Page 11 of Caveman Alien's Terror

“I don’t have anything,” I tell him, my voice still shaking. “I don’t have any money.”

He frowns. “Money? The only payment I will accept is gold. One large nugget of gold for one delicious fruit. When can I expect it?”

Gold?“I don’t have any gold. I’ve never seen gold anywhere in the jungle.”

“No?” he snarls, eyes shooting sparks from high above me. “Then perhaps you should look for it.”

The breath catches in my throat. I don’t want him to get mad. I ache to step back from him, but I can’t. “I will. I will look for gold. What is your name?”

He’s an expert frowner. “You don’t know? Surely my name is known to all the primitives in these desolate woods.”

“I’m sure it is,” I try to placate him. “But I’ve only been here for a short while.”

“Praxigor!” he roars, so the name echoes from far around us. “That’s my name. Now do you know me?”

“I… I’m new to Xren,” I try again. “But I see that you must be very mighty. I am Astrid.”

“Nobody cares what other primitives call you, female. Perhaps I shall call you something else. Let’s see. Browncoat?” He reaches out and pinches the fabric of my dress. “Shorty? Curly?” One big, blue hand strokes my hair and tugs at one ear. “Lugs? Or just Crazy? Because you really shouldn’t be out here on your own, talking to me.”

The liberties he’s taking ignite a spark in me, too close to my center to accept without a fight. “How about you call me nothing at all?” I sneer. “And how about taking your hands off me?”

His hand slides down my cheek, strokes down my shoulder and the side of my chest. “Again you speak as if you wish to die here and now.”

I clench the spear and tense up. I can probably pierce his chest from here. “Do what you think you must, Bluescale.” Yep, a little bit of anger absolutely works to push away some of the strange fear he instills in me. As well as the totally unwanted arousal from having the attention of a being this outrageously powerful and male. Something primal inside me is kicking and screaming at me to just strip off, put my butt in the air, and have his babies already.

He laughs, mirthlessly and coldly. Then his eyes sparkle and his hand shoots out as fast as lightning, grabbing my throat. “I wasn’t going to do this, but no one can be disrespectful to Praxigor and expect to live.”

I gasp for air and kick and flail, but his grip is like a vise. He’s too close for me to use the spear on him. I start to see black spots, and I know I’m about to die. My fingers claw at the hidden dagger. That’s my last hope?—

There’s a terrible screech and something bright green is suddenly clinging to Praxigor’s face. He lets go of my throat to fight the attacker.

I grab my spear with both hands and push the tip a quarter inch into the alien’s blue throat, not being too gentle.

Praxigor is finally able to rip Luna off his face. Still screeching and sprattling, she hangs from his hand while he curls the other up into a fist.

“Let her go, or I will fucking kill you!” I wheeze, pushing on the spear for emphasis.

Praxigor looks at me with his sparkling eyes, amused surprise on his face. “You must be joking!”

“Let her go!” I demand.

He chuckles and drops the stevik to the ground. “Oh,thiswill be hard for you to get out of, Crazy. You can’t actually kill me with that.”

He may be right. I can either ram the spear further into his throat and see if he’s right, or let him go and hope he won’t killme. The first option is probably the right one. But I don’t have it in me to just execute someone. And if it doesn’t work, a line has been crossed that can’t be uncrossed.

“It was a fair fight,” I tell him, so tense I’m shaking. “You didn’t lose, Praxigor. It’s a draw. Let’s be friends from now on.”

His eyes go narrow. “Friends? You wish to befriendswith a dragon? Do you knownothing?”

With some mental effort, I meet his gaze. “Everyone needs friends on this planet.”

He sighs. “Dragons don’t have friends, Curly. Servants, yes. Lackeys, yes. Slaves, sometimes. Collaborators, rarely. Lovers, very briefly. Enemies and rivals and nemeses, many and always.”

“Then you’ll be the first,” I croak as the fear rises in me. “All the other dragons will be confused and envious.”

He chuckles. “Youarecrazy, as I thought. But you’re an entertaining form of crazy. Very well, little woman. We are now friends.”

I take the spear off his throat, but I keep it pointing at him. “Thank you.”

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