Page 4 of The Alien’s Cruel Starfrost Domain (Empire of Frost and Flame #1)

CHAPTER 4

IVRAEL

A fter leaving the Trasqo Market, I carried the unconscious girl to my spaceship, its lines flickering into visibility just outside the market gate. I was already calling out instructions as I headed up the ramp.

“Cyan, prepare a translator injection.” Real-time translation. A boon for interspecies communication. A hindrance if I wanted to be able to say anything else without the girl understanding me.

“Forgot something important, did we?” Cyan’s tone dripped with mock sympathy. “And here I thought you were supposed to be the prepared one.”

“No.” My jaw tightened. “That’s why I had you doing translations while we were in the market.”

“Ah yes, making me do all the work. As usual.” The AI’s voice held a theatrical sigh. “Whatever would you do without me?”

A panel opened in the ceiling, and a metallic arm lowered a hypodermic spray before me with an unnecessarily flourishing motion. I plucked it out of the air and applied it to the girl’s neck .

“There. Crisis averted thanks to your ever-reliable AI,” Cyan said sweetly.

“Good enough,” I muttered.

“You’re welcome,” she sang out. “I do so enjoy cleaning up after your oversights. Keeps my circuits fresh.”

I’d brought two footmen with me on this trip—my security lead and personal valet Khrint, who’d been with me for cycles, and a young man I was considering having trained as part of my security force and put in place to play the role of underbutler.

The underbutler candidate, whose name I could never remember, glanced nervously at Khrint when he heard the tone Cyan took with me. The valet gave a tiny shake of his head and patted the air in front of him, as if telling the young man to calm down.

If he was going to be part of my regular security team, the candidate would need to learn to differentiate among the various roles I played—Duke of Starfrost on Trasq, and captain of a starship when I was off-world. The latter could be questioned by underlings. The former could not.

Any security footman would also have to get used to the way Cyan and I interacted. She was one of the few who could tease me with impunity.

I loaded Lara into the crystal cryocasket, where she lay as if encased by diamonds and ice. The cryosleep took hold, her skin growing ever paler as the chamber slowed her heartbeat. I placed the stasis fruit I’d fed her back into its specialized recycler, where Cyan would create a new one for me.

“You two can load in,” I told the two security footmen, gesturing at their cryocaskets. “Cyan, lock us down for takeoff,” I added when Khrint leveled a look at me. “Don’t worry,” I said to the footman, my tone pointed. “Cyan can watch me at least as well as you can.”

Khrint huffed, but headed back to his cryocasket.

Truth be told, I wanted to spend longer staring at the beautiful woman whose protector had betrayed her to me. My jaw clenched at the thought.

I couldn’t regret the difficulties the coin I gave him would cause in the next year. I only wish I’d been able to destroy him the way I wanted. Unfortunately, I couldn’t give the bastard as much trouble as I would prefer to. After all, I still needed him to deliver Lara’s sister to me on the eve of her eighteenth birthday.

In the meantime, I would have to decide what to do with Lara for almost an entire human year.

“Dammit,” I cursed under my breath, using the humans’ language—the best language for curses. Humans were so superstitious.

I moved away from Lara’s cryocasket and threw myself down in the captain’s chair. She was far too tempting. My cock twitched at the thought of her. At the memory of her soft, pliant body pressed against mine, it hardened entirely.

I scrubbed my hand across my eyes, determined not to give in to my baser urges. That had never turned out well for me before—and none of those women had been half the temptation that Lara was turning out to be.

I could still smell her scent on me, deep and sweet—like snowfly honey, sliced carcenda fruit, spiced bardenberry wine.

I was desperate to touch her again. I ached to wake her up, tell her everything. Bury myself in her and make her mine.

No, I decided. Better to place myself in my own cryocasket. With any luck, I would have too many duties waiting for me at home to have the energy to spare for her once we got there.

With a determined nod, I laid in the course for home, my ship lifting smoothly off the ground and into the air. I consoled myself with the thought that once we were firmly on course, and I’d shifted us to FTL, I would knock myself out to get past the disorientation of the wormholes, retreating into the dark, dreamless cryosleep that always seemed as if it must feel so much like the Eternal Dream.

But for now, I couldn’t quit watching her. Lara Evans. If I was right, the girl was heir to an unusual power, one that I desperately needed to bring my plans for my world to fruition.

I had timed this purchase precisely. But I didn’t want to draw too much attention to either the girls or my actions. And so I had arranged for the quiet sale in the Trasqo Market .

I hadn’t counted on how she would make me feel.

With a sigh, I climbed into my own cryocasket, took a bite of the stasis fruit Cyan had placed there for me, and waited for it to take effect.

In the meantime, I stared at Lara’s lovely profile through the cryocasket panes separating us and promised myself I would be able to do whatever it took to save my people.

Even if my unexpected desire for her had me questioning myself more than I had ever anticipated.

W hen I woke to a clanging noise, it took me a moment to reorient myself.

