Page 72 of The Alien's Vicious Starflash Manor

Never again.

The words taste like lies even as I think them, but I force myself to straighten, to lift my chin.

I am not his toy, his possession, his... anything.

No matter what my treacherous body wants.

The ribbons pulse again, as if laughing at my thoughts, and I clench my fists until my nails bite into my palms. This time, the pain helps me remember who—what—he really is.

My captor. My enemy. The man who holds my life, my sister’s life, in his hands.

Not my lover. Never that.

Even if part of me wishes...

I shake my head sharply, banishing that thought before it can fully form. I won’t give him the satisfaction of breaking me like this. Won’t let him see how much it hurt when he sent me away.

Won’t let myself want him to call me back.

But as I push away from the window on unsteady legs, I know I’m lying to myself. Because the worst part isn’t that I…served…him on my knees.

The worst part is that I want to do it again.

As I near the end of one corridor, I peek around the corner. The hallway appears empty, but sometimes sound carries strangely through Starfrost Manor’s corridors. I’ve learned that the hard way over the past year.

I gather the silk of my ruined dress closer, painfully aware of how obvious it will be to anyone who sees me exactly what I’ve been doing.

It’s not just the ripped dress. My hair has completely escaped its careful styling, falling in wild tangles around my face. Fuck. I need to get back to our rooms and change without Izzy realizing it.

Izzy, who’s in the suite recovering from a headache, dammit.

The sound of footsteps sends me ducking into an alcove, pressing myself into the shadows as a servant passes. My heart pounds so loudly I’m certain they must hear it, but they continue on without pausing.

Once their steps fade, I ease back into the hallway. I hurry toward my suite, pausing at each intersection to check for witnesses.

I’m almost there when I hear voices approaching and my stomach drops. But then I recognize Lucilline’s lilting tone and nearly sag with relief. She’s walking down the hallway with one of Madame Evangeny’s minions.

Just past the alcove where I’m hiding, they split up, and I send up a silent, grateful prayer of thanks to any gods that might be listening. Then I wait until the assistant she’s chatting with turns the corner.

“Lucilline!” I hiss, waving to catch her attention.

She turns, eyes widening as she takes in my disheveled state. Her gaze sweeps over me from head to toe, and I feel my cheeks flame. But there’s no judgment in her expression, only understanding and perhaps a hint of sympathy.

“Oh miss,” she says softly. “Let me help you.”

I nod gratefully. “I need... I can’t let Izzy see me like this.”

“Of course not.” She glances around. “Come with me.”

She leads me to an empty guest room and slips inside to check that it’s truly vacant before ushering me in. “Wait here. I’ll fetch your things from your suite.”

While she’s gone, I pace the room, trying not to look at my reflection in the ornate mirror on the wall. The ribbons at my wrists remind me of how Ivrael used them to control me. How I let him.

How I wanted him to.

Never again. Perhaps if I say it often enough, it will become true.

I won’t give in to him again, won’t let myself forget what he truly is. A monster wearing a prince’s face. My captor, my tormentor.

---