Silence hung thickly between them for a few moments following Remiel’s declaration.

How epic. Always nice when you could find the right words to inflict the maximum amount of devastation.

And Remiel would wreak a path of destruction if he had to. Because Samael had forgotten one crucial fact. He wasn’t the only one with a claim to the throne.

The prophecy claimed Gold would return and lead the dragons. It didn’t name which one.

I’m Gold. And Remiel was older by like five months. Not to mention, he was pure-blooded.

Technically speaking, I am king.

“You are not the one foretold. I am.” The rebuttal sounded childish, and Remiel snorted.

“You are nothing but a disillusioned, spoiled brat who’s been letting a power-hungry priestess lead him by his dick.”

“I am the one in control.”

“Not according to the handcuffs and whips.” He’d rather not explain how he knew about his brother’s sexual peccadillos.

“I think someone is jealous because she chose me and not you.” Smugness suited Samael, but Remiel still wiped it from his face.

“Only because I turned Anastasia down first. And as to you thinking you have any say in what happens, I dare you to try. Go against one of her wishes. See what happens when you don’t behave like the good little pet dragon that you are.”

“I’m not a pet.” The high color in his brother’s face spoke of his anger—but worse, Remiel could see the embarrassment. Did Samael realize how Anastasia played him?

In the name of so-called religion, that woman had manipulated all kinds of things, wreaked tons of havoc. She was to blame for a lot of what had happened to him. When Remiel escaped—an escape counted in the ticks of seconds—he’d deal with her.

“Being a benevolent king, I won’t kill you. You are, after all, my only true family, but I am hereby banning you from this continent. Begone and never show your face again.” Remiel waved a hand and winked at Sue-Ellen, who gaped at him wide-eyed. Probably because his confidence awed her.

Samael did a good job of pretending to not be impressed. “Good luck with your claim on the throne. You know there’s no way out of that pit.”

“Didn’t you pay attention to our history lessons, brother? All hoards have two entrances.” A known fact. The main one for bringing in the big shit, and a small one in case subtlety is needed.

A smirk pulled his twin’s lips. “Parker had that thing sealed off a while ago. Which means there is only one way out, and we both know how well that went the last time.”

The last time, Remiel had been half mad with rage, not understanding where the anger and sense of loss came from. He’d climbed the walls of the pit and grabbed at the light streams caging the rim.

Not a good idea.

When he next woke, his hands were bandaged, along with his ribs, while the wrath and whatever had triggered it were gone. He’d spent a few euphoric days imagining butterflies and happy things as the incense burning non-stop from a brazier set up in the room sweetly permeated the air.

The hangover headache was totally worth it, but the munchies had seriously depleted his candy reserve.

Remiel crossed his arms and cocked his head. “Is that a challenge? I totally accept.”

“You’ll totally fail,” hissed his sibling.

“Get your bags packed and prepare to vacate the premises, brother, because I’m getting out of here.”

The hologram gave him the finger. “Like fuck you are. But if it makes you feel any better, Sue-Ellen is. Because you’re right about one thing. It’s time I showed Anastasia that she doesn’t make all the decisions. Starting with the choice she’s been forbidding me forever.”

With those cryptic words, the image disappeared. Since his brother no longer flapped his gums, Remiel could hear a slight hissing sound like escaped gas. He sniffed, and his eyes widened.

Gas emerged from the hologram device, gas mixed with something else.

Magic.

Shit. “Move.” The word emerged as barely a hiss as the drug, a new combination, hit Remiel hard. Hard enough that when he blinked awake, face-first in the dirt, he had a few new holes in his arm. It seemed he’d donated some blood, but that wasn’t the worst of it.

Someone had taken his angel.

That was when, as Sue-Ellen would say, he lost his ever-loving shit.