Something agitated his brother.

A king shouldn’t stoop to spying, and yet that was exactly what Samael did. He paced and watched the events in the mirror. Magic mirror on my wall…

Something out of a fairy tale and yet the only way he could spy on Remiel’s cave network. Forget using drones. His brother ever did have a knack for finding and destroying them. The fact that Samael couldn’t use technology meant he had to resort to other methods. More arcane ones.

Like scrying mirrors. The witches had enchanted many pairs of reflective items, random things that Remiel would never suspect, such as his spoons, the shaving mirror, the buckle on his belt.

It allowed Samael and the priestess to watch, but not hear. Watching, however, proved more than enough. Enough for him to see Remiel in bed with Sue-Ellen, not doing anything. Yet. “I don’t like it.”

“Like what, my king?” Said with the right tone of deference, and yet he could see Anastasia didn’t really pay him any mind. The priestess with her red hair caught in a chignon and a loose robe that left nothing to the imagination was bent over a laptop. She spent a lot of time sending messages since Parker’s death. Too many messages that she didn’t let him see.

What is she hiding from me?

“Putting her with Remiel was a bad idea. I want her back.” Because it burned to see his brother touching her.

Technically, he had her first.

So what?

From the moment Samael had seen Sue-Ellen—and understood what she meant to Remiel—he’d wanted her. The fact that he was told he couldn’t have her by Parker and Anastasia only made her more appealing.

“Sue-Ellen isn’t being prepared for you,” they’d told him.

He didn’t care what Parker’s plans entailed. Samael wanted to claim her as a man claimed a woman. Wanted to plant his seed inside her womb and then flaunt her in front of his brother.

His desires were ignored. The Golden heir was denied because as Anastasia claimed, “Your seed is too valuable to waste on a swamp critter.”

That was what Anastasia sneeringly called his precious. “Muck-born bitch and about as smart. Those kinds of girls are only good for one thing.”

Anastasia was right. They were good for only one thing. Their genetics. More aptly, their eggs.

Sue-Ellen Mercer had excellent genetics for a dragon experiment. Anastasia was counting on it.

“You know you can’t have her, and no amount of whining will change that,” Anastasia reminded.

“I am not whining. I just don’t see why I couldn’t be first.” First to breach her and then hand her off to his brother as a leftover.

“Because of the deal.”

Ah, yes, the deal. The deal Remiel had made to keep Sue-Ellen safe. The one that Samael delighted in flouting every time he kissed her lips.

“He’s got her now, and look. He doesn’t even know what to do with her.” The idiot slept—with his arm around her. And she allowed it!

“You have other things to worry about, my king.” Anastasia guided him from the mirrored surface and pointed instead to a stack of reports.

Paper. Paper and more fucking paper. He was king, not a bloody secretary. “What is that?”

“Our spy network has been reporting their findings. Most of the Septs are showing positive interest in the resurrection of their Golden king.”

“Who’s resisting?” he asked, and yet he could have guessed the answer.

“Mauve and Silver. But they will come around.”

“They’d better, or I’ll crush them.” He’d eradicate their line down to the last egg.

“Crushing the colors is what led to our decimation in the first place. You need to, instead, band the colors and any other cryptozoids under your banner. Otherwise, the humans will easily wipe us out again.”

“We are not weak like our ancestors. We have and can use the same weapons the humans do against them.”

“Have you forgotten how badly they outnumber us?”

“They are sheep.” He stood and banged a fist as he shouted it.

“Sheep who slaughtered their shepherds,” Anastasia yelled back as she whirled on him, her eyes flashing with green fire. All dragons had the emerald flames when riled.

Except for one.

“We are stronger than we’ve ever been. They will not win.” Not if they were more ruthless. Now that they’d found the ancient recipes, they would become even bigger and stronger.

Dragons would once again rule the world.

And Samael would show Anastasia who ruled them all.

He reached forward, lightning quick, and snared the priestess by the hair, drawing her close. Close enough that he could breathe against her lips. “We are no longer weak.” He twisted his fist tighter in her locks.

The pain only excited her. “The king is mighty.”

The king was. And the king showed her how mighty with his sword.