Orgasms could only happen so many times before they lost a little of their power.

Despite her best attempts to keep Samael naked, even Deka couldn’t make their honeymoon last forever, especially after the most recent luxury hotel kicked them out for excessive noise complaints.

“Bunch of uptight biddies,” she grumbled. “I can’t control how loud I scream when I come.”

“Obviously. I’m just that good.”

So good. Samael was also good at arguing, which led to the dropped charges of indecent public affection.

The only thing indecent about it was the cop who stopped them before they got to the fun part.

Real life called, usually in the form of her mother with her daily question of, “Did he get you pregnant yet?” Someone was anxious to be a grandma.

They returned to the Underground Lair of Deviousness—a title Samael begrudgingly allowed. Secretly, she was convinced he loved it. After all, he was her evil overlord and—

“I’m not evil,” he remarked as he carried his wife—that’s me! —over the threshold.

“Can’t you be just a tiny bit evil, for me?” she asked.

He sighed, and she thought he was about to agree, only he said, “Would it kill you to call first?”

As to whom Samael spoke to, it was Remiel, dressed casually, leaning in the doorway to the living room—which had better have been redecorated in that under the sea theme she’d ordered.

“I thought we should speak in person.”

“As long as it’s only speaking.” Deka shoved out of his grip and stood in front of Samael, every inch of her bristling. “Don’t you even think of killing my husband. He’s mine, and I won’t let you hurt him.”

Adorable and emasculating at the same time. But to love Deka was to accept that she would never sit gracefully in the background.

“No one is killing anyone. Not yet.”

“I should hope not,” Samael grumbled. “He’s drinking my oldest scotch. It would be a waste.”

She eyed Remiel suspiciously. “Why are you here then? Do you need us to vanquish evil again? Did you have another wedding gift?”

“Actually, I’m here to give Samael a more official title than brother. I know we’ve had our differences, and don’t have the warmest relationship.”

“Arctic,” Deka coughed into her fist.

“But I’d like us to put that aside and work together to—”

“Make the world a better place,” she sang.

“Actually, I was going to say rule it. I’m only one dragon, and I could use someone I can trust at my back. The humans can’t be trusted to protect our interests. Which means we’ll need to step up. What do you say?” Remiel held out his hand, and Samael stared at it.

Overwhelmed, the poor guy. So Deka grabbed his hand and shoved it into his brother’s. “He accepts. So long as he gets to make his headquarters here. Oh, and we want a cool title.”

“How’s the King’s First Advisor and Senior Wizard sound?”

“I’m your only wizard.”

“It comes with a staff of Silvers to boss around.”

Samael’s hand tightened on his brother’s. “I won’t let you down.”

You’d better not. Our child deserves only the very best.

Samael whirled. “You’re…”

“Very pregnant. Daddy.”

Good thing Remiel was there to catch him before he smashed his pretty face.

And she captured it all on video and added it to her hoard. She’d begun a new section in it, one dedicated to the wonderful life she’d started with Samael. Because now that her dragon was reborn, she didn’t want to miss a single moment.

---

The walk was longer than they liked, but they were left no choice.

The hell dimension portal to Earth was busted. Samael might have gifted the brothers with freedom by setting them free on this plane, but he wouldn’t give them access to his.

“And he’s supposed to be the future of our kind?” Maedoc snorted. “How did it not occur to him that there was more than one place in this world to cross over?”

“Because we never told him,” replied Eogan with a smirk.

There were many things they’d omitted telling Samael and his concubine, such as exactly how they’d deciphered the ancient language in the texts they found.

None of them could read the language. Good thing the inhabitants here could and welcomed those exiled with open arms.

It was kind of sad when they eventually disappeared. The start of their slow tumble.

Now, unless they moved their asses and acted, they would finally come to the end of their life.

We did not fight this hard to stay alive to die now. Not when freedom was so close.

“Good thing we had that snack stashed away.”

Voadicia wasn’t the only one who’d benefitted from being so close to earthside. When they went and collected dragons for her use, the Jabbas bargained for extra for them. And hid them. They couldn’t suck at their souls much without notifying the suzerain they’d been feeding.

But with her and the Golden apprentice gone, they siphoned as quickly as they could before making the journey to the other citadel.

It took more than a few souls to change their amorphous slob shape. They’d regained their trim stature. Their lush hair, and their mischievous nature.

We’re back.

Maedoc snickered. He’d watched the same movie and recognized the accent.

Now able to fit in, they were ready to cross over one last time. The dimensions were shifting. Soon, they would be out of sync. They couldn’t delay any longer, yet they couldn’t help but pause before a door leading down to a very well-protected dungeon in a castle far, far away from their usual home. A dungeon with only a single occupant in it. One not visited in quite some time.

Because the suzerain thought the occupant dead.

“Should we?” asked Maedoc.

Eogan looked at the barred door and thought of what lay beyond. “He is likely to be imbued with a murderous rage.”

“Yup.”

“It seems only right we free him, too.” Especially after what they’d done.

The lock disengaged, and they fled, off to start their new and wondrous—ly wicked—lives.

As to the one locked away for all those centuries, born in captivity because his world was invaded and his people killed until only he remained?

He stepped out of his cell for the first time since his birth. He might have rejoiced except, what was there to celebrate?

His world was dead. The lushness of it killed by the dragons who had siphoned every ounce of life from the land.

There is nothing for me here. Nothing but the bitter taste and smell of defeat.

With only one purpose, he followed the tracks of the ones who’d set him free, followed them to an ancient portal created by his people. A peaceful race overcome by the greed of dragons.

But I am not my ancestors. He wouldn’t meekly bend a knee and accept his fate. He wanted vengeance, and he could only achieve that elsewhere.

Inhaling deeply, he took a look back at the castle, seen for the first time in person—yet familiar because his mother used to share images of it with him as a child cradled on her lap.

And then she died.

They all died.

A family that stretched generations, going from violent and war mongering to peaceful. And easily destroyed.

Turning away from the physical reminder of their defeat, he took a step through the portal and choked as he breathed fresh air for the first time.

The sweetness brought tears to his eyes. The purity dropped him to his knees with weakness. He bowed his head as he finally understood exactly what had been taken from him.

Everything.

Standing on the parapet of the crumbling castle, he surveyed the land he’d come to. Lush. Green. Alive…

Mine. The dragons had taken everything in his world. It seemed only fair that he return the favor.

Soon, you will know my name. You will fear it.

My name is Lucifer, the last branch of the Shining Ones. And this world is about to become mine.

---