Page 70 of Caveman Alien's Terror

Tarat’ex saunters over. “The Krast tribe? They’re not good for much. And I should know. Now, Astrid, how can it be that you didn’t kill the dragon, like you said you would? Because it means you are still Darkness and you will still be ours. Not as honored as if you had in fact killed Praxigor, perhaps. But still ours. In every way.” His hand shoots out and strokes along my chest.

I swipe at him with the knife, but he’s prepared and pulls out of range. “Someone grab her and hold her!”

At the same moment, Luna pounces on him and claws furiously at his face, hissing wildly.

Tarat’ex screams and tries to protect his face, but this isn’t Luna’s first rodeo and she stays put, clawing and scratching.

The other Ceremat men don’t obey his order. Instead they look around in confusion. The thunder seems to be approaching very fast, getting louder in a way that no regular thunderstorm has a right to.

A blue streak shoots past right overhead, screaming like a jet fighter and making the ground tremble.

The Ceremat men throw themselves to the ground, and Luna casually jumps off Tarat’ex and comes over to me.

I stay up, leaning into the sudden hurricane from the flying projectile’s wake.

Praxigor turns in the air and comes back, beating his wings majestically as he lands on all four feet in the middle of the Ceremat men, all still on the ground.

One claw reaches out and touches Tarat’ex on the chest, right under the throat.

You laid a hand on my love.

The voice resonates inside my head without first going through my ears. It’s the most unsettling thing. Or it would be, if it hadn’t been such a familiar voice.

The Ceremat men scramble to get away, some dropping their swords.

“I didn’t…” Tarat’ex stutters, waving his arms uselessly against the dirt. His face is bleeding from many cuts of Luna’s claws.

The dragon shifts his attention to me, eyes yellow and crystal clear.Are you all right, my love?

I look down my front, seeing no new holes in my dress. “I think so.”

We shall soon leave this pitiful collection of hovels. But I have some business with my outcast lackeys.His unspeakably beautiful dragon head shines in the sun as he looks down on Tarat’ex.Astrid said that if it is as she thinks, I shall not kill anyone. Not even you, she said. Do you know what she meant? She meant that if I love her, I will do as she asks. And I do love her. But I also really want you to be dead. Do you see how this puts me in a difficult position?

“I… I helped you!” Tarat’ex tries. “I helped you get gold! You have it now!”

The dragons chuckles inside my head, and it makes me wince because there’s so much menace in it.You are not wrong. Without you, I might never have had the gold I needed. And yet I want you dead. But I can’t kill you.

“Stand aside, dragon.” A big shape passes between us, and then Rater’ax’s sword is buried in Tarat’ex’s chest.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for some time,” the faithful Borok man says before he pulls his sword back out of the dead man. “Anyone may kill an outcast.”

Indeed,Praxigor says into my mind.While I hesitate to support the actions of a slayer, I find this act praiseworthy. Well done, slayer. You solved this conundrum with admirable efficiency. Astrid, I think it’s time for us to go.

I walk over to him, trying to not look at the dead man who’s bleeding out. “Go where?”

Wherever you decide, my love.

So, having a magnificent mythical superpowered alien dragon that you can’t see yourself living without call you ‘my love’ right into your mind in a way that you just know it’s true? Kind of nice.

And yet, I’m no longer the pushover I used to be. “Are you back? Or will you leave me again?”

The big eyes glitter.I’m done leaving. Now it’s time to stay. You and I shall be together. Always.

“But there’s no gold on Xren,” I point out.

I don’t need gold. Not anymore. I wouldn’t have neededany, if I had realized sooner what you are to me.

I can arch my eyebrows, too. “Really?”

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