“This is bullshit,” Samael reiterated as he adjusted his cuffs. The fine linen shirt he wore was tailored to his shape, and the gold cufflinks added that extra touch of elegance.

“Watch your language. You are a man of distinction now,” Anastasia lectured. She was always lecturing him on his manners.

Nag.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Samael had learned a while ago who truly held the power in their dynamic. Without me, she is nothing. “Don’t forget who you’re talking to.”

“And you seem to forget who I am.”

“The high priestess of the Golden religion. Blah. Blah. Blah. I know. I’ve heard about it my entire life. But guess what, I am the reason you even have a religion, so you will respect me.”

“You are much too arrogant,” she snapped.

“I know, which is why I’m so perfect,” Samael retorted, loosening the tie just a touch. It gave him an air of insouciance that would show up well in pictures. “Did you bring her as I asked?”

“The girl is here, but I don’t see why she needed to come. She’s been irritating to deal with since Parker expired.”

By expired, she meant the man had fallen to his death. It was quite the mystery—who pushed him? The cameras never did show a culprit. Nobody really cared, one megalomaniac’s death not much of a tragedy.

“She can’t be allowed to leave. Precious”—his nickname for her—“knows too much.” Way too much. The secrets Sue-Ellen had learned over the years put her in danger. And not just from his enemies. She can’t be allowed to talk to anyone lest my secrets come out.

“I agree she knows too much, which is why we should kill her. It’s more foolproof.”

“You will not kill my precious.” He tugged at the sleeves of the jacket he’d just pulled on. “Nor will you allow anyone else to do so. And that also goes for harming her.”

Anastasia tsked. “Now you sound like Parker. You are much too attached to the girl.”

“Never fear, I won’t let that get in the way of what must be done.” While he held great affection for the gator girl, he had a destiny. So did she. She just didn’t know it yet. “How goes the other part of our plan? I hear the treatments are mostly complete.”

“Yes. We can proceed at any time.” Anastasia smoothed the skirt of her red gown. Always with the red.

“What of Tomas and the child in his mate’s belly?” A child implanted by Parker. Tomas, also a dragon but of the Obsidian Sept, had found himself enjoying Parker’s hospitality for a while. During that time, his seed and special ability had been harnessed and used to fertilize a human woman’s egg. A woman who’d been injected with something special and rare. In a few months, they would see if that and the other experiments bore fruit. So many exciting things about to happen. One step closer to ruling the world.

“The Mauves are keeping the couple closely guarded. From what we hear, Tomas isn’t taking chances with his mate or his child. Our source inside the Mauve Sept says everything is progressing as it should.”

“And what of the Silvers?” Via certain hidden channels, Parker’s company—now Samael’s company; a gift from Anastasia—had entered into negotiations with the matriarch. The pompous old dame showed an interest in a certain potion, which, according to very good rumor, she needed for a daughter. It was a potion only Samael could provide.

Anastasia flicked at his lapel. “The old hag is balking at the price. But she’ll give in soon. She doesn’t want a wyvern as a grandchild.” None of the great families wanted a wyvern, which was the result of humans and dragons mixing.

Wyverns were the stunted version of dragons, incapable of fully ascending, and sterile to boot.

Until now.

I hold the secret to changing that.

He knew so many secrets, and tonight one of them would be revealed to the world. “Shall we go play our parts?” he asked the woman who’d spent her life— when he wasn’t in the labs—teaching him her version of the world. A world as seen by a dragon.

A world that is mine.

“This is not a game.”

“I should hope not. We are talking about global domination. But, I should add, if it were a game”—he winked—“I’d win.”

“It’s time, milord. Priestess.” Bertrand entered the room and immediately dropped to a knee with his head bowed. The man knew his place and respected it. Now if only he’d wear a bell so Samael could hear him coming because he certainly couldn’t smell the man. Another annoying wyvern trait, but it made them excellent soldiers.

The wyverns of the Crimson Sept—a Sept that did not shun them as others did—served as part of their security team. They would lay down their lives for Samael—because, if they didn’t, Anastasia would strip it from them.

“Outside doors are closed.” From Bertrand’s earpiece, Samael could hear the hum of voices as various teams reported. “Security is in position. The media representatives you requested have gathered.”

“Then let us give them a story.” Anastasia lifted her chin and strutted out. She didn’t seem concerned at all about the bombshell they would unleash on the world. The woman who’d raised him had balls. Big ones.

But mine are bigger.

Samael knew how to time his entrance. He waited a moment before he followed. Let her prepare the way with an introduction.

Stepping up to the podium, Samael looked upon the crowd, all those human faces eager for a story. His story. And he gave it to them.

Time to make his claim on this world.

“I am Samael D’Ore. The rightful dragon king. The one foretold.” What he didn’t tell them yet was that he would one day soon rule them all.

And they could do nothing to stop it from coming.