Angel collapsed! And in spite of her insults, he apparently felt obligated to catch her. Without even thinking, Remiel grabbed a cushion and tossed it the few feet needed, managing to have it land before her head could crack off the floor.

His angel had suffered some kind of episode. A panic attack, most likely. At times, Remiel fought the panic, too. A dragon was meant for open skies.

I made this choice. But one of the people he’d made the deal with was gone. Did that still bind him?

Sue-Ellen didn’t remain unconscious for long. Her lashes fluttered, and she stared at him, eyes wide. He could feel the tension in her. Hear it in the short breaths she took.

“Calm yourself. You’ll come to no harm.”

“How can you know?”

“Because I’ll keep you safe.” He said the words, uttered the promise, and could have rapped his head off a wall. What am I doing?

He was falling into the same trap he’d fallen into years ago. The hole in his memories spilled images to him, enough that he knew who she was.

Sue-Ellen Mercer. Niece of Theo Parker. And his damned kryptonite.

She still didn’t get it. Still hadn’t figured it out. Then again, it had taken him a moment, too. He’d done everything to forget her, given away everything he had in order to get magic that would let him forget.

The magic had stopped working. He remembered it all.

Remembered her.

He kept staring at his angel, noting how she’d matured. The roundness of her cheeks gone. Her hair a touch darker than when he’d first seen her, hair still dirty blonde in color but lacking the highlights of gold she’d sported in her late teens.

She obviously wasn’t getting enough time outside given her pallor.

How he missed the rays of sun on his face.

She stared at him inquisitively.

His turn to blink stupidly as she gazed at him expectantly. She’d obviously asked him something.

“I wasn’t paying attention.” He didn’t hide it.

“Just like your brother,” she muttered.

Remiel took offense, took umbrage, especially since she obviously couldn’t tell them apart. “I am nothing like Samael.” For one, he was so much greater.

“If you say so. I don’t really know you, and what I’ve seen so far isn’t encouraging.”

“Don’t know me?” The claim angered him. He stalked toward her and noted how she held her ground even as the pulse at her neck fluttered.

Fragile in her rags and yet strong. Always so strong. So perfect. And mine. No wonder he’d tried to forget.

She held up a hand to stop him. “You can lose the attitude. I am beginning to understand you’re not happy that I crashed your little loner pity party, but keep in mind this sucks for me, too. I didn’t ask to get tossed down here, and I am freaking out about it. Have you seen how small this place is?” She hugged herself and shivered.

Was she cold? He took in her lack of clothing. The ragged medical gown she wore bothered him.

She would look much better naked.

“Did you just tell me to get naked?” Her eyes widened.

“Did I say that aloud?”

“Not happening.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“This isn’t happening.” She moaned, tucking her head against her knees. She still sat on the floor, but on the cushion, legs crossed lotus style.

Remiel crouched in front of her. “It is not the end of the world.” According to the seers back in his early teens, that was still about a decade or so away.

Then again, those same seers said he would rule the world, given where he’d ended up… Turned out they were wrong about which brother had a destiny.

“How can you be so calm?” She whispered the words against her knees, refusing to look at him.

Calm? He was a raging inferno. He just didn’t know what he raged about.

He knew he didn’t like her abject misery. No sadness allowed. She sat in the presence of greatness.

Prisoner.

A political prisoner, which meant he was too awesome for words.

“Give me your hand.” He extended his.

She didn’t grasp it. “How is that going to help?”

“Just give it to me.”

“Why?” She eyed him suspiciously.

“Why must you argue? Just do as you’re told, angel.”

“Don’t call me that. I’m no one’s angel.”

Yes she was. My angel, but apparently she hadn’t yet realized it. “Give me your hand.” He held his up, palm facing her.

“You’re bossy,” she claimed, and yet her hand rose and her fingers splayed. “I used to do this with Samael,” she said, hesitating before his palm.

“Did you?” was the only warning he gave before pressing their hands together.

The shock of the contact saw her sucking in a breath. Her eyes widened. Her lips parted.

Hot damn. The spark was still there. Still just as shocking as ever.

