Page 57 of Escaping my Dragon

“Native, and yet we’re the ones who have to hide,” grumbled Abaddon.

“You said you came here to stop whatever that thing is. How exactly do you plan to do that?” Left unsaid: You’re kind of fucking small to be fighting it.

Alistair’s lips once more pinched. “Now that it’s freed from its prison, I wonder if it would be open to conversation.”

If you want to talk, bring my servant. If you want to live, bring the other humans. I’m hungry.

We all blinked. Dragons included.

Alistair looked especially discomfited. “I was not aware you could hear us.”

Obviously. The dry reply. Now hurry up. I am literally starving.

The dragons eyed my friends in a way that had me waving my arms.

“Hold on a second. No one is getting eaten. You hear me?” I shouted in its direction. “You can’t have my friends.”

And who will stop me?

I pursed my lips. “The military, for one.”

They’ve not yet decided what to do about me. Apparently, I pose a perplexing problem for world leaders.

“Is that why no missiles have been fired?” snapped Noah.

There is concern I might feed off them. There has been some mention of Godzilla and nuclear radiation. A valid concern.

“You eat nukes?” I exclaimed.

Everything is energy. But the fleshy kind is the tastiest.

The beast had revealed something interesting. The governments were figuring out how to attack. Meaning, we had to stall, somehow. Give them a chance to muster a plan.

Alistair cleared his throat. “It occurs to me we haven’t been formally introduced. I am currently known as Alistair Graham.”

A paltry title.

“I am Abaddon.” The ebony thumped his chest. “A mighty name for a warrior.”

Warrior? No mistaking the snicker which led to Abaddon sulking.

“What is your name, sire?” the dainty Persephone asked.

If I were to say it, the fleshy ones would die, blood streaming from every orifice. But if you insist⁠—

“No!” Alistair yelled.

Perhaps another day. In the meantime, I need a name. While The Destroyer does have a certain appeal, I rather prefer the one given to me by the American government: Leviathan.

“The mightiest of creatures,” I murmured.

Exactly.

“Who deserves recognition,” I said slowly as an idea formed. A bad one but, right now, there didn’t seem to be many good options. “What would you say to giving us an exclusive interview to broadcast to the world?”

“What?” Too many voices said it at once for me to differentiate.

An interview? The query was both curious and amused.