Page 130 of The Alien's Vicious Starflash Manor

Lord Vazor’s massive form seems to grow even larger as rage ripples through his golden scales. “Jonyk invited twelve firelord families to celebrate the spring equinox. A gesture of peace, he claimed. The adults were separated from their children for a ‘special performance.’” His voice drops to a growl that makes the windows rattle. “The performance was dying for the prince.”

Rhaela’s hands clench into fists. “Our cousin Mira was only seven. She loved to dance, to make her scales catch the light...” She breaks off, turning away. Izzy reaches for her hand, and the fierce warrior princess allows the contact.

“The prince had them brought to the throne room one by one,” Harai continues, her usual gentle demeanor hardening to steel. “He wanted to see if firelord children could survive being frozen. Could maintain their inner flame against his ice.”

“None of them could,” Vazor says flatly. “Twenty-three children. The youngest was four.”

The temperature in the room plummets as Ivrael speaks. “I learned of it too late. The spy I hanged—he was the one who locked the children in. Kept their parents from reaching them.” Frost spreads from his feet in jagged patterns. “He laughed when he told me how they screamed.”

I feel sick. Kila’s tiny form trembles against my neck as she whispers, “The Starcaix lands wept that day.”

“After that,” Vazor rumbles, “there could be no true peace. Not while Jonyk lives. The best we can get is not actively hunting each other.”

Izzy’s face has gone pale, her hand still clasped in Rhaela’s. “How could anyone do that to children?”

“Because he enjoys it,” Uanna says. “He calls it ‘testing the limits of magic.’ But really, he simply likes to cause pain.”

The silence that follows feels heavy enough to crush us all.

Dropping Rhaela’s hand, Izzy stands and begins pacing, and Ivrael’s expression is almost sympathetic.

The ice-cold duke who can’t bear to see the children of his monarch’s enemy die.

No wonder I could never bring myself to kill him.

Finally I speak, my voice cutting through the heavy silence that follows the firelords’ dark tale. “It’s just a couple drops of blood, right?”

The duke turns his gaze toward me—and for a moment, I could swear he’s confused by my question.

“Oh. Yes,” he eventually says. “Just a few drops.”

It’s almost like there’s a pattern here I can’t see, some storybook rule about the prince needing both a princess and a dragon.

No. That can’t be right.

I’m missing something important.

Probably starting with the fact that I’m not a princess. And Ivrael is sure as fuck not the prince of the story.

He’s the dragon.

“What happens after you have the blood?” Izzy asks.

Uanna leans forward in her chair, her pale eyes sharp with interest, and Lord Vazor’s golden scales ripple as he exchanges a loaded glance with his daughters.

“Have a seat, and I’ll tell you.” Ivrael gestures toward the cushion next to me. Huffing out an irritated breath, Izzy drops down onto it, though I notice she positions herself closer to where Rhaela stands rigidly at attention.

Kila lifts off from my shoulder and buzzes anxiously around my head for a few moments before settling back down on my other shoulder. Her tiny wings flutter against my neck as she whispers, “Ireallydon’t trust any of this.”

“Fine. I’m sitting.” Izzy’s entire body seems coiled in on itself. “Tell us precisely what you need from us, what it will entail, and how it will benefit us. In detail, please.”

The temperature drops as Ivrael gathers his thoughts. “Before the closing ball the final night of the peace summit, I will take just a few drops of blood from you and your sister—by pricking your fingers,” he adds quickly as Izzy opens her mouth to interject.

“Okay,” she says, glancing at Harai, who gives an almost imperceptible nod. “That doesn’t sound too bad yet. Keep going.”

I lean forward, hyperaware of how Uanna watches us like a predator sizing up prey. As nervous as it makes me for Izzy to start interrogating Ivrael, I want to know the details too.

“I will also gather blood from two firelords,” Ivrael continues. Lord Vazor inclines his head in silent confirmation.

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