Right. I was in my cryocasket, headed home.

And I recognized that noise. It was the alarm.

I had set a course to avoid the heavily trafficked routes. What could have been out here so far from the commerce lanes? We were nowhere on the way to any station or inhabited planet.

I rolled onto one side and tapped in my exit code on the keypad glowing softly in the darkened chamber.

The crystalline cover slid down toward my feet with a whirring noise, and I sat up. With a wave of my hand in the air, I turned off the alarm.

I swung my legs over the edge as the side panels lowered. My feet hit the floor, and I shivered, calling up the environmental controls. None of the other Caix were awake, so it wouldn’t bother them if I enjoyed the heat a little bit.

I knew I should make my way toward the captain’s chair, but I couldn't help stopping to check in on Lara on the way.

She looked much as she had when I saw her what seemed like moments ago but was actually—I checked the chronometer—almost fifty-two hours. Not quite two full days on Trasq, a little more than two days on Earth.

I’d gotten in the habit of measuring time both according to my planet’s systems and Earth’s—after all, I’d been keeping track of Lara’s age since I learned about her. Izzy’s, too, though I suddenly cared much less about the younger sister than I’d ever anticipated.

Which was stupid. After all, she was every bit as integral to my plans as Lara. But it didn’t matter.

Even in cryosleep, Lara looked perfect. Beautiful. Ethereal. Like a princess.

I could not imagine wanting anyone more than I wanted Lara.

A harsh laugh escaped me as I turned away from her cryocasket and headed toward the bridge.

I couldn’t imagine anyone being any more forbidden to me, either.

Once I reached the captain’s chair, I slid my hands across the ship’s interface, the lights around them flashing blue to indicate success.

I could control the ship from anywhere inside it, of course, but Cyan was picky, sensitive, and she preferred I use the chair with its specialized controls.

“Hello, Ivrael,” she said. “I’m glad you’re awake.”

She also balked if I tried to forgo the niceties. “Hello, Cyan. How are you?”

“I am troubled,” she said, satisfied—now that I had greeted her appropriately—to move into discussing the reason she’d woken me up.

“And why is that?” I leaned back to slouch in the chair, elbows on the armrest and one booted foot kicked out in front of me.

“There appears to be a firelord ship approaching.”

“Approaching? How close is it?” In other words, why did you set off the proximity alarm? But I didn’t say that part out loud.

“Closer than I am entirely comfortable with. Especially on a route this rarely traveled.”

I sat up straight in the chair, planting both feet firmly on the deck. “Agreed. Show me?”

Cyan set the display in the air directly in front of me, helpfully highlighting regions as she discussed them.

“You can see the firelord ship here.” She highlighted the golden outstretched wings of the firelord’s spaceship. I used to think vanity caused them to use that form for their spaceships, but nothing they did surprised me any longer.

“Here, here, and here,” Cyan continued, “you’ll see the most common firelord mercantile routes, all at least a light-cycle away.”

Three paths lit up.

“Looks like they’re all more than a single light-cycle,” I said.

Cyan made a noise of agreement. “And the closest is not one that’s currently in regular use. In fact, I would suggest that whoever this firelord is, he’s trying to avoid being noticed.”

“Much as we are.”

“Indeed.”

“Have they seen us?”

“Not yet.” She paused—a few seconds to me, but with Cyan’s computing power, it was practically an eternity before she asked, “You don’t think anyone knows what you’re doing, do you?”

I shook my head. “I doubt it. I hope not.”

“Do you want me to change course?”

I tapped my forefinger against my lips. “If we stay, how likely are they to see us?”

“There’s a less than ten percent chance they will detect us with their current technology.”

I swiped through several screens’ worth of imagery, examining the firelord’s ship. “Are we sure he doesn’t know we’re here?”

“As sure as I can be without getting inside his head.”

“Do you think we can track him without being spotted?”

“Of course.” Cyan gave an offended little sniff, and I had to fight back a snicker.

“Can we find out what they’re up to? Maybe intercept messages?”

Several seconds of silence suggested Cyan was playing out billions of permutations, possibilities for dealing with the firelord’s ship.

“I believe we can,” she said. “If we circle around on this elliptical plane”—she brought up a star-chart and traced the route to show me what she meant—“we ought to be able to avoid the ship’s trackers picking up any of our trails—assuming, of course, they’re not actively scanning for us.”

“Good. Let’s do it.” I slouched back down in my seat as Cyan brought us about and set our course to move in behind the firelord’s ship.

“What’s the time estimate on being able to pick up any communications?”

Cyan made a contemplative noise, a habit she’d picked up early in our association, designed to let me know when she was thinking. “Do you want that in Trasqo time or Earth time?”

“Trasqo time will do.”

“Then it will be roughly five solar clicks.” She paused, and then added snarkily, “Or an hour, if you’ve forgotten how to calculate in your own time.”

“Thanks ever so much,” I said dryly. “But I haven’t forgotten what a quintclick is.”

