Chapter 3
CHAPTER 3
IVRAEL
L ara and Izzy’s stepfather sidles up beside me, standing far too close, and my spine stiffens at his proximity. Even the way the Starfire Crown, secreted inside my coat, pulses against me suggests irritation.
“Yes?” I do not glance down at the human male.
“We have unfinished business.” Roland’s greed practically radiates from him in waves that make my lip curl in disgust.
I maintain my composure, though frost threatens to crystallize from the air around me.
This human actually believes he can negotiate with me as if we are equals. The presumption would be amusing if it weren’t so tedious.
“Indeed.” I let the word fall between us like hail. “Shall we make this official?”
Without waiting for his response, I gesture toward the squat, amphibious Starcaix vendor’s table where I purchased Lara nearly a year ago. The creature’s bulbous eyes gleam with avarice as we approach—clearly remembering the generous commission from our last transaction.
“The same terms as before?” the vendor asks in that wet, gurgling voice that makes even my skin crawl.
“Not quite.” I keep my tone precisely calibrated—formal enough to remind him of his place, but not so cold as to discourage the transaction. “The younger sister requires... special considerations.”
Lara’s head snaps up at that, her eyes narrowing. Such a quick mind behind that defiant exterior. I can practically see her filing away this detail for later examination.
“Special considerations cost extra,” the vendor says, running a webbed hand over his ledger.
“I’m well aware.” I allow a touch of cold to enter my voice. Small ice crystals form on the edges of his papers, and he quickly pulls his hand back.
The process of purchasing the younger Evans sister should be simple enough—I’ve done this before, after all. But this time the stakes are higher. Everything must be precise. The timing, the payment... the consequences.
“I told you I want more this time.” Roland shifts his weight from foot to foot.
He carefully avoids looking at Lara, though I note how her fingers flex at her sides, her rage evident in every line of her body.
“Oh, you will certainly receive extra.” Winter seeps into my smile. Such a small, greedy man, demanding more payment when he has no concept of the true value of what he’s selling.
The coin I carry pulses with cursed energy, eager to fulfill its purpose. Soon enough, Roland will learn the price of bargaining with an Icecaix duke.
But for now, I need him compliant, convinced he’s getting the better end of our deal.
“The market rate has gone up,” he continues, emboldened by what he perceives as my acquiescence. “And there’s been what you might call complications. Questions about the other one’s disappearance.”
Yes, I’m quite aware of the complications.
That’s what comes of haggling with me the first time.
But I don’t say any of that aloud.
“How fortunate that you’ll soon have the funds to address such inconveniences.” I keep my tone mild, though the air between us grows markedly cooler.
Roland’s greed makes him an easy mark, but his desperation to profit from his stepdaughters’ sale makes him a particularly satisfying target for what I have planned.
I hand the Starcaix at the table a copy of my latest requirements.
As the vendor reads through them and begins adding the information to his ledger, I turn to examine Izzy with deliberate thoroughness, though I already know everything about her that matters.
She stands straighter under my scrutiny, her chin lifting in an echo of her sister’s defiance. But where Lara burns hot, Izzy runs cool—calculating rather than confrontational.
“The usual forms must also be observed, of course,” I say, returning my attention to the vendor. “Though we can dispense with the lineage verification this time.”
The vendor’s throat sac pulses with interest. “No verification? Most irregular...”
“I’m well aware of exactly what blood runs through her veins.” I let my power thrum beneath my words, a reminder of exactly who they’re dealing with. “The forms, if you please.”
As the vendor shuffles through papers, Izzy leans closer to her sister. “What’s happening? What does he mean about our blood?”
“Don’t—” Lara starts to warn her, but I silence them both with a look.
“Sign here.” The vendor pushes a document across the table toward Roland. The parchment gleams with subtle enchantments—binding magic woven into every line.
The heft of the coin purse in my hand feels satisfying as I test it, letting the jingling sound carry its own warning. I watch Roland’s eyes track the movement, his greed warring with what little sense he possesses.
“Put it to good use,” I say as I toss him the purse, infusing my voice with just enough of a threatening edge to make him pause—but only for a heartbeat. Then he pours the coins onto the table and smirks.
