Page 22 of Caveman Alien's Terror

- Astrid-

“Yes, Chief,” the green-striped caveman says. “‘We’re ready.”

He and the two others keep ogling me, even after I pull my dress back up to cover my chest. They must have been spying on us, but it seems that Praxigor knows them. It’s weird — they’re obviously outcasts, and I think the one he’s talking to is Tarat’ex, the one who was cast out from the Krast tribe for trying to kill Alba. These guys can’t be trusted, and I wish I didn’t have to deal with them. But here they are.

I look around for my spear, then remember that it went with the kronk when it fled, so all I have now is the knife in my belt. Luna is nowhere to be seen, wisely staying away from Praxigor.

I arrange my clothing as well as I can.

Shit.What is it that happens to me when Praxigor’s around? I lose all inhibitions and practically throw myself at him. Is it just the feeling of being safe, and wanting him to stay at any cost?It’s part of it, I’m sure. But it’s also what I want. Iwantedthis moment of intimacy with him to keep going for longer.

It feels like a dream, one of those wonderful ones where everything feels so right that you want to cry when you wake up from it. After years of having almost no influence over my own life, it made me feel powerful to give Praxigor that kind of pleasure, to take all his attention and focus. As if some of his otherworldly power would rub off on me, that the dream might go on. He’s so much larger than life, and he makes the deadly jungle fade into unimportance. Having even the tiniest bit of power over that makes me strong, too. Just the two of us, both superior beings?—

Praxigor’s hard stare shakes me out of my weird reverie. “Come along, female.”

And then he has this side of him, too: the absolute jerk.

“Do you remember my name?” I ask sweetly, not budging.

“Crazy,” he drawls. “Curly. Horny.Female. Come now.” There’s an impatient snap in that last command.

“Have a nice walk,” I tell him, heart racing because I know I’m playing with fire. Dragonfire, even. Damn,canhe breathe fire?

Praxigor frowns, and his clawed fingers flex. He’s clearly deciding exactly how to best murder me.

I’m about to give in and slink after him when he suddenly chuckles. “You enjoy the dangerous life,Astrid. Did I get that right? Astrid? NotAstrideorAstraorAsterisk?”

“You got it,” I confirm, weirdly touched that he remembers. I like the way my name sounds when spoken with his clear, deep voice. It’s such an honor— no, seriously, I have to snap out of myfascination. He’s just an alien, not a supernatural being. “Where are we going? It’s getting dark.”

“Simply follow me without attempting to interrogate,” Praxigor growls. “I’ve been far too lenient with you. You should hope that it continues.”

I don’t really have much choice. I’m unarmed now, and I can’t stand the thought of being alone in the jungle at night. I’ll stay inside his bubble of safety while it lasts, and enjoy his fairy tale presence that makes me feel like it’s all a fabulous dream. Reality will give me a brutal awakening at some point, the way it always will on planet Xren.

Praxigor takes the lead, sauntering through the jungle as if he owns it.

I stay right behind him, and the three outcasts bring up the rear. I swear I can feel their lecherous gazes on my body. My skin creeps at having them this close. Gangs of outcasts are among the most dangerous things you can encounter in the woods, and I already know that Tarat’ex is a really sneaky guy.

Nobody cares much about making noise while we walk. The outcasts mutter together in their language, but I don’t catch more than the occasional word.

Praxigor doesn’t make much noise anyway, seeming to float above the ground as he strides on so fast that I keep having to scramble to not lose him in the greenery. He's keeping his hands busy while he walks, carving on a piece of rock with one of his sharp claws.

Once in a while I catch a glimpse of Luna’s three bright eyes in the undergrowth, keeping up with us and staying hidden fifteen feet to my right. I’m not sure why — she’s supposed to be a wildanimal that it’s not possible to tame completely, and it’s not like she stands to gain a lot from staying with me. But I’m grateful that she does. It makes me feel less alone.

It’s well over midnight when Praxigor leans up against a tree and crosses his arms on his chest. “I can tell from the stench that we’re close.”

“This is the spot, Chief,” Tarat’ex says with an ingratiating smile that’s the fakest thing I’ve ever seen.

“And now we have bait,” the dragon says smoothly.

“Uh… we do?” the outcast asks uncertainly.

Praxigor nods towards me. “We do.”

“Oh! Yes, of course, Chief! We should tie her to this tree here.”

“Now, woman—,” Praxigor begins, then gives me a dangerous little smile. “I mean Astrid. Astrid the woman. Come and stand here.” He points to the trunk of a slender tree, little more than a sapling.

“Why?” I ask, my hand seeking the hilt of my knife.

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