Page 111 of The Alien's Vicious Starflash Manor

But my feet are already moving, taking the front stairs two at a time, frost trailing in my wake. By the time I reach the bottom and move to the servants’ stairs, the door outside is swinging shut.

Through the windows, I catch another glimpse of her—running now, her hair a banner of fire against the snow. Not the careful, measured pace of someone sneaking away, but the desperate flight of prey from predator.

Something is wrong.

The realization is accompanied by a wave of foreign emotion—fear—flooding through me with such intensity it nearly brings me to my knees.

Not my own, I realize, but Lara’s,

I burst through the doors into the biting cold, my breath crystallizing in the air as I make my way out to maze.

All the way there, I feel her terror coursing through my veins as if it were my own.

When did this connection form? How deep does it go?

The maze looms before me and I slip inside. Lara disappears around a corner, and I follow, drawn by the pull of her terror like a compass needle seeking north.

The maze has changed since Syella built it—the walls higher now, more treacherous. Ice formations sprout like deadly flowers, their edges sharp enough to draw blood.

Was it like this when Lara entered moments ago? Or is this my own magic responding to my agitation, reshaping the ice to match my turmoil?

Another wave of Lara’s fear crashes over me, and frost explodes across the ground in jagged patterns.

I round another corner, tracking her by the echo of her footsteps and the phantom sensation of her heart racing in my chest. The temperature drops further as my magic leaks out unchecked, responding to my growing desperation. What is she running from?

Who dares threaten what’s mine?

The thought brings me up short. When did I start thinking of her as mine to protect rather than mine to destroy?

You know exactly when, a voice that sounds suspiciously like Cyan whispers in my mind.The moment she yielded to you. The moment you let yourself care.

I curse under my icy breath.

This was never part of the plan. I was supposed to remain distant, detached. I wasn’t supposed to feel the phantom warmth of her skin against mine, wasn’t supposed to crave her fire like a moth drawn to flame.

Wasn’t supposed to want to burn my whole world down to keep her safe.

Another turn brings me to a dead end, but I can feel her nearby—her fear a living thing pulsing through our connection. The wall before me is seamless, perfect ice, but I know with bone-deep certainty that she’s on the other side.

My powers surge, responding to my need to reach her. Ice groans and shifts, creating an archway where moments ago there was only a solid wall. I step through to find myself in one of the maze’s deadly puzzle chambers, where the floor itself is a trap waiting to be sprung.

Lara stands at the center, her chest heaving as she searches frantically for an exit. She spins at my approach, and the terror in her eyes cuts deeper than any blade.

I want to go to her, to wrap her in my arms and shield her from whatever horror pursues her.

The urge is foreign, unsettling. I am the Duke of Starfrost. I do not protect. I do not nurture. I take what I need and discard what I don’t, as cold and implacable as the ice in my veins.

But watching her tremble, feeling her fear echo through me, all I want is to keep her safe. To destroy whatever threatens her. To forget my duty to my world and choose her instead.

The realization settles like poison iron in my chest—I cannot protect her. Not truly. Not when I am the greatest threat to her survival.

My stomach lurches, bile rising in my throat. The temperature plummets as my control fractures further. Ice spreads across the walls in corrupted patterns, broken fractals as beautiful and terrible as my own twisted heart.

“Lara.” Her name falls from my lips like a prayer, like a curse. She takes a step back, and the movement sends fresh pain lancing through my chest.

I have spent centuries crafting the perfect mask of aristocratic ice, but it shatters now. Because I cannot be what she needs. Cannot protect her from the fate I’ve written for her in blood and sacrifice.

Cannot save her without damning my entire world.

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