Yes, his damned grandmother.

Of all the ill timing. Ignoring her tempted, but he knew better than to deny her presence.

Grandmother never spared the rod—on man or child. Respect for the matriarch was always maintained.

“Computer, allow sky access to our guest.”

“Please verify the command.” Because Tomas had never issued the command before.

“Yeah, it’s me commanding.” Stupid security features. Tomas slapped his palm onto the access panel screen embedded in the breakfast bar countertop. High overhead, the rooftop egress slid open, and a moment later, in swooped a dragon. A rather majestic dragon in light purple tones with hints of gray. Grandmother was getting on in her years.

She also never came to visit. As she grew older, she preferred to remain close to home, near her hoard. Grandmother had quite the collection. She collected the standard riches—gold, jewelry, paintings—but she also had a strange obsession with collectible figurines. She had hundreds of them. All in perfect condition. Their porcelain painted eyes always watching.

As a young boy, Tomas was convinced they were moving. He blamed them for some incidences in the house he’d been raised in. The spilled plant, and the broken-off leg of a dancing gentleman beside it meant Tomas lost dessert privileges for a week.

The shepherd girl that disappeared with the soldier, never to be seen again? Tomas got blamed for that, too, even though he was sure they’d eloped. Who else would be sending postcards from around the world claiming, “Having fun. Wish you were here.”

But at least grandmother’s hoard obsession could be smashed with a hammer if needed. Grandfather’s involved dark arcana books from a time when there were wizards and sorceresses. None had been seen now in centuries, their births rare to start with, and once the dragons chose to eliminate them for aligning with humans in the war, they went extinct.

Dark magic should be destroyed, but instead, Grandfather held it all in one well-hidden bunker.

Tomas had no idea where it was, but remembered seeing it as a child, his grandfather blindfolding him and putting a headset on that muffled all outside sound.

But he didn’t need to see to feel the itch of power when his grandfather brought him into the place where he kept his hoard.

It made a dragon want to control the world.

Running the world, though, required a lot of paperwork and dealing with people. Tomas resisted the urge to rampage and become supreme ruler. But even over twenty years later, the feeling still crept up on him. Imagine now, if the wrong person were to find the hoard.

What fun they’d have.

Less fun was dealing with Grandmother. He eyed her with suspicion as she alit and transformed, her frame still as tall as ever, her features just as sharp. The massive size of her dragon compressed into that of a woman with a Rubenesque shape.

“She’s naked,” Chandra squeaked and hid her face.

“Of course she is. We rarely carry around clothes. It’s undignified.” Dragons did not put as much stock in nudity as humans did. They also didn’t transform often, not of late. With the advent of satellites watching and, more recently still, the rise in the use of drones, discovery became more and more likely.

Parker might have aligned with the Reds to announce it, but it was bound to come out eventually. The world was too connected with video everywhere to keep the secret. Because there was no way dragons could completely stop flying. They needed the skies, the wide space, the feeling of lightness that came with transformation.

Speaking of drones, one emerged from a cubby in the wall, the computer having been programmed to offer robes to guests.

As his grandmother slipped it on, he hit the kitchen to fetch the coffee that would already be brewing. Just because Tomas didn’t get visitors didn’t mean he’d not planned for them. His computer was programmed to have things work seamlessly. An invisible servant.

“This is unexpected,” he said as he placed the carafe of coffee onto the tray with some cups. He didn’t add sugar or cream. Only savages ruined perfectly good beans. “You should have called first.”

“I did. You didn’t call back.”

“I would have. Eventually.” Not. Tomas had yet to hug his grandmother. He wouldn’t because hugging would show he’d missed her. Which meant he cared.

He couldn’t care.

Look at her. She was getting old. She maybe only had another fifty to sixty years left.

Better to stay detached now.

“Are you sassing your matriarch, boy?” The arch of the brow. Oh, how he knew that arch. The pressed lips, too.

He almost smiled. How I’ve missed it.

He pressed his lips. Don’t let her know I’m happy to see her.

“To what do I owe this intrusion?”

“This social call is to ensure your well-being. Word in the Sept was you’d been taken from your last job.”

“And you just now came looking?”

“We looked. We just couldn’t find you. Do you know how many resources I’ve expended looking for your ungrateful carcass? And then I find you here. Safe. Unharmed. I should kill you for that.”

Tomas heard the undertone—I’m glad you’re not dead because otherwise I would have avenged you.

The crazy part was, if anybody ever hurt his grandmother, he’d do the same thing.

“I didn’t need any help. I just went away for a bit of rest and relaxation.”

“You’re not going to tell her about Parker kidnapping you and performing experiments?”

Two sets of eyes swung Chandra’s way. Did the doctor realize what she’d just done?

His grandmother’s voice emerged deceptively quiet. “That dog did what to my grandson?”

Given he knew what that tone meant, Tomas hastened to regain the upper hand. “Nothing you need to worry about. I will take care of Parker.”

