Poor Samael. The man was quite overcome, probably with worry about her.

She could tell he thought her a delicate flower in need of his protection. So sexy. But nothing wrong with showing him from time to time that she was strong. Soon, he’d get to see just how wonderful an assertive woman could be—especially in bed.

He won’t need to sign a waiver.

Her libido rubbed its greedy hands in glee.

“Don’t worry that pretty Gold head of yours. We’ll soon be getting out of here.”

“Have you finally lost what few marbles you had left?” was his sarcastic reply as he struggled from his face-plant position to a sitting one.

“Oh, please. I lost those a long time ago to cousin Mary. She collects the damned things. If you want to win at anything with her, just grab a bag from the dollar store and scatter them to distract her.”

“Isn’t that cheating?”

She blinked. “Your point being?”

A rusty chuckle emerged, and it was with a hint of wonder he mumbled, “Holy fuck, I never thought I’d find a reason to laugh again.”

“This is just the beginning, stud muffin. You and I are going to have glorious adventures together, lots of laughter, and insanely hot sex.”

“Sounds overly optimistic given our situation.”

“A moment ago, you said we would escape.”

“A moment ago, I temporarily forgot the situation. It’s still shit, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“Dungeon half full, stud. You gotta see the positive around you.”

“What’s positive about being held in a dragon-proof cell?”

“Well, for one thing, you’re only half dragon. And two, I’m here.” She flung out her hands and sang, “Ta-da!”

“I don’t see how that helps.”

“Because you’re grumpy on account you’re probably horny. Don’t worry. We’ll fix that real soon.”

“You keep saying that, yet I’ve yet to hear your concrete plan to escape.” He indicated the walls and bars of his prison cell. “I’ve tried. This place was made to resist a dragon.”

She patted the stone wall. “It totally was. You’ve got to hand it to our European ancestors. They knew how to build dungeons. But, while they are great at keeping us from busting out, that doesn’t stop someone from getting in.”

“Who would come here?” He waved a hand at their surroundings. “There isn’t even a Starbucks around.”

“Don’t say the S word,” she moaned. “I could go for a hibiscus drink right about now,” she muttered. “I’ll be posting a less-than-stellar review about this castle on TripAdvisor. With a highlight on the lack of amenities.” She shook her fist at the ceiling. “Would it kill you to have some coffee?”

“No one is coming to rescue us because no one knows we’re here.”

“Don’t be so sure of that. I found you.”

“Yes, you found me. But let me ask you, did you tell anyone where you went? Do you even know where we are?”

She waved a hand. “Not yet. A minor detail that I will solve once I get a peek out of a window.”

“Even if you did manage to look, and hell, let’s say you saw an address, who would you tell? We have no phone. No internet. No fucking flares even.” He ticked the items off on his fingers. “I hate to break it to you, spoiled princess, but no one is coming because no one knows where this”—big gesture to the space around them—“is.”

“Correction, my Golden stud. They do know.” She slapped her butt. “Mother had me chipped after the third time I went missing at the mall.”

“Your mom chipped you like a dog?”

Her nose wrinkled. “Well, she didn’t put it like that. Her exact words were, ‘Precious darling Deka, I would be devastated and probably throw myself into an abyss should you ever come to any harm due to my parental negligence in watching over you.’”

“Your mother said that?” He didn’t hide his skepticism.

“Not in those exact words, but that was the gist. I mean, how else would you translate ‘Demon spawn, I’m going to put a tracker in you before child services tries to charge me with child abandonment?’ Same thing.”

“Totally.”

She couldn’t help but beam at him. “I knew you’d understand. My family doesn’t always get me. Apparently, some shrink told my mom I had some dissociative disorder. She also claimed I had a dose of narcissism and a fancy word I can never pronounce.”

“Mine told me I had a superiority complex,” he shared.

Her nose wrinkled. “What’s wrong with that?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Did your shrink know you were a Gold? Because I kind of think you’re obliged to have a god complex given your genes.”

“See, you understand, but would that prick listen?”

“No!” She clasped her hands eagerly. “So you ate him for his temerity.”

“I wish. Anastasia wouldn’t let me. So I returned that night and burned down the place.” He paused. “While he was in there with his mistress.” A smile crested his lips, and she returned it, excited by the peeking of his previous arrogance.

There’s the dragon I want as a mate.

“Vengeance is yummier than anything. When we get out of here—” she said.

You’re gonna get naked and bend over for me. She heard his thought as clear as day but didn’t let it distract her.

“We’re gonna—”

Come so hard on my cock, you’ll choke on it.

Ooh, that almost made her veer off tangent, but she held strong and finished. “Get you some clothes.”

