Page 5 of The Alien’s Cruel Starfrost Domain (Empire of Frost and Flame #1)

CHAPTER 5

LARA

S ometimes I feel like nothing ever changes in this domain of ice and snow. Everything is frozen into a permanent stasis. And if I don’t get out, the cold will freeze me, too, keeping me from ever leaving. Worse, it will grab Izzy as well, encase her in ice, starting with her ankles and moving up her body until she’s as trapped here as I am.

At first, I tried to refuse to become a maid in Ivrael’s mansion. And for the first couple of days, Adefina allowed it. She told me every morning what my duties were, then reminded me what I was supposed to be doing every time she walked by. At least, unlike the other Caix, she was kind, albeit relentless in her instructions.

After three days, though, the duke made his first appearance in the kitchen, flinging the door open and stepping through, all haughty grandeur and aristocratic bearing.

“Adefina tells me you haven’t been performing your duties.” He stared down his nose at me.

I scrambled up from where I’d been sitting on the hearthstones, staring into the fire. “Yeah, that’s because I don’t have any duties here.” I crossed my arms. “I’m a prisoner, not a servant.”

Ivrael stepped closer to me. For all that he was tall and slender, his presence filled the room, and he loomed over me. I could smell the crisp linen of his shirt and the scent of him underneath.

“You are whatever I say you are, princess,” he growled low in his throat. “And I say that until I have your sister, you’re my servant.”

I glared at him through narrowed eyes. “You can’t make me clean your fucking house. I won’t do it. I’m not a maid.”

This time he moved so close I scrambled back automatically, until my heels hit the slightly raised stones of the hearth. I tripped and lost my balance, my arms windmilling as I began to fall backwards.

The duke’s hand whipped out fast, like a serpent striking, and he snaked his arm around my waist. In one smooth motion, he hauled me up against his chest, holding me there, almost dangling me, with my toes barely touching the floor. “You are lucky cleaning is all I’m requiring you to do.”

My mouth gaped open, and Ivrael’s lips curved into a wicked grin. “I could always have you delivered straight to my bed.”

I jerked in surprise and began to pull away. His other hand snapped up toward my face, and I flinched, but he simply coiled a single curl of my hair around his forefinger and leaned in toward me to whisper, his breath brushing against my cheek.

“But if you don’t start attending to your more official duties,” he rasped out, “that will have to change.” His long, dark lashes swept downward, casting spiky shadows on his cheeks. “Unless, of course, that’s the kind of service you’d prefer to perform?”

My whole body tightened at his words, chills sliding in and through me, and I wasn’t sure if the sensation was born of terror or lust—or both. I shivered against him, and he made a satisfied sound in his throat.

Between us, the length of him hardened. My nipples tightened, and the response speared through my entire body, landing in my core.

My mouth dried, and I tried to swallow—but I couldn’t.

“I know I’d prefer that,” he rasped out. “And if you’d prefer it, I could arrange for it.”

From somewhere behind the Duke, Adefina cleared her throat noisily. “If His Lordship would excuse us,” she said, her tone pointed and dry, “Lara and I have work to do.”

“Of course,” Ivrael replied smoothly, setting me back on my feet and steadying me with one hand on my hip. Releasing the curl, he traced the edge of my jawline with a feather-light touch, holding my gaze captive with his own. “It’s entirely up to her.”

Determined not to show any weakness in front of him, I locked my knees and remained standing as he took a step away from me.

He held my gaze for what seemed like an eternity before he turned back to Adefina. “Let me know if she continues to refuse to do her job, and I will send someone to bring her to my chambers.”

“Of course, Your Lordship,” Adefina said, bobbing a curtsy.

Without another word, he strode out of the room, taking what felt like all the air with him.

I blew out a breath, and my knees gave way. I collapsed to the hearth, feeling faint.

Adefina moved back to her breakfast preparation, giving me a few moments to compose myself before she finally said, “Well? You heard His Lordship. Where would you prefer to do your service—here or in his bed?”