That served only to completely set his grandmother off. “Did that shifter mongrel dare to kidnap a male of the Mauve Sept? I will shred the flesh from his frame. Boil the marrow in his bones, and drink it. Then I shall—”

“You will do nothing,” he shouted, “because it’s not your problem.”

“Your family will avenge you,” Grandmother vowed.

“I have no family.” He shook his head and tried, not for the first time, to ignore the hurt in his grandmother’s eyes. He’d made his choice to live apart a long time ago, back when everyone thought to use him as some kind of bargaining chip in the marriage market.

He knew it hurt the woman in front of him, the woman who’d raised Tomas after his parents died. His mother, her beloved daughter. Tomas was all his grandparents had left, and yet, it was best they stay apart. If he let himself care, then she, too, might die.

His grandmother’s voice boomed, the truth of it ringing loudly enough to shake his mountain. “You are a son of the Amethyst family and will always be welcome in the Mauve Sept. You are not alone, even if you are a stubborn ass.”

He wouldn’t let the oft-repeated words sneak past his shields. “You only want me so you can have the prestige of marrying me off in order to further the Sept’s power base.”

“Perhaps that was my goal once. That was before. I’ve had time to reflect on that decision.”

“You have?” He turned a dubious gaze on his grandmother. “Are you going to tell me you don’t want me to make babies for the Sept?”

“My desires have never changed. I want to see you continue our line, although I would have preferred you make dragon babies rather than wyvern, but with the Golds returning, you do whatever makes you happy.”

A few things struck him as wrong. First, what was this about a Gold returning? And why did she think he was making babies with Chandra? Yes, he lusted after her, but he would most certainly not get her pregnant. There were things to prevent that. “What are you talking about? There are no babies happening. Now, or ever.”

“Don’t lie to me, boy. Your scent is all over the human, and she is in your aerie. You have obviously chosen.”

Chandra interjected. “Oh, I’m not here permanently. Tomas and I were just discussing me leaving.”

“You’re not leaving.” He couldn’t stop the words, and almost winced because he knew his grandmother had noticed. Chandra certainly did.

“Oh, yes, I am leaving. You can’t keep me prisoner.”

“Not according to the four posts of my bed.” He didn’t have any true manacles, but a tie would work just as well.

“Tomas!” More than one woman’s voice shrieked his name.

His grandmother tsked. “Really, Tomas. I understand your need to rebel, but to keep a human against her will?”

“She wants to be here. She just doesn’t know it.” It sounded lame and stalkerish, even to him. “Chandra is none of your business. I’m none of your business. So get to the point of your visit. And then you can explain what you meant when you said a Gold is returning. The Golds are extinct.” He should know. He’d been looking for them a good portion of his life. Rumor told that the last Golden hoard contained a treasure beyond compare, one that would change everything.

He’d been looking all his life and had never found it. But he knew from all the research he had done that the Golden Sept dragons did not exist.

“I don’t know how it happened, but it seems a Gold has finally returned. And you know what this means.”

Of course he did. He’d been raised to hear the gospel of the Gold, the legend and religion that basically promised a war and world domination.

A lot of dragons had flocked to the cultish religion in recent years. With the skies increasingly dangerous to fly, the dragon ranks were restless. They needed something to believe in, something to give them hope that they’d own the skies again.

“So where’s this Gold been hiding?”

“We don’t know. We still aren’t even sure of his location.”

He frowned. “Then how do you know he exists?”

“Because we all got the blood.”

Tomas rubbed his forehead. “You are going to have to explain because this is getting convoluted.” And not what he wanted to be doing, especially since Chandra had long since lost the soft I came for you look and appeared entirely serious instead.

“If you perhaps didn’t closet yourself, you’d know that all of the Septs received a vial of blood. Beautiful crystal bottles filled to the brim. We had it tested, thinking it was an indication of a hostage situation. Imagine the surprise when the Sept test for color indicated that it was Gold.”

“So, on the basis of a vial of blood, you think there’s one alive somewhere?” Tomas had his doubts. Did Parker have something to do with this?

“We don’t need to see the Gold to know the king returns. The blood speaks for itself. Soon, our kind shall rise and take our rightful place. Our numbers will flourish. It’s already started.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ll soon see.” The ominous words deserved more of an explanation, but his grandmother turned from him and chose to address Chandra. “I was just about to leave. Going back to town. Might I offer you a ride, child?”

The doctor took a step toward his grandmother. “Yes, please.”

Yes, please? Chandra didn’t mean it. She was a woman, which meant Tomas knew how this game was played. She’d pretend to want to go, expecting him to suddenly throw himself at her and beg her to stay. To declare he cared.

I can’t care.

He didn’t care.

Let her leave.

Doesn’t matter to me.

She turned to look at him, and he could see how she worried her lower lip, stared at him. The flicker of her pulse in her neck ticked faster. He could see she wanted him.

I knew she wouldn’t go.

Knew she…wait. What did she do? Why did Chandra raise her arms so that Grandmother might clasp her in her paws and claws? Why did she not protest as they rose to the ceiling, the hidden door sliding open?

Come back.

Don’t leave me alone.