Remiel had not felt it while in his dragon form; apparently, it needed skin-to-skin contact. It didn’t help that his beast side went a little feral down here. All part of coping with the deal he’d made.

Because of that deal, he never thought to touch her again. That was the whole reason for forgetting.

But now, Sue-Ellen was here. His angel. With me. In my cave. Forever.

It seemed like heaven to him.

She ripped her hand from him. “No, this is not heaven. I can’t live in this cave the rest of my life.”

“But the spark? Did you not feel it when we touched?”

“Yes. And?”

“Don’t you see?” Did he have to explain it? Judging by her crossed arms and blazing eyes, he did. “I am the one you saw being held captive. The one who used to call you angel. Not Samael.”

A wry smile twisted her lips. “I figured that out already. I mean, it was kind of obvious, and I don’t see what that has to do with living here for the rest of my probably short life.”

“It’s not so bad. It’s quiet,” he offered. He rather enjoyed the peace.

Or had.

Now that he had Sue-Ellen, he found himself rather liking the verbal sparring. It would be much better if they were both naked, though.

“Not so bad? You sleep on the floor.” She pointed.

“Would you feel better if I said you could use me as your pillow?”

Her cheeks darkened as blood rushed to them. So his presence did affect her.

“What about food? I am not above eating rodent, but I can’t live on cave rats forever.”

“No rats, I’m afraid. But they do send down crates of food every so often. Livestock, too. They might not want me rampaging on the surface, but they don’t want me dying either. You never know if the priestess might have need of me.” And the doctors weren’t done with him yet.

“What does Anastasia want with you?” Sue-Ellen veered from the topic of them.

After everything he’d done for her, she thought she could distance herself. Oh, no you don’t, angel. He didn’t want to be far from her. On the contrary, he wanted to wear her like a second skin.

Figuratively, not literally.

“Anastasia wants what every dragon wants. Power. By controlling the return of a Golden king to the world, she is catapulted to the highest spot she could ever imagine. She wants to become the high priestess to the world.”

“I’m surprised she didn’t aim for queen.”

“Queens are expected to bear heirs and be under close scrutiny. As priestess, she would actually wield more power, especially amongst the other cryptozoids inhabiting the world.”

“Samael uses that word a lot. Although he shortens it to cryptos. He said he was expected to bring the Septs together under one rule. And then, once that was done, the rest of the world would follow.”

“World domination is the ultimate prize for any dragon. It would mean the biggest hoard.”

“Dragons and their hoards.” She snorted.

“You should not mock the hoards.”

“Says the man without one.”

“Who says I don’t have one?”

She cocked her head. “Do you? You admit to being a prisoner most of your life. Even now, I look around, and I don’t see much.”

“What makes you think this is where I keep it?”

“So you have a hoard? What’s in it?”

“I can’t say, but I will admit to having one. It was taken from me.” He turned away from her and rummaged through the pile of folded clothes by the wall. He kept his small pile of garments off the ground. They sat on a rock, one of many standing as pillars and shelves.

“Are those folded by color?” She approached and touched the fabric, bumping her fingers over the stacked crisp creases. “OCD much?”

“When you can slow down and take each moment and use it to its fullest, you can achieve everything, including proper organization.”

“Organization comes out of boredom.”

“Don’t tell me you’re the type to leave things strewn around getting wrinkled.”

“I also leave the cap off the toothpaste.” She smiled, and he almost fell to his knees.

I never thought I’d see it again.

He found his balls and frowned. “How did I not know you were a slob?”

“Because if I only ever saw you when Uncle Parker was making a point, then that means we never talked much at all.”

Because there was no reason to talk. He’d felt the connection to her from day one—and she had, too.

He’d seen her cry for him, felt that rightness and possessiveness that said she was his.

She’d sent him little tokens during his incarceration. Books with notes. Special foods. Even a college football sweater that still held her scent.

She’d cared for him, the only person who ever did and wanted nothing in return. Which was why he might have snapped a bit when she said, “It’s crazy knowing that the guy I used to make out with was Samael and not you.”

She made out with my brother!

Bright, golden light flared brightly.