“He didn’t really mean that,” I protested. I thought I sounded sure enough—until I squeaked out, “Did he?”

Adefina snorted. “Oh, I believe he most certainly did.”

It wasn’t like I hadn’t considered running—I’d thought of little else since I had arrived. But it was that threat of being forced into the Duke’s bed that finally spurred me into action in a way nothing else had.

That was when I began trying to find a way out of this cruel alien’s domain. When I began quizzing Adefina about where Ivrael kept his spaceship.

When I began seriously plotting my escape.

T his morning, almost a year after the duke threatened to take me to his bed, I wait until the fire is roaring and I’m warmer before I take the ash bucket out to empty it. Then I pull out a perfectly blackened piece of charcoal and slide my hand around to the side of the fireplace, where I tuck the coal into the tiny alcove created by the bricks, hiding it for later.

I pull on the worn cloak and scratchy woolen gloves Adefina scrounged up for me when I arrived. Inevitably, I wish I could stay by the fireplace a little longer, but I never can. I have work to do.

With a final longing glance at the hearth, I head out to deal with the rest of my duties for the day.

The duke’s manor is like a country house—one of the British mansions in those historical movies. Or the sexy television shows where ladies wear pale dresses and sit around drinking tea while they worry about who they’re going to marry, and then have lots of sex once they’ve picked their guy.

To be fair, it seems like that’s what life is like for the Icecaix lords and ladies too. Except for the planning to marry part, of course. That doesn’t seem to be necessary. Here, they just skip to the lots of sex part.

Those movies and television shows rarely depict what it takes to keep a place like that running, how much work the servants have to do. Of course, it’s probably not quite as difficult here as it was back in the old days on Earth. After all, the Caix have magic, so those servants can often conjure up what they need. They can create globes of light, so who needs electricity, right? Especially since heat isn’t really an issue for the Ice Court Caix.

However, unlike the rest of the Ice Court, Ivrael likes his food cooked. And I like not freezing to death even more, so firewood has to be chopped and split and stacked and brought in.

Every. Single. Day.

This morning, as usual, I make my way outside and down to the shed where the firewood is kept, pausing to dump the ashes into the compost box. Fintan is out there, doing the chopping.

The Icecaix don’t do their own work—not the heavy stuff, anyway. It’s considered an honor or something to be an “upstairs servant,” like the housemaids and footmen. The rest of the positions, though, no Icecaix would accept.

The Ice Court doesn’t have much in the way of scruples or morals, so when they need servants, they often buy or kidnap them, sometimes by traveling to other planets, sometimes from the Star Court on their own planet.

That’s how Fintan got here. I figured it out for the first time when Adefina called him an off-worlder once, which let me know he’s from another planet, unlike Adefina, who’s pure Starcaix.

Fintan is tall, muscular, basically humanoid, but with horns growing out of the sides of his head like a bull and a fine down of brown fur across his body. After I got up the nerve to ask, he told me he’s from a planet the Caix sometimes trade with, and even told me the name of his home, but I could never pronounce it.

When I approach, he smiles sweetly and says, “I’ve got a new cord stacked for you, Miss Lara.”

I thank him, for two reasons. First of all, he’s a nice guy. He’s always offering to carry firewood inside for me and making sure I’m not too cold. The second reason, though, is more mercenary.

If I’m going to get out of here and save my sister before she turns eighteen and gets sold to the duke, I’m going to need allies.

I hope Fintan is willing to help me when the time comes. I already know I can’t escape through the forest, so I’ve been working on a new plan for the last couple of weeks, and it’s almost time to put it into action.

He helps me load wood into the leather sling I use to carry it, and I heft it up by the handles. When I turn to head back inside, movement catches my attention out of the corner of my eye.

Ivrael, striding across the fields behind the manor, raising his hand to call a hunting bird—some kind of bird of prey like hawks I’ve seen on Earth—back to the glove he wears. It glides gracefully through the sky and lands on his wrist. He reaches up and strokes its head, and it preens beneath his touch.