Humans are so predictable.
The vendor records the transaction with meticulous care, his webbed fingers leaving slight dampness on the ledger’s pages.
Izzy watches the process with horrified fascination, while Lara’s gaze remains fixed on Roland’s hands as he counts his payment.
I reach into my coat, my fingers closing around the specially prepared coin. “One final detail.”
Everyone’s attention turns to me.
The vendor’s throat sac pulses rapidly—he senses the magic, though he likely doesn’t understand its nature. Even Roland seems to notice something amiss, his movements becoming more tentative.
Three passes of my thumb activate the enchantment as I whisper the binding words, their power humming against my skin. Ice-blue symbols flare briefly in the coin’s surface before fading to invisibility as I hold it out to Roland. “For your troubles.”
It’s the same thing I said to him last time. He took the cursed money then, too—and from his complaints, the troubles I’d wished upon him had indeed arrived.
He hesitates, some animal instinct perhaps warning him of danger. His hand hovers over the coin as if feeling its chill.
But in the end, Roland’s greed wins out—as I knew it would. His fingers close around the coin, and I allow myself the smallest smile of satisfaction. Even Lara’s obvious desire to warn him doesn’t manifest in words. She’s learning, however reluctantly.
“Now our business is concluded.” The finality in my voice carries more than just the power of our transaction. The coin’s magic seals itself with his acceptance, its curse beginning its work.
When Roland opens his mouth to argue—foolish man—I silence him with the barest gesture, hardly sparing him a glance. A thin layer of frost forms over his lips, not enough to harm but enough to remind him of his place. He’s served his purpose. Whatever happens to him now is simply collateral damage in a much grander design.
“The transaction is recorded,” the vendor announces, pressing his seal into the wax at the bottom of the document. “The younger Evans girl is now legally bound to Duke Ivrael of Starfrost Manor, with all rights and responsibilities therein.”
“Rights,” Lara scoffs under her breath. “As if we have any rights in your world.”
I turn to her slowly, letting my gaze drift to the ribbons still adorning her wrists. “You have exactly the rights I choose to give you, princess. Best remember that.”
Izzy watches this exchange with those sharp eyes of hers, and I see the moment she begins to understand the dynamic between her sister and me. It’s there in the slight widening of her eyes, the thoughtful tilt of her head.
“Time to go,” I announce, gesturing for Khrint to bring Izzy forward. “We have a long journey ahead.”
“Wait,” Roland says, apparently having found his voice again. “The police?—”
I cut him off with a wave of my hand, ice crystals forming in the air between us. “Will not be a concern. The coin in your pocket ensures that you will get exactly what you deserve.” I let my voice drop to a whisper that carries only to his ears. “Consider it my gift to you.”
The color drains from his face as understanding dawns. His fingers clutch convulsively at the pocket holding the cursed coin, but it’s far too late. The magic has already taken hold.
I turn away from Roland without a second glance, leaving him to discover the full implications of my generosity at his leisure. The coin’s enchantment will ensure his silence—and his suffering.
A fitting punishment for a man who would sell his stepdaughters to aliens.
But I have more pressing concerns than petty revenge. The real work begins now, with both sisters finally in my possession. The timing couldn’t be more critical—the week of the double full moon approaches on Trasq, and with it, the peace summit Jonyk has called, a convocation between the firelords and the Icecaix designed to keep the two races from annihilating one another, despite the fact they supposedly renewed the peace accords mere days ago.
I glance at Lara, noting how she’s positioned herself protectively in front of Izzy despite her bindings. Such fierce loyalty—albeit inconvenient for me.
And yet... something in me responds to that fire in her, even as I know I must eventually extinguish it.
The magical ribbons around her wrists glow with a subtle warning light. The sight sends an unwelcome pang through my chest. The bindings were necessary—she proved that with her attempted escape—but watching her test them, seeing the pain flash across her face...
I push the thought aside. There’s no room for sentiment in what must be done.
“Come,” I say, my tone commanding. Both sisters need to understand their new reality. “We’re leaving.”
