Caveman Alien’s Rival (Caveman Aliens #30)

Chapter 1

- Morgan -

The last flame flickers and dies, but neither Cora nor I put any more wood on the fire. It’s midnight, and I really should go to bed.

Cora slowly gets to her feet, puts her hands at the small of her back and leans back with a grimace on her face. “Someone should invent the couch. Or at least the armchair.”

I change my position on the hard, wooden bench. “I’d settle for a beanbag. Or a cushion that’s not just filled with grass. Or why not a-”

I stop as a big shape comes up the stairs to the penthouse and stops, staring over at us.

“Yes?” Cora asks, not too friendly - we’re not super happy about the tribesmen that act as our security guards and feel it necessary to check on us every fifteen minutes. “Has it started?”

“Has what started, Healer Cora?” the caveman asks, confused.

“The birth,” she says. “Alba is about to give birth. Surely that must be why you disturb us here, warrior?” Her cavemannish is good, with just a bit of an English accent.

“No, it’s to check your safety, Healer Cora,” the caveman says, looking at me. “Have you heard or seen any irox?”

“We have not,” I tell him. “And we have not seen any other dangers.”

He puts his head back and scans the dark sky. “They rarely come these days.” Then he walks a slow round of the plateau, one hand on his sword, looking very serious.

“If you think there are rekh hiding in our food baskets, I must disappoint you,” Cora says with some ice in her voice. “There are no irox, no rekh and no kronk. Well done, warrior. You kept them away.”

If the man hears the sarcasm, he doesn’t show it. “We are worried about the Plood. There are so many of them. Perhaps they are able to climb.” He goes to the edge of the plateau and looks down, three hundred feet or so down to the treetops of the surrounding jungle. “But I can’t see any.”

Cora rolls her eyes. “Then they must not be here yet. Well, it’s been a long day, warrior, and I’m sure you want to get back to your cave.”

He takes up a broad-legged stance, one hand on the hilt of his sword, loincloth looking new, his green stripes dark against his normal skin. “I will not sleep tonight. I will keep you safe, Healer Cora and Morgan. Atnag’ox will keep you safe.” He turns so I can get a good look at him.

“It’s like the Bachelorette,” I mutter in English. “Except nobody gives me roses.”

“It’s a bit obvious,” Cora agrees. “But I’m sure they mean well.” She switches to cavemannish again. “All right, warrior. There are no threats here. Now perhaps you can go back to guarding the stairs?”

“Of course,” Atnag’ox says and walks slowly back to the stairs that lead down to the ground. “But I will be nearby. Call my name if you need me.” He sends me a long glance. “Atnag’ox is the name.”

I give him a pale smile. “Good night, warrior.”

He walks down the first steps, then stops and sends me another glance. “And to you, Morgan.” He descends out of sight.

I sigh. “That’s the fourth guard making rounds tonight. Do they draw lots?”

Cora shrugs. “Probably. Or Chief Korr’ax has told them which order they are to go in.”

“Showing me the various men of the tribe one by one. He really wants me married off.”

“He may well think you need a husband.”

I get up, too. “It’s a reasonable thing to assume.

I guess not everyone is the marrying kind.

” I wander out to the edge of the plateau and look down.

There are no fires inside the village yet.

But outside the gates there are several.

The men from other tribes are keeping vigil, both to be ready in case they are attacked by dinosaurs and in case I were to come out there, seeking company.

Not that I ever have, but it’s the only hope they can have.

Because I’m the reason they’re all here. I’m the last unmarried woman in the jungle, and all those men are hoping to be the man I marry. Of course their chances are low at the best of times - they are outtribers, and so not allowed inside the gates of the Borok village except by invitation.

I have considered telling Chief Korr’ax that the chances of me marrying a caveman are exactly zero, regardless which tribe he may come from.

But I’m not sure he’d believe me. Some of the other girls were just as reluctant, then married in no time once they got some alone time with an alien male they liked.

And of course he wants me married to reduce tensions in the tribe. Every unmarried Borok man - basically all of them except a handful - wants a wife. And as the only remaining unattached woman, it has to be me.

I know there are conflicts inside the tribe that have to do with both me and the married girls. Basically, the unmarried men are feeling like second-class citizens in their own tribe, to the point where fistfights are breaking out on a daily basis.

“That’s what I thought,” Cora muses as she gazes down on the campfires outside the gate. “That I would never get married. And then I changed my mind.”

I just nod. Korr’ax isn’t the only one who wants me to get married so that the tribe will calm down a bit. The girls also want that. The way things are, I’m a problem for everyone.

