The Alien’s Vicious Starflash Manor (Empire of Frost and Flame #2)

Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

LARA

W hen Ivrael strode out of the woods and toward the evil wolf-things all those months ago, his expression was harder, crueler than it had ever been before.

It only made me want him more.

Even from a distance, I could read the determination in every line of his body, every fluid muscle ready to rain death down on the creatures that had spent the night torturing us.

He carried the same sword he’d brought to the cemetery, hilt wrapped in those elegant hands of his, blade lifted and ready to take on the monsters, and it was still shining with an otherworldly inner glow.

Ivrael’s pale blue eyes had that same golden fire burning deep inside him as he swung the sword left and right—an avenging angel in Mr. Darcy’s clothing, slaughtering terrifying wolf-creatures with every step.

It was the sexiest thing I had ever seen.

After all, there’s nothing quite like saving a girl’s life to turn her on.

That’s what I told myself at the time, anyway.

The wolf-monsters’ creepy, high-pitched voices descended into a tangle of yelps and cries, the wolves who had already been cut down lying still on the ground or, in some cases, trying to drag their bodies deeper into the forest to get away from Ivrael.

I stood up from my hiding place, Kila still inside my cloak, just in time for one of the creatures that was close to me to leap forward, its mouth wide open, and in the same moment I realized Ivrael was almost to us, holding the sword over his shoulder, prepared to swing it in a move that looked to me as much like swinging a baseball bat as anything else I’ve ever seen in real life.

A ray of morning sunlight beamed down on the scene, and for just an instant, time seemed to stand still like a snapshot captured in jewel tones.

Ivrael’s coat this morning was sapphire blue. Blood drops hung in the air as they fell from the tip of the sword, catching the light like tiny rubies glittering in the morning sunlight. The sun gleamed off a fang in the monster’s mouth, turning the slightly yellowed tooth pearlescent.

And even as I knew I was about to die, the thought flashed across my mind that as horrible as it was, Ivrael’s Icecaix Dukedom was beautiful. Perhaps the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

Then time started again, as if that half-heartbeat moment of stillness had never happened, and the wolf lunged forward at the same moment Ivrael let the sword fly. The blade whistled past my face, the tip so close I could feel the breeze of its passing, and the sword sliced cleanly through the wolf’s neck. Its head flew up into the air as its body kept going forward.

Hot blood and gore splashed across my face. It felt nothing like rubies, and there was nothing beautiful about it.

I jerked back, and Ivrael grabbed me with one hand, the other holding onto the hilt of the sword as its tip dropped into the snow. As he pulled me upright, the rest of the wolf creatures who had been circling us melted back into the woods, disappearing among the trees as if they had never even been there.

“What are you doing out here?” Ivrael asked.

“You always ask that as if you don’t know.” I wiped my hand across my face, scowling at the bloody mess I scraped away. “I’m trying to go home. I’m always trying to go home. That’s all I want.”

But even as I said it, I knew it wasn’t true. Not entirely.

That was no longer all I wanted.

“Why won’t you understand that there is no way for you to get home from here?” Ivrael sounded more frustrated than angry.

“Because you kidnapped her,” Kila said, her wings buzzing in irritation.

I shushed her, worried Ivrael would punish her for coming with me.

But Ivrael ignored the raya. He turned and headed back toward Frost Manor without ever letting go of my arm, forcing me to stumble behind him.

“You belong here,” he added in a mutter.

After a few steps, he seemed to realize that he was still carrying his sword and he stopped, letting go of me long enough to clean the blade and re-sheath it. His head was bent as he focused on his task, but I could have sworn I heard him say, “With me.”

I was too shocked to ask what he meant. But it couldn’t have been anything other than his belief that I belonged among his servants—otherwise, he wouldn’t have thrown me into their midst and expected me to work for him.

Right?

Once he’d dealt with his sword, Ivrael gathered himself, squaring his shoulders and inhaling, settling his features into a mask of calm rationality. Only then did I realize that he’d looked grim and more than a little worried, but also a bit wild when he’d come striding into the clearing.

“I think he was actually concerned about you,” Kila said quietly into my ear.

I didn’t respond. I was too busy gaping at Ivrael, who had stripped off two layers of clothing to get to an undershirt—which he had then dipped in the snow and was now using to clean the gore off my face.

“You cannot go wandering around outside the manor.” He gripped my chin and turned my head to get to the side of my face even as he scolded me like a parent reminding a child of something she should already know. “Especially not in these woods. They’re full of dangers, any one of which would kill you in a heartbeat—and not the Eternal Dream, but true death. Forever.”

