“I’ll ignore that because you know my feelings on the matter,” I respond. “What I mean is turning into a dragon and carrying me into the air without my permission.”
Dalox leans into me.
“When you can stop me, you can tell me what to do.”
I swipe out with my leg at his, hoping his anatomy is similar-ish to a human’s. Turns out it is, and Dalox goes crashing to the floor as I take a step away from him, raising my cup to keep it out of the way of his thrashing tail.
“You were saying?” I look down at him.
With a grace and a litheness which belies his enormous bulk, Dalox flips himself upright and stands, chest heaving.
I don’t think he quite knows what to do with himself. I don’t move, already waiting for his next one. I doubt very much alien dragon men fight in the same way as humans, but it would seem they fall to the ground just as hard.
Dalox fires out a lung’s worth of smoke, along with a few cinders. How they don’t set themselves on fire on a regular basis, I guess I’ll find out if I get stuck here long enough.
“Best of three?” I suggest.
He makes a low, rumbling sound in his chest. It’s not laughter, but I don’t think it puts me in danger.
“Best of three.” He lifts a lip to reveal a sharp fang. “Although you won’t get the same opportunity?—”
He goes down once more to the floor as I take out his other leg, then sip on my hot drink and watch as he attempts to work out what just happened.
“I was going to suggest it would be fairer if I had a weapon, but it would seem you’d be the one benefiting.” I finish my drink, put the cup back in the dispenser, and hold out my hand to him.
There’s clearly a war going on within Dalox. His lips raise to show his fangs once more, his eyes flicking to my hand and then to me. He can’t quite believe what’s happened.
“I get this a lot,” I add. “I’mjust a woman…so why are you on your back?”
Dalox releases yet more smoke, then he takes my hand and lets me help him to his feet, although I don’t think I do that much helping.
He doesn’t let go of my hand, and I find myself jerked against him, slamming into the wall of muscle and scales.
He’s warm to the touch, which is sort of not what I was expecting, and close up (my face smooshed into his chest), the scales are tiny iridescent things which have a strange and decidedly unearthly quality to them.
“I do not want to risk injuring you, little female,” Dalox rumbles. “You were in the healing pod a long time.”
My mind goes wild.
“Healing pod? Was that the egg-shaped thing?”
“You are wearing the coverings from the pod.” He nods at the blanket I have, still tightly wrapped, around myself. “You were injured.”
“I was?”
“From your time in the pit. For a while, I was worried you had been stung by thedalxci, but the machine advised it was an issue with your head.”
My hand goes to the back of my head, where there is a tender patch but nothing more.
“I don’t…remember much,” I say quietly.
“We were on the planetoid to retrieve my fellow warlord’s warriors, which he carelessly allowed to be taken by our enemy, the Ulep. And I found you,” Dalox growls. “In the pit,” he adds, unnecessarily.
“I remember the pit, but not…” I shake my head as if that might help. It doesn’t. “Just the egg thing. The healing pod?” I look up at him.
He dips his head, his chin on his chest as his burning eyes study me.
“So, I wasn’t a snack?”