“Stop there!” comes a muffled shout from the campfires. “Intruder!”

I guess tempers are running hot there, too.

I sigh again. It was different when Riley was also single. But now she’s so in love with Nator’ax she walks around with a constant grin on her face, so I can’t really expect much sympathy from her, either. And I don’t want to dump my own problems on others.

“Stop him!” The commotion from below goes on, with more shouts and the sound of weapons clanging.

“I hope they don’t kill each other down there,” Cora mutters. “Looks like they’re chasing someone.”

“Someone should throw a bucket of ice at them,” I reply. “Or use a firehose. Cool them down.”

Cora turns away. “Mhm.”

I don’t know what to do. If that flying saucer was reliable, I might steal it and command it to take me to Earth.

But that might mean certain death. We don’t know if it will work in space anymore, and anyway we don’t know if it can even travel the several light years to Earth.

It wouldn’t be a good way to go, stranded in empty space with only the Myron the Plood for company. But I’m warming to the idea of trying.

“Anyway,” Cora says and hides a yawn behind her hand, “I’ll go and get some rest. If Alba goes into labor, they know where to find me. Good night.”

“Good night,” I reply mechanically. “I’ll go to bed soon, too.”

She skips down the stairs.

Yeah, she’s a happy camper with her alien husband. And as the tribe’s midwife, she has a status that’s just under Korr’ax and about the same as Astrid, the shaman.

Not that I care about that, but I’d love for some attention that wasn’t just about me getting married.

“Intruder! Stop!” The shouting has spread to inside the gates.

Probably one of the men from another tribe has gotten tired of waiting and vaulted over the fence.

Well, if he wants to see me, he’ll have to make his way past several layers of caveman guards, each one dead set on being the one I marry.

They’re not going to allow a rival up here.

Maybe I shouldn’t show myself at the top of the Red Rock. I don’t understand how anyone could see me from down there, but-

A sudden fear grips me. Something’s wrong. The hairs on my arms stand up and I have a strong urge to hide.

“Oh dear gold,” a smooth, deep voice says behind me.

I nearly jump out of my sandals, spinning around. Then my heart sinks in my chest and I know I’m dead.

Because what I’m seeing is all predator.

“A virgin tied to a rock. How wonderfully old-fashioned.” His voice is all frozen silk, if such a thing were possible, icy and deadly and crystal clear. Just like his eyes, silvery and golden and luminous in the dark.

He’s just as big as any caveman, dark as obsidian in the night, shot through with a network of golden lines all over him. But he’s not a caveman. He’s the opposite, and he makes me want to crouch down and cry in terror.

“I’m not tied to the rock,” I weakly rasp out the only thing that comes to my petrified mind.

There’s the noise of many furious cavemen running up the stairs.

The invader tilts his head as if to listen, then gives me a gaze that goes right through me. “Are you sure?”

He turns his back to me and calmly walks over to the edge of the plateau, the very image of confidence, taking up a casual contrapposto stance, looking out over the jungle, unspeakably beautiful from this angle, too, all muscle and control. “A perfect view. You can see every place you can’t go.”

I don’t know what to say.

There’s loud yelling and the sound of weapons clanging as the guards storm up the stairs and onto the plateau.

Then the intruder moves, faster than any man could, faster than most tigers could, just a blur of black and gold as he passes the guards and zooms down the stairs before they can even raise their swords.

But they raise their voices just fine, yelling confused orders and suggestions at each other.

Atnag’ox comes over to me, a grim look on his face. “Who was that, Morgan?”

“Didn’t you see?” I ask, both relieved and annoyed by his presence. “That was a dragon!”

“Darkness,” he growls and slashes his sword uselessly through the empty air. “We’ll get him! Go, warriors! Back down! I’ll stay and watch this plateau.”

The other cavemen frown and hesitate. “No man may stay up here except for a quick check. It’s not even your turn!”

“Yes,” I agree, wanting them all gone. “The dragon is long gone. Go! Find him, Atnag’ox. Only you can do it!”

“Yes, Morgan!” he says and runs over to the others, then back down the way they came.

My heart still beats hard and fast in my ears. Shit, that was like looking straight at death itself.

A dragon!

Not Praxigor, married and distant, uninterested in everything but his wife. This one looked at me like he was deciding what to do with me.

Below, warriors shout orders into the jungle as if they had even the slightest chance of catching him.

But I can still hear his voice in my head.

You can see every place you can’t go.

And somehow, impossibly, the worst part is that I think he might be right.

On trembling knees I move to the edge of the plateau before I can stop myself, staring into the darkness where he vanished, hoping to see him again.

And terrified that I might.