Page 221 of Scorching the Alien Empire
This is going to be even easier than I thought.
She makes a move to rise from Krogoth Cringe-Eye’s knee—because of course she’s sitting on it—but he stops her with one giant hand on her shoulder.
“No, my Pebbles,” he murmurs. His voice is deep, commanding. Each word lands like a clipped nail. “This is Dracoth.” He tilts his chin at my husband, tussling his long glossy black hair. “The one Xandor spoke of.”
His purple eyes are glowing. Hot. Unblinking. Locked on us like he’s already chosen where the bodies will fall.
He’s terrifying. Even without the memory of his swirling vortexes consuming murder-bots like popcorn.
Instinctively, I flinch. But Dracoth doesn’t. His grip steadies me—strong, silent, unshaken. The bond pulses like a war drum:
No fear.
Hulk smash.
Bitch Brick’s smile slips into concern. Her gaze dances between Krogoth and Dracoth—then to me. Her lips press tight, like Todd’s just pooped in her favorite shoes. Her eyes glow faintly.
She’s using her powers.
Mind reading, if I remember right.
Are you inside my head, Bitch Brick? Good. Because I’m going to win.
But then—something flares beside me.
A brilliant silver tube of cuteness—Todd.
“Chug Bug?” I gasp, yanking him from my shoulder and cradling him like he’s about to explode. The Klendathian rune formirrorblazes molten silver across his rubbery plumpness. “No, no, no—don’t leave me!” I clutch him tighter, shielding the light with my arms like it’s blood gushing from a wound.
But Todd?
Todd just lazily blinks his big glossy eye at the Big Chiefs, mandibles clacking softly like he’s seizing up a fresh jelly stick.
“Huh?” I prod his squishy segments. He doesn’t explode. Doesn’t even flinch. Just croaks happily and tries to curl back into a sleepy cuddle-ball. Like he’s not currently glowing like a radioactive disco ball in formalwear.
Then realization dawns on me like a surprise holiday.
Aenarael. Divine Mother.
She did this. She told me to keep Todd close—as if I ever wouldn’t. Said something cryptic about stopping thedaughter of Maracasor whatever.This must be it.Todd’s runes are blocking Bitch Brick’s powers.
How wonderful! Divine Mother does truly love me.
Across the room, Bitch Brick’s smile falters—just for a second. Like someone slapped her with a hundred eviction notices. And soon I’ll deliver them for real.
I let a little sneaky smirk crease my lip, just for her—a private message to let her know, that I know.
She leans toward Krogoth, whispering like the head gossip at intergalactic boarding school. He nods slowly, unsettling the bejeweled, feathered monstrosity of a crown he’s wearing.
Then Dracoth steps forward, voice rising like the war horns of heaven.
“I am War Chieftain Dracoth. True-born son of Gorexius.” His voice rumbles like a thunderstorm. “Vanquisher of the Voidbringer. Chosen of Arawnoth. Liberator of Clones. Savior of the Revered Mothers.”
He strides toward the obsidian thrones set at the table’s far end. Fitting. But sadly, jagged, and pointy—promising serious butt chaffing. His boots hit the stone with the weight of destiny.
“True-born son?” one of the Big Chiefs barks.
He’s sun-bleached and youthful, face hidden beneath a segmented shawl like mummy cosplay. Bright blue eyes flash beneath the hood.