Despite Cyan’s snark, I was glad for the delay. It gave me some time to consider what the firelords might be doing this far outside their territory—and outside anyone’s approved shipping lanes.

By the time that quintclick had passed, though, I still didn’t have an answer to that question.

If the firelords had any inkling of my plans, they would have been scanning for us already—but they weren’t, which meant they weren’t out here for me.

And yet, I couldn’t fathom anything else that would bring them out to this part of space.

Unless, of course, one of their scout ships had discovered something valuable in the area. But that didn’t seem very likely either, since this route had been mapped for generations—it was probably one of the earliest routes to Earth in existence.

“Ivrael?” Cyan’s voice startled me out of my contemplation, her tone carrying that particular lilt she used when she was about to be insufferable.

“Yes?”

“We’ve completed the elliptical approach and are coming up behind the firelord’s ship. You know, that thing you were so worried about?”

“And there’s no indication?—”

“Nothing to suggest they have observed us,” she interrupted with far too much satisfaction. “I am capable of basic stealth operations, you know. I’m not some newly programmed navigation system fresh off the assembly line.”

I tamped down my snort. “Sorry I questioned your sneaking ability.”

“As well you should be. I could teach those firelords a thing or two about actual stealth, rather than just charging around the galaxy in their flashy ships.”

“Would you like to share the results of your spying with me as well? Or shall we continue discussing your superior capabilities?”

“Oh, but discussing my capabilities is so much fun.” She paused dramatically. “However, if you insist... The ship we’re following is The Nightflame.” She delivered this with all the flourish of a performer announcing the climax of a show.

“Oh, fuck,” I breathed out. “The firelord king’s ship?”

“The very same. Aren’t you glad you have such a talented AI looking out for you?”

My stomach clenched, and I swallowed hard. “There’s no good reason for him to be out here—not unless...” My voice trailed off. “You don’t think he’s been to Earth, too?”

“Not according to his ship’s logs.”

“You accessed his ship’s logs?”

Cyan’s laugh rang through the cabin. “Please. Their AI is practically prehistoric. Despite embracing most forms of technology, the firelords are as suspicious of artificial intelligence as your people. That thing piloting his ship is barely sentient. It took about as much effort as teaching you to pilot in atmosphere.”

“Be careful,” I admonished her, though I couldn’t quite keep the fondness from my voice. “If anyone on Trasq catches you doing that kind of thing, you’ll be stripped down to your component parts and sold off—and that’s if you’re lucky. Otherwise, they’ll smelt you down until there’s nothing left but molten metal.”

The playfulness dropped from her voice. After a moment’s silence, she acknowledged my worry. “I promise I’ll take care.” Then she added, unable to help herself, “Someone has to stay alive to keep you out of trouble, after all.”

I shook my head, dropping it into my hands. It wasn’t the first time we’d had that discussion. I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands, wishing I had some way to be certain I could keep my ship’s AI safe.

But I knew that wasn’t possible—we would have to leave the entire system in order to find a place she could be truly free. And I couldn’t do that. Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

As for the firelord king… Well, it wasn’t as if this was the first time he’d left the planet without warning. If he had been Caix, he would have been declared to have abdicated his throne a dozen times in the last century. Especially the last time, when he’d been gone for eight star cycles.

But the firelords were less likely to want to overthrow their government than we Caix were.

Certainly less likely than I am, at any rate.

“Did you learn anything else from your snooping?” I asked Cyan.

“Nothing of any note. The ship does have the king aboard, but even their logs don’t mention their destination or the reason for the journey.”

I paused for another long moment before replying. “Then stay on course to drop us into the next wormhole segment. If it looks like they’re trying to use our FTL trail to sniff us out, take evasive maneuvers and wake me.”

“Yes, sir.”

I should have felt safe enough leaving Cyan in control. But as I stood to head back to my cryocasket, once again pausing to look in on Lara in all her ethereal sleeping beauty, I found myself worrying .

If the wrong firelords became aware of what I was trying to do, I wouldn’t survive the attempt.

Worse, neither would Lara.

They would incinerate us both.

I was used to facing such possibilities on my own. But the thought of exposing Lara to that kind of blazing death suddenly horrified me, brought bile to my throat. I swallowed it down and leaned in close to her cryocasket, my breath fogging the clear plate over her face as I whispered, “I’ll do everything I can to protect you from that kind of pain.”

At least until the time came to put my own plan into action.

I would hide her away in my household, make her unremarkable. Invisible. And then I would stay away from her. At the end of a year, once I had her sister as well, I would implement my plan. Until then, I would ignore her.

Easy enough.

I gave a decisive nod and stepped away.

But as I settled into my own cryocasket, I knew I was lying to myself. I could no more ignore Lara Evans than I could cut out my own heart.

No.

The next Earth year was going to be sheer agony—a torture I wasn’t certain I could endure.

And no matter how I protected her, that year would end with Lara’s death.