Sunlight sparkles on the snow crystals around the duke, shining on the long, muscular lines of his body. The sight sends heat swirling through me, and at that moment, he and his bird both turn their heads toward me as if they have felt my attention land on them.

For a moment, I think he and the bird are just alike. Both hunters, both sighting their prey.

Then I realize, no—in this case, I’m the bird. Preening under his hand at every tiny bit of attention even as I do his bidding.

And I swear to myself I will not be his creature, straining to do whatever it is he wants me to do.

No matter what training techniques he uses next.

Adefina pushes past me to move out the door, on her way to dump scraps in one of the animals’ feeding troughs. “Quit mooning after His Lordship.”

I know she’s teasing, but the thought of mooning after him also sends a hot spike of rage straight into my chest.

Instead of finding a way to pull out that spike, I drive it in deeper, wedge it inside me.

Let it fester , I think.

Let it sit there and rot until it becomes a pit of infection. I will lance it with the same knife I use to kill him.

When I get back to the kitchen, no one’s around. Just in case, though, I make a show of scrubbing down the hearth, then surreptitiously wipe away the charcoal marks on a small area of the wall on the side of the fireplace, hidden from everyone else in the kitchen.

I quickly use my saved scrap of charcoal to scribble the next number—changing it from day 250 to day 251. Izzy’s birthday has to be coming up soon; she was born a year and a day after I was. I’m pretty sure the days here are longer than the ones back home. And I’m not sure how long I was unconscious on that ship.

It doesn’t really matter, though, because it all amounts to the same thing .

My time is running out.

Sometimes I think about what she must have done when she realized I was missing, how she felt, alone in that scrubby little house with our stepfather. I assume Roland told everyone I ran away. But Izzy would know better.

She had to know I would never leave her. Right?

Kila flits up onto my shoulder from where she’s waiting by the fire for my return, her wings fanning my face. “Was Fintan outside?”

I glance at her out of the corner of my eye. “He was.”

“What did he have to say this morning?”

I shake my head. “He’s a sweet kid, Kila, but whatever romantic ideas you have floating around in that tiny little head of yours, you need to get rid of them.”

Kila’s laugh peals out musically, and I have an overwhelming urge to call her Tinker Bell.

Oh, if she thought ‘pixie’ was offensive… I barely manage to keep from snickering.

On the trip outside to get a second load of wood, I stop and stare at the mountains rising to the west. They remind me of the Rockies, where my family and I used to go skiing at Christmas—before my father left. Before mom married Roland, a decision I’ll never understand. Right up there with why she chose to stay with him.

Those mountains are my goal. My first goal, anyway.

When I arrived here, I assumed the Star Court must be the Ice Court’s greatest enemy. But it’s not. No, the firelords, who live in those craggy mountains to the east—they’re the Ice Court’s nemeses.

If I can get to the firelords, maybe I can convince them to help me find my way home.

I’ve been thinking about what I can offer them in exchange. I don’t have an answer to that yet, but I’ll figure out something. For now, though, I know Ivrael has a map in his library. A map that leads to the firelords’ lands. I’ve only seen it once, back before I realized how useful it could be.

Tonight, I’m going to steal it.

My plan has problems. Probably lots of them. But in all the time I’ve been here, I haven’t come up with anything better. All of my other escape attempts have led to being dragged back here and put back to work.

And sometimes worse…

No. I’m not going to think about that. And I’m not going to wrack my brains for anything else, either. Not if this plan offers even the slightest possibility of getting home and making sure Izzy remains free.

Kila insists on going with me to retrieve the map, of course, even though there’s not much I can imagine her being able to help with. When I say as much to her, she puts her fists on her tiny hips and glares at me.

“I can keep guard,” she says. “No one ever notices me.”

“If you see someone, what will you do?”

She turns her hands palm-up to emphasize the point. “Warn you, of course.”

Right. If Kila has to warn me, it’ll already be too late. Still, tonight’s the night. I’m getting out of here and saving my baby sister.

I also intend to slice open Ivrael’s throat before I leave.