I knew he wasn’t wrong. Twice now I had needed him to rescue me from those very dangers he was warning me against now.

His hands were surprisingly gentle as he cleaned my face. Fabric rough with half-melted snow dragged across my skin, and I shivered—though whether from the cold or his touch, I wasn’t sure. The undershirt he was using was already stained dark with wolf blood, yet he remained methodical, careful not to press too hard as he wiped away the evidence of what had just happened.

My breath caught as his thumb brushed the corner of my mouth. He paused, those impossible eyes fixed on mine, golden sparks dancing in their icy depths. For a heartbeat, I forgot everything—that he had bought me, that I was his prisoner, that I should hate him with every fiber of my being.

Because the way he had just moved through those wolf-creatures... I’d never seen anything like it. Pure deadly grace, like winter itself given form. Even the memory sent a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with fear. No one could stand against him in a fight.

Well. Maybe a firelord.

The thought sparked through my mind like lightning, and I filed it away for later consideration.

“Hold still,” he murmured, tilting my chin up with one finger. His skin burned cold against mine, but I leaned into the touch before I could stop myself. His breath hitched, almost imperceptibly.

I should have pulled away. Should have remembered what he was, what he’d done. But my treacherous body yearned toward him like a flower seeking sunlight—except he was anything but warm. He was winter incarnate, beautiful and deadly as the first frost of autumn.

“There,” he said finally, dropping the bloodied cloth. But his hand lingered on my face for a moment too long, and something molten pooled in my core. “Try not to get yourself killed again.”

The words were harsh, but his voice was rough, almost tender. It made something in my chest ache.

No. I couldn’t let myself feel this. Couldn’t let this strange attraction cloud my judgment. He was still my captor, still the man who had thrown me into his kitchens and bound me with magic.

But as I watched him retrieve his coat, movements precise and controlled as always, I knew I was fighting a losing battle against my own heart.

I clenched my fists, nails biting into my palms. The pain helped ground me, helped me remember who and what he really was.

Even if part of me whispered that maybe I didn’t know him at all.

Ivrael bent down so his eyes were level with mine, and I could almost feel the heat of the sparks in them as his voice turned pleading. “Promise me you will not try to escape through these woods again.”

“I promise,” I said.

His expression suggested he didn’t believe me.

I hoped I’d get better at lying to him.

And to myself.

A s we touched down in the courtyard and Ivrael dismissed his horse, I stared at the mountains in the distance, in the opposite direction from the forest. The ones inhabited by the firelords I’d decided were the only ones who might be able to beat him.

Once again, Adefina was waiting for us when Ivrael returned me to the kitchen. She had dark circles under her eyes, and it was clear she hadn’t slept for worrying about me.

“Why do you keep trying to leave?” she asked. “You’re going to die a horrible death if you don’t quit putting yourself in danger like that.”

Ivrael flashed a tired smile at Adefina before saying, “She’s right. You need to listen to your friend. She’s wise.”

I glared at him. “You’ve brought me back to my cage now. You don’t have to stick around.”

I’d worked hard to make sure not to seem too introspective on the ride back to the manor, closing my eyes and feigning sleep. Not that it was difficult to do after my night spent hiding from monsters. But I was eager to put my plan to contact the firelords into motion.

And to do that, I needed more information than I had. I began quizzing Adefina and Fintan for every piece of information they had about the firelords. Every chance I got, I asked for more information. What did they know about firelords? Why were the Caix and the firelords enemies?

I tried to weave my interest in all things firelord into everyday conversation, but it was bound to be noticed sooner or later.

“Why the sudden concern with the firelords?” Adefina asked a few days later as we sat down to our daily tea break. Fintan opened the door and came through to join us.

“I’m bored here,” I said, having already come up with my answer since I was certain she would ask at some point. “Back home, I had my phone, books, the internet, games, movies, everything I could ever possibly want at my fingertips. Here, I don’t have anything. I am dying for entertainment.”

To my relief, they all seemed to accept the response. “Ask away, then,” Adefina said, as we all settled around the small table with our midafternoon warm drinks. “I don’t know much, but what I do know, I will happily share.”

And so I continued gathering information about the firelords, even as I watched the days tick down to Izzy’s birthday.

“His Lordship’s father, the duke as was, never discussed the firelords,” Adefina told me one afternoon as she and I scrubbed lunch dishes.