“What?”

Why does she want to dress me?

She could hear and understand his confusion, given both their fantasies involved removing them.

She explained. “Yes, clothes, my naughty, naked stud. Once my crew arrives, it wouldn’t do for them to ogle you. I like most of them and would hate to have to kill them.”

“For staring.”

“Exactly.” She beamed. “I knew you’d understand. Which will make it easier to avoid any jealous psychotic episodes.”

“You’re jealous? Of me?”

“I know, surprising given that I usually outshine everything around me, but you are pretty nifty, and I can see some of the heifers thinking they could make a pass at you. Totally unacceptable, of course.”

“Of course,” he replied faintly. “Does this mean I am allowed to insist you wear turtlenecks?” Lest anyone admire the smooth line of her neck.

She heard the thought clearly. It brought a giddy feeling inside. “You might want to insist on baggy track pants. Just like you might have to endure ugly haircuts, the kind where I trim it with a bowl on your head.”

His lips twitched. “Or we could both stun the world with our looks, let them ogle us, and, after a glorious jealous fight, have screaming make-up sex.”

She sighed. “You say the sweetest things. All that’s left to add is that right after the third orgasm you give me, I say we go grab a big fat cheeseburger, loaded with toppings, fries, and a milkshake because we need to get some meat back on those bones.”

“The dungeon diet has left me a little skinnier than before.” He peeked down at his frame.

“I don’t mind a bit of bone, but only when it comes with a steak. Oh, and I’ll make an exception for your cock.”

Poor guy choked. Probably swallowed the wrong way.

“Don’t worry, my hot stud. Soon you’ll be gasping for air because I’ll be riding you like a cowgirl.” Bareback. No point in waiting. Her biological clock was ticking, and she needed to catch up. A few cousins and friends had already popped out some cute babbling runts. She wanted to smell like baby powder and vomit, too.

He turned serious. “Do you really think sex should be high on our list? I mean the suzerain has evil plans. Shouldn’t we be concerned about the fate of the world…?”

She stared at him.

“Possible extinction of mankind, famine, war…?”

She stared some more until he slowed and finished with. “You’re right. Fuck ’em all. They can wait while I do you until your toes curl.”

My toes have been curling from the first moment I met you.

She didn’t say it aloud, yet she caught the widening of his eyes. The lines of communication between them were expanding. It was often the case with mated pairs, especially now that they’d touched and formed a light bond.

Sex would cement it.

While she waited for the heifers to raid the castle, they spent a while chatting. The old, brash Samael she’d glimpsed from before surfacing at first in bits and pieces, then longer stretches.

This was the man, the dragon, the almost king, she’d fallen for.

The evil glint he got in his eye, though, that was why she loved him.

“I might have a plan to get out of these cells,” he claimed.

Given her girl parts had sucked all the blood from her brain, making it impossible to think, she was glad he’d finally come up with something. Because Babette and the crew were taking their sweet time showing up.

Seriously. They should have been here by now. Perhaps the place was better guarded than it appeared. Just having seen Jabba One and Two didn’t mean there weren’t more guards or security devices.

Deka’s personal hoard-hiding spot was something out of a Tomb Raider movie with hidden pits, fiery arrows, and poisonous darts. She even had a giant boulder that dropped.

Only problem was, it didn’t just squish intruders; it smooshed her treasure, too.

Getting blood and gore out of flattened gold filigree was a bitch. At least she’d learned not to keep any action figures in that spot after the first loss. She still had yet to replace the Ewok village from the eighties.

“What’s the plan, stud?”

“When our jailor comes with our next meal, seduce him.”

“Um, as my super jealous boyfriend, shouldn’t you be against that?”

His gaze fixed her. “Are you attracted to him?”

“Not particularly.”

“And I never said you have to go very far. You need to get him close enough to steal his keys. Then toss them to me while you hold him off.”

“You want me to fight him?” She pointed to herself. “How come this plan doesn’t involve you seducing him and tossing me the keys while you overpower him?”

“It won’t work.” He shrugged. “I tried. I’m not their type.”

“You do realize, if I do this, it counts as me saving you.”

“I’m sure we’ll have an opportunity to even that score.”

“Is everything going to be competition with you?” she asked, hand on her hip.

“Probably.”

She smiled. “Soul mates, stud muffin. Total soul mates.”

His lips pressed together tightly, and he didn’t reply. She’d wager emotion overwhelmed him. Her evil overlord was so sensitive like that.

Soon, he’d have a way to express it in a bodily fashion. But before they got to the good stuff, they napped. And waited.

And chatted.

Waited some more.

Napped again.

Then