Khrint guides Izzy forward, his grip on her arm professional but firm. Unlike her sister, she hasn’t yet tried to run—though I suspect that has more to do with shock than acceptance. She’s studying everything with an analytical gaze, collecting information. A different kind of danger than her sister’s passionate defiance.
The market churns around us, its usual cacophony of merchant cries and haggling voices creating a discordant backdrop to our little drama. A few of the more observant vendors have noticed something unusual occurring, their otherworldly eyes tracking our progress. I let my power leak just enough to frost the ground beneath my feet. They quickly find other things to look at.
A Starcaix merchant with delicate green-gold wings flutters past, her gaze lingering curiously on my small procession before my cold stare sends her hurrying away.
“My ship isn’t far,” I tell the Evans sisters, though Lara already knows this. She walked this path less than an Earth hour ago, after all. “Try not to draw attention.”
Izzy stumbles slightly, her eyes widening as we pass a stall staffed by something that might charitably be called humanoid, if one were being extremely generous with the term. “What was that?”
“The market attracts all kinds,” I reply smoothly. “Best not to stare.”
Lara makes a sound that might be a laugh, if laughs could carry that much bitterness. “He means the market attracts monsters. Like him.”
The words shouldn’t sting. I’ve been called far worse by beings far more powerful. And yet...
I pause, turning to face her with deliberate slowness. “Careful, princess. You’re not the only one who can be bound by words.”
Her eyes flash with that delicious defiance that simultaneously draws and infuriates me. “Is that a threat?”
“Merely an observation.” I lean closer, close enough to see the amber flecks in her eyes, to catch the scent of her skin—snowfly honey, sliced carcenda fruit, spiced bardenberry wine, and something uniquely her that makes my blood heat in ways it shouldn’t. “After all, you seemed receptive enough to this monster’s kiss earlier.”
A flush creeps up her neck, but her glare could freeze the sun itself. “That was before you magically handcuffed me.”
“No,” I correct her, letting my voice drop to a whisper meant for her ears alone. “That was while I magically handcuffed you. And you didn’t object then.”
She jerks back as if I’ve struck her, and I allow myself a small smile of satisfaction. It’s petty of me, but her ability to affect my composure deserves some turnabout.
“Lara?” Izzy’s voice breaks through our tension. “What did he whisper to you?”
“Nothing,” Lara snaps, too quickly. “He’s trying to mess with my head. Let’s just get this over with.”
I gesture for them to continue walking, noting how Izzy’s gaze darts between her sister and me. She’s piecing things together, this one. I’ll need to watch her carefully.
“What happens now?” Izzy’s voice remains steady despite the slight tremor in her hands. “Where are you taking us?”
Before I can answer, Lara cuts in. “To hell, basically—if it had frozen over. And had better architecture.”
I arch an eyebrow at her. “I wasn’t aware you’d developed such an appreciation for Icecaix design during your stay.”
“The ice sculptures are lovely,” she retorts. “It’s the company that leaves something to be desired.”
The ribbons at her wrists pulse, responding to the spike of defiance in her tone. I notice how she winces slightly but refuses to acknowledge the discomfort. Such stubborn pride—it makes breaking her resistance both more challenging and more intriguing.
“Wait,” Izzy says, clearly processing everything she’s seeing. “Ice sculptures? What exactly?—”
Before she can finish her question, we emerge onto a broader thoroughfare, and I catch Izzy’s sharp intake of breath as she gets her first clear view of the market’s true nature. Beings of all descriptions mill about—some humanoid, others decidedly not. A Starcaix merchant with too many eyes calls out prices for bottled emotions while another who seems to be made entirely of living smoke arranges crystallized memories in their display case.
“This can’t be real.” Izzy’s voice comes out in a whisper. “It’s impossible.”
If Izzy thinks the market is impossible, she has no idea what awaits her in my world.
Or what she truly is.
“You’d be surprised what’s possible,” I tell her, moving toward the gate.
I glance back in time to see Lara’s shoulders twitch as the ribbons around her wrists tug at her, forcing her to follow me.
“Bastard,” she mutters under her breath.
That’s fine. Let her hate me for the handcuffs.
Better that than having her realize that every step she takes toward my ship brings her closer to her true destiny—and her doom.