We might have to cook for only a very few Starcaix, but we always had to wash dishes for everyone.

“He came from the borderlands, the old duke, the ones in the foothills of the Firelord Mountains themselves,” the cook continued. “I don’t know for certain, but I suspect his people suffered from firelord depredations in times past.”

“The duke’s father was Icecaix?” I asked, surprised. “Ivrael’s coloring is so different from everyone else’s here—” I paused, considering. “And there’s that picture in the gallery of his father. Ivrael looks just like him. I guess I just assumed the old duke was Starcaix.”

“I do not like to gossip, you know,” Adefina said primly.

I had to bite back a snicker. Gossiping was almost all we did, every day, all day long. I knew if I remained silent long enough, the cook would tell me everything she knew.

“The old duke lost his mind, and Duke Ivrael gave him the kindness of the Eternal Dream, all long before my time,” Adefina said, “so I cannot say with any certainty.”

I blinked, taken aback by the knowledge that the duke had killed his father out of what Adefina considered kindness.

Before I could say anything, Adefina continued, “His Lordship’s mother was all Ice, to be sure. But his father? Well, I’ll just say I wouldn’t be surprised to learn His Lordship has some Star in his lineage.”

“How many humans have Caix in their genetic mix?” I asked, drawn even further from my questions’ original purpose, but unable to resist learning more.

“I can’t be knowing that—but aye, there’s plenty.” Adefina said. “Some with Star, some with Ice, as well, though you’d hardly know it these days. Just the barest touch of magic, and that too easily wiped out by all the iron in your world.”

I knew I shouldn’t let my curiosity about Ivrael’s past continue to distract me from quizzing Adefina to learn what she knew about the firelords. Yet, I couldn’t help asking, “Does that happen often? Ice and Starcaix ending up together, I mean.”

“More than you might guess,” Kila said, buzzing up and dipping her thimble, the one that served as both teacup and soup bowl, into the dishwater.

“But the Icecaix are so…so…” I waved my hand in the air as I searched for a word.

“Cold?” Adefina suggested.

When I began nodding, she and Kila both snickered.

“They all just seem so obsessed with power and control,” I added.

“More Caix than you would imagine are willing to trade everything for a chance at power. If not for themselves, then for their children—Ice and Star.” An odd, almost melancholy expression crossed Adefina’s face.

Before I could ask her what she was thinking about, though, she turned the conversation back to the firelords.

Adefina was telling the truth when she told me she didn’t know much. Not with any certainty, anyway. But she had plenty of stories, and over the next few weeks, she told them all to me, I think.

Most were tales of the firelords defrauding or destroying the Caix in one way or another. Sometimes the Caix were victorious against these attempts, but more often than not, they were cautionary tales, promising death and destruction, misery and mayhem, to anyone who made the mistake of attempting to deal with a firelord.

“So you’re telling me you don’t have any stories where the firelords are the good guys? No renegade firelords going against everyone else in their culture? Nothing like that?” I asked one afternoon as she and I washed the dishes Ramira had brought back down to the kitchen from Ivrael’s suite.

“There’s one,” Adefina conceded. “A story of a firelord who fell in love with a wood cercy.”

“I know this one,” Kila announced, flying up to perch on the flour canister Adefina kept in the cupboard above the baking counter.

“A what?”

“They live inside trees,” Kila explained, flitting around my head. “They’re lithe and beautiful. And a little prone to distraction.”

“Like a wood nymph?”

She shrugged. “I guess?”

I shook off the thought. “Does this story at least have a happy ending?”

Adefina snorted. “Not for the wood cercy.”

“These fairy tales for Starcaix suck,” I said. “You people need to learn how to tell some uplifting stories. Stories that end with ‘They all lived happily ever after.’”

“You asked for stories about firelords,” Adefina said, wiping her hands on a tea towel. “You can’t very well expect both firelords and happy endings in the same tale.”

Kila snickered, and with a groan, I shook my head. “Fine. Go ahead.” I waved a soapy hand at Adefina. “Tell your story. Make me cry. See if I care.”

“Well, since you’re tired of having your heart broken by my firelord stories, I’ll skip the beautiful story of the firelord’s unyielding love for the fair maiden and her adoration, in return, of the firelord.”

“Yes, please,” I said. “I’ll take all that as a given.”

Adefina thought for a moment, finding her place in the tale. “Realizing they could not live without one another, the firelord and the wood cercy were secretly wed, determined to defy both their peoples together. Soon enough, though, the Starcaix fell pregnant—and Caix bodies are not meant to bear firelord infants.”

