Page 51 of The Alien's Vicious Starflash Manor

The same royal blood runs in her veins. The same potential that makes both sisters so necessary to my plans.

That makes Lara so tempting.

Is it possible this is somehow connected to her powers?

I catch Lara’s gaze. The worry in her eyes makes something twist in my chest. The tiny winged raya flits from Lara’s shoulder over to Izzy and buzzes around her.

“Lucilline.” My voice cracks through the air. The young maid appears almost instantly, hands already wringing together. “Lady Izzy requires attention.”

“Of course, Your Lordship.” She hovers near Izzy’s chair, uncertain. “Should I fetch a healer?”

“No.” The word emerges sharper than intended.

No one else can examine Izzy—I can’t risk anyone discovering what she truly is. What they both are. “Herbal tea and a cool compress should suffice.”

Lara’s lips press together. She clearly wants to argue. The ribbons at her wrists pulse with her barely contained emotion, and frost patterns spread across my wine glass in response.

Izzy’s discomfort grows more obvious as the seconds pass. She lists slightly in her chair, eyes squinting against the glow of the Caixlights floating overhead.

“Perhaps you should lie down,” I suggest, studying her reaction carefully.

Is this truly just a headache? Or something more?

The timing is suspicious—we need both sisters’ powers awakened before the summit.

“I’m fine,” Izzy insists, but her complexion has taken on a greenish tinge that makes her look distinctly unwell.

Lara half-rises from her chair. “I’ll help you back to our rooms.”

“No.” Again, my voice echoes with sharp authority.

Defiance flashes in Lara’s eyes, hot enough to make the air between us shimmer. The raya, glancing back and forth between us, lands on her shoulder and whispers in her ear.

We can’t waste this evening—we don’t have enough time to waste any of it. “Lucilline will see to your sister. You have other obligations.”

“My sister needs me.”

“Your sister needs rest.” Frost coats my tone. “And you need to learn to dance.”

Izzy waves off her sister’s concern with obvious effort. “I just need to sleep it off.”

Lucilline steps forward. “I’ll take good care of her, miss. Promise.”

“You’ll come get me if she gets worse?”

At Lara’s question, the maid nods emphatically. “I will. I swear.”

The raya buzzes up from her shoulder again and squeaks something to Lara in her tiny voice.

“Can Kila go with her?” Lara asks. I’m about to decline the request automatically, when her voice softens. “Please?”

I find myself unable to resist the request, and I watch as they leave—the raya perched on Lucilline’s shoulder, Izzy leaning heavily on the maid’s arm, her steps uncertain.

Part of me wonders if I should send for a healer anyway. If something goes wrong with either sister before the ritual...

I turn back to find Lara watching me, suspicion clear in her gaze. The ribbons around her wrists catch the light, reminding us both of her bonds. Of her purpose here.

Of my control over her.

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