Page 231 of Scorching the Alien Empire
“We are born of war. Within every Klendathian heart surges Arawnoth’s molten fury. He gave you the Rush spilling fromyour eyes. You feel it now, as I do too. Claws itching for release. That fire in your chest. The thrill of battle. A brutal contest with worthy foes. The warmth of their blood oozing between fingers.”
My fingers close around the Hemo-Tok at my hip. They jingle, singing pleasantly—my brothers of bone.
“That’s it, my Red Dragon,” Princesa purrs, voice husky with heat as her body melts against mine like molten lava. “Show them who you are.”
Krogoth stands wreathed in fury—power radiating off him in trembling waves.
A manic, sardonic laugh bursts from my flaming lungs. “Look at you! A titan of war. A demi-God. Ifeelyour strength. You want to break me. To rip me apart, a thousand pieces scattered at your feet.”
I stalk toward him, letting my Rush flare bright, each step a pounding war drum, inviting battle.
“Arawnoth whispers in your ear,” I growl. “Hedemandssacrifice. A contest of muscle, sinew, and soul. To deny this... is to denyyourself.”
I tower over him. The only one worthy of facing me at my peak. No half-measures. No holds barred.
“Oh, isn’t this a historic marvel?” the Imperator croons from above, eyes glittering with delight. “Why not settle this matter in a glorious cultural showcase? A trial of champions!”
“No,” Rocks pleads, clinging to Krogoth’s arm. “Please... not again, my Mortakin-Kai.” Her voice trembles. “I can’t bear to lose you. Not like that. Not after everything we’ve built together.”
Krogoth stands frozen, fury burning through every line of his body. His jet-black hair cascades down his back like a battle-banner—a testament to his prowess. His eyes, blazing violet suns, never leave mine. But heresists. He stands at the edge and doesn’t leap.
So I push him.
“You shamed me once, Krogoth. A victory claimed, but not earned.” I reach up andslapthe horned crown from his head. It clatters across the floor, snapping its gilded horns against the stone.
“Face me—the Shorthair Chieftain. As you faced my father. In honorable combat.Earnthat ridiculous crown.”
Krogoth cranks his head back, fangs fully bared, every breath a storm barely contained.
Yes. That’s it.
“Hasn’t there been enough blood spilled?” Chieftain Borrthak, the old fool cries out, his voice heavy with grief. He shuffles forward, scooping the broken, garish crown as if it were a dying child. “Haven’t we had our fill of misery and death? Must we buryeverytradition beneath the bones of our brothers?”
Krogoth closes his eyes. Inhales deeply.
“No,” he says at last, voice rough with restraint. “Borrthak... Rocks... they speak the truth.” he sighs, eyes dimming, shoulders loosening. The moment, his fury slipping away.
“We are not monsters,” he says, stepping past me, leaving another kind of defeat blooming in my chest. Cold. Hollow. “Not anymore.”
“Coward,” I call after him, my voice molten and desperate.
Princesa steps forward with a calm grace, stroking Todd’s glowing plumpness.
“Well, sinceKrogoth Cringe-Eyesis too scared and weak to fight my husband...” Her voice is mock-sweet, eyes mercury pools. “Why not something more civilized?”
She gestures to the other Chieftains. “A Big Chief vote. Democracy. The good ol’ Earth way. Since Krogoth’stotallynot a dictator.”
Her smile widens. “A tie, Krogoth wins. Our majority,wewin.”
She shrugs, glaring silver daggers at Rocks. “Can’t say fairer than that, right?”
Rocks smiles back—polite, practiced, but doesn’t touch her glistening eyes. “What a wonderful idea,” she says sweetly, a hint of a smirk passing between the two females, despite the murderous tension crackling in the air.
“Very well,” the Imperator claps, the sound sharp, final. “Tomorrow, I’ll have my answer.” He shoots me a knowing look. An Elerium promise of retribution—or glory.
“And by the twin suns,” he says. “I’ll have my vengeance.”
Chapter 43
