Page 125 of The Alien's Vicious Starflash Manor

The word emerges more plea than command, and her eyes widen at my tone—but she doesn’t try to pull away again.

“An ice dragon,” she says instead, shaking her head slowly. “I didn’t think that was possible.”

“It’s not. Or at least, it never has been before.” I steady myself against one of the maze walls, ice crackling beneath my palm where my control slips. My other hand still circles her wrist, and I can feel her pulse racing beneath my fingers. “No one’s ever seen an ice form of a firelord shift.”

“But how—” She breaks off, glancing at my naked form before her, then quickly averting her eyes. A blush stains her cheeks, and something hot and hungry stirs in my core at the sight.

“How did it happen?” she finally manages.

I study her face in the crystalline reflections that surround us, seeing her reaction multiplied infinitely. The maze shows me every angle of her expression—the curiosity, the wariness, the unwilling fascination. My grip on her wrist tightens fractionally as another tremor runs through me.

“My father—” My voice catches, and I have to swallow hard before continuing. “My father wasn’t just Starcaix. He was part firelord as well.”

“But you’re Icecaix,” she says, shaking her head in confusion. “Your ice magic?—”

“Comes from my mother’s bloodline, yes.” The words taste bitter on my tongue. “I’m a mongrel by any pure-blood’s standards. Starcaix, firelord, and Icecaix all mixed together in ways that shouldn’t be possible.”

“Is that why you—” She gestures vaguely with her free hand, encompassing my state of undress, the lingering effects of the shift. “Why it happened now?”

“The double full moons are approaching. They affect all Caix magic, but mixed blood like mine...” I trail off as another shudder wracks my frame. “Let’s just say it’s particularly susceptible to their influence.”

I laugh again, though there’s no humor in it.

Her fingers flex beneath my grip, and I realize I’m still holding her wrist. I should let go. I know I should. But the warmth of her skin against mine feels like the only thing holding me to this form, to this moment.

“The moons affect your magic that much?” Lara asks, her free hand reaching toward me before dropping back to her side in an aborted gesture of comfort.

“They affect all Caix magic. But mixed blood responds... differently. More intensely.” I close my eyes briefly against a wave of dizziness. “Especially blood that was never meant to mix.”

I fight to remain steady as another aftershock of the transformation ripples through me.

“That’s why you spend so much time at the pole,” she says slowly. “Why you have a spaceship when most other Caix shun technology. The distance from the center of Trasq’s magic helps control it, doesn’t it?”

The insight startles a laugh from me, though it ends in a grimace as my newly reformed muscles spasm.

“Clever girl.” My thumb traces absent patterns against her pulse point. “Yes. The weaker magical field at the poles makes it easier to maintain control. The technology helps too, though I can’t explain exactly how.”

“And the fire in your blood?” Her voice drops to barely a whisper. “Is that why you keep fires burning in your chambers when other Icecaix hate them?”

My lips curve in a bitter smile. “Among other reasons. I’m an abomination by any pure-blood’s standards—Starcaix, firelord, and Icecaix all in one.”

“You’re not an abomination,” she says fiercely, and the sudden heat in her voice makes my breath catch.

She twists her wrist in my grip, not trying to pull away but repositioning until her fingers can wrap around my forearm. “You’re proof that all these divisions between races are artificial. Meaningless.”

A harsh laugh escapes me. “Tell that to the Ice Court. To generations of carefully maintained bloodlines and political alliances.”

Another tremor runs through me, and frost spreads from my feet in delicate fractals, and my voice drops. “To my own body, which feels like it’s being torn apart by warring magics.”

“You’re not an abomination,” she repeats, her voice almost angry now. “You’re exactly what this world needs—proof that these boundaries can be crossed.”

Something warm, something dangerous, unfurls in my chest at her words. I force it down, focusing instead on what I’ve observed. “You’ve changed too. I saw you tap into your Icecaix heritage earlier. The way you controlled the ice—that’s not something a human could do.”

Her chin lifts in that defiant tilt of hers. “Maybe I’m just naturally talented.”

“And modest too.” The words emerge softer than intended. “But it’s more than that. I believe you’re beginning to access your Starcaix abilities as well.”

“What makes you think that?”

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