That dinner-plate-sized eye narrows on me.
This bastard thinks he can play with his prey? Can lick my blood and enjoy torturing me slowly as I die?
I don’t think so.
He leans down again, and this time, I punch him in the snout.
His eye widens, and he rears back. I use the opportunity to turn onto my hands and knees, attempting to crawl along the hard rock.
Within a moment, the dragon is in front of me. He’s so huge that he only had to swivel his head around to stare down at me.
He wants to savor his kill? I’ll piss him off enough that he ends me quick. Sometimes you gotta take your wins where you find them.
He leans down again, and I bare my teeth at him.
He simply opens his mouth slightly to display his own.
Oh God. His teeth. They’re packed into that lethal mouth like sharp knives in a drawer.
He leans closer again, likely believing that showing me those sharp white teeth is enough to make me fall in line with his plan to eat me in small bites.
This time, I aim for his eye.
He slams it closed in time, but my fist hits the flesh of his eyelid. It’s thick and strong, but it must still be sensitive because the dragon leans back his head and roars.
His eyes are enraged when he looks down at me again.
“He’s trying to heal you,” a voice says, and the dragon turns his head, the movement allowing me to see a woman. She has long white hair, and her skin is a light purple. I glance back at the predator in front of me, more interested in keeping him in my line of sight.
“He’s licking at my blood. What is it, an appetizer for him?”
The woman laughs softly, her voice sounding closer. The dragon tilts his head at her, once again showing off his teeth. Or is it her teeth? No. The woman just called the beast “him.”
“If he wanted to eat you, you’d already be in his belly,” she says. “Believe me when I say that he’s trying to help you heal.”
“Why would he do that?”
“He does as he pleases.”
I can practically feel the shrug in her voice even as I keep my eyes on the dragon, who is looking more pissed off by the second. He doesn’t like us talking, I realize.
“This doesn’t exactly seem hygienic.”
“Dragon saliva has incredible healing properties. I suggest you allow him to tend to your wound.”
“I don’t think I can.”
To lie here like prey and allow this creature to lick at my blood? That’s too much to ask.
I return my gaze to the woman, and the smell of smoke fills my nostrils as the dragon shifts.
“Look,” I say, attempting to make them see reason. “I’m feeling much better.”
I am, I realize. I no longer want to curl into a ball and vomit repeatedly, and my vision isn’t blurred. Best of all, the world isn’t swimming around me. My head still pounds, the headache relentless, but if I can get away from here, I might actually have a chance of living.
She raises her eyebrow, and I narrow my eyes at her.
“I’m grateful for whatever has happened here, but I need to get back to the other women I was with.”
What if they’ve found a way off this godforsaken planet? What if they leave without me?
It’s that thought that makes me attempt to rise once more, and the dragon makes it clear that this displeases him, shoving his huge face so close to mine that my fist itches to punch him again.
“Dragix does as he pleases,” the woman says again over my shoulder, and I can hear her footsteps fade as she walks away.
Dragix
The two-leg is not pleased. She glances after Maez, her eyes widening as if she has been betrayed.
“Obviously the sisterhood doesn’t exist on this planet,” she mutters.
She returns her attention to me. “If you can understand me, blink once.”
I am…entertained. I blink, and her eyes widen further.
They’re a deep blue. So blue that they remind me of the Colossal Water when the sun hits it in the morning. The color soothes me, dampening the endless rage that beats within my body like a drum.
“Okay,” the female says. “My name is Charlie. Well, it’s really Charlotte, but my friends call me Charlie. You can call me that too, if you promise not to eat me.”
Char-lee. I have never heard such a name. I cannot speak to her, and for a moment, I mourn this. I blink at her instead, and she gives me a trembling smile. I can still smell her terror, but she is attempting to dampen it. Brave creature.
“Look,” she says. “I appreciate the healing.” Her lips twists, and she stares at my mouth as if slightly revolted. “But I don’t need that anymore. So if you could keep your healing powers to yourself, that would be much appreciated.”
I snort, and she flinches as a curl of smoke escapes my nostril. Her eyes widen, the air thick with her fear.
She is still in pain. Even if I couldn’t smell it, lingering below her terror, I could see it in the way her eyes close and she flinches each time I move my head and the sun hits her eyes.
I didn’t go through all the trouble of snatching up this female only to have her die before I can understand why I am so intrigued by her. I did not finally find an escape from the endless boredom and rage only for her weak two-leg body to fail.
I lean down, attempting to ignore the scent of her dread. Usually, the smell of fear is heady, an appetizer before I eat my prey. Her fear is different. It makes me want to roar, to burn whoever made her bleed.
I freeze. Two-legs are fragile; however, they do not bleed with no reason. For the first time, my inability
