt.

Dead end.

No. No no no.

I spin around, ready to retrace my steps, but freeze at the sound of voices. They echo oddly off the ice walls, impossible to tell which direction they’re coming from.

“...somewhere in here...”

“...blood calls to blood...”

“...can’t hide forever...”

The whispered words drift to me in fragments. My skin crawls at the sound.

I press myself into an alcove, trying to make myself as small as possible. The ice is so cold it burns against my back, but I don’t dare move.

The voices continue their taunting whispers, growing neither louder nor softer, as if they’re everywhere and nowhere at once.

Like the wolves in the forest. Like the darkness that I shattered.

But this time, I don’t think screaming will save me. It might just tell them exactly where to find me.

The only thing to do is lead them on a chase through the maze.

My feet slip on the icy ground as I push away from the wall, abandoning my hiding place. Now the voices do grow louder, then softer—but it’s still impossible to tell if I’m moving toward or away from the hunters.

Backtrack to the last turn. Left turn. Right turn. Another right.

My breath burns in my lungs, clouds of vapor trailing behind me like breadcrumbs in the frigid air. Will they be able to track that? Track me by the heat of my body against the ice, by the fog of my breath, by whatever magic lets them sense royal blood?

A whisper slides past my ear: “We can smell your fear...”

I bite back a scream and run faster, my shoes slipping on the glassy floor. The silk of my court dress tangles around my legs with every step. Stupid, impractical clothing.

A year of wearing my own clothes, and now when I need to run, I’m wrapped in layers of delicate fabric that could get me killed.

Another turning brings me to a familiar spot—the same one where we fought the ice monster? No. Different patterns in the walls.

“Your blood sings to us...”

The voice comes from the passage to my left. I dart right, then immediately left again, trying to be unpredictable. My legs burn with effort, unused to running in these heeled dancing slippers. But I can’t slow down. Can’t let them catch me.

Can’t let them find Izzy.

The thought of my sister sends fresh energy surging through my limbs. I push harder, faster, ignoring the stitch developing in my side. The maze walls blur past, endless corridors of ice stretching in every direction.

Something moves in my peripheral vision—a shadow, darker than the rest. I change direction without thinking, skidding around a corner so fast my shoulder slams into the wall. Pain explodes through my arm, but I keep running.

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