I cringed. “This is about to get ugly, isn’t it?”

“Very ugly,” Kila said.

“Hush, you two,” Adefina said, but her brown eyes twinkled with amusement. “Now…where was I? Oh. Yes.”

Kila and I glanced at each other, grinning.

Adefina’s voice took on a storytelling cadence again. “When it came time for her to give birth, the wood cercy screamed and writhed in pain, but the baby would not come. This went on for days until at last the cercy begged the firelord to take the baby from her body in any way he could, finally asking him to save their child by cutting her open with his talon.”

“Fuck,” I said, drawing the word out and clutching my abdomen in sympathy. “That’s what hospitals are for. The Icecaix lands need better medical care. Damn.”

“Do you want to hear the end?”

“Do I? Jeez. Yeah, I guess.” I fished around in the dish tub to check for anything else that needed to be washed.

Adefina harrumphed.

“But that is why C-sections were invented,” I said, unable to keep from adding one last comment.

Adefina pressed her lips together and raised her eyebrows.

“Okay, okay. Keep going.” I finished washing and rinsing the last of the bowls and handed it over.

Adefina continued her story as she dried the bowl and put it away, stacking it into one of the cupboards. “Where was I? Oh, yes. The cercy begged the firelord to take the child from her body, to save their infant. She knew she would not survive, and she couldn’t bear the thought of her child dying with her.”

“The firelord couldn’t do it,” Kila interjected, bouncing on the flour canister.

“Yes,” Adefina said, giving Kila a reproving look for interrupting her story. “The firelord could not bring himself to harm his beloved wife. But neither he nor the wood cercy had counted on the strength of an infant firelord’s will to live. For suddenly, from within her, the bride’s belly began to glow, and she let out a final scream as the firelord baby burned and clawed his way out of her womb, using his talons to destroy the last barrier between himself and freedom.”

I clapped my hand over my mouth, and Kila shuddered.

“Oh, dear holy fuck,” I said, speaking past my hand. “That’s awful.”

Kila nodded. “I hate that story.”

“So what happened to the baby and the father?” I was almost afraid to ask, but I had to know.

“Unable to face raising the infant alone, the firelord took his child back across the mountains to his people. Where, rumor has it, they were both executed— the father for being a traitor to his people, the son for being an evil half-breed mix of Caix and firelord.” Adefina gathered our teacups and arranged them on the counter.

“You really think they would kill a child?” The thought made my stomach churn, and I pulled down a canister, spooning out dried tea leaves to distract myself as I waited for Adefina’s answer.

“I don’t doubt it in the least.” Wrapping a towel around her hand, Adefina took the kettle from its hook over the fire and poured steaming water over the leaves. “The firelords are ruthless, and despite their affinity with fire, their hearts are colder than the coldest of the Icecaix.”

“Huh.” I wrapped my arms around myself, even more chilled than usual as I made my way over to our tea table and sat down.

Greeting Fintan absently when he entered the room and joined us, I stirred my spoon slowly in my drink, barely hearing the conversation as it flowed around me, only contributing when someone posed a direct question to me.

If the firelords were as vicious as Adefina’s stories all indicated, going to them for help was a bad idea.

Then again, I didn’t have much other choice. Kila had no idea how to get anywhere from here—not even the Starcaix lands she was from. And although Fintan had been willing to help me by giving me a weapon last time I’d run, that was apparently as far as his courage went.

As for Adefina… I didn’t know what compelled her to stay in Frost Manor. But when I’d finally worked up the nerve to ask her to run with me, she’d shaken her head and gazed at me with sad eyes.

“Oh, child,” she’d said. “I have nothing to return to in the Starcaix lands. And no desire to live among humans. I won’t stop you, but I won’t join you in any attempt to escape, either.”

There had been something so heavy, so melancholy in her voice, that I had not been able to bring myself to press her on the issue.

That left only the firelords.

After all, I knew where they were—or close enough, anyway, since I’d gotten Fintan to point out the pass in the distant mountains. They were unlikely to return me to the Icecaix if they disliked all Caix as much as Adefina’s stories suggested. And although I didn’t know how they felt about humans, I figured they couldn’t be much worse than the Icecaix.

Certainly no more terrifying. Right?

Yeah. I was an idiot. Both for thinking the firelords might be safe and for desiring the cruel duke who had kidnapped me.

And the longer I stayed in Starfrost Manor, the more that desire grew.

I could no longer deny that desire—not even to myself.