“Presumably the easy way,” I respond.
His grin, because that’s what it is, widens with even more fangs on display.
“Depends what you consider to be easy.” His tail lashes behind him.
“I’d ride you, but I absolutely do not ever want to be carried the way you brought me here, ever again.”
Dalox sways slightly on the spot, his eyes slightly glazing over.
“You would ride me?”
“If you were a dragon,” I clarify, in case he has the wrong idea. And at least I’m now wearing something which won’t suddenly flap off into the darkness leaving me entirely nude.
Although the weird silvery jumpsuit Lydia gave me is far from flattering, it’s certainly safer.
“In my Sarkarnii form?” His words are somehow half a growl and half a sigh.
I wonder if that’s something which is forbidden, but as I’m not a Sarkarnii and I didn’t ask to be here, I nod my head.
“Yes.”
Dalox sucks in a breath and then releases it slowly with a long stream of smoke.
“You can choose,” he says finally. “The Sarkarnii way or the other way.” He holds up a finger, one dark onyx claw extended. “Providing you do one thing for me.”
Now I’ve done it. Completely backed myself into a corner. But also, I’m intrigued. If I ride him, this time it will be my decision and something I’m in control of. Even if there is a bit of quid pro quo.
“What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to dine with me,” he says. “I know the nova-minute we reach the surface, you will want to be with the other females, and…” Dalox grits his teeth. “I will not stop you being with the one called Lydia, but I wish you to dine with me, and to allow me to show you what being a Sarkarnii warlord really means.”
Yet more intriguing prospects. I can’t see how this would be problematic.
“Okay. I’ll dine with you.”
“And your method of exiting my lair?”
I put my finger on my chin and look Dalox up and down. He twitches again, which is interesting to see in something as tall and broad as he.
“I choose Sarkarnii.”
Dalox rumbles deep in his chest and I wonder if I’ve chosen correctly.
“Then it is time to go, little spark,” he says, tipping me into his arms.
“Hey!”
“And how exactly do you think we should do this?” he admonishes me as he strides to the entrance into the dark cave system.
“Icanwalk.”
“And I prefer to carry you. Your legs are too short,” Dalox grumbles.
“It’s all of twenty paces.”
“You’ll still be too slow,” he says, but I see the hitch in his mouth and the flash of his fang.
Dalox is enjoying this, and my stomach does a strange squirm which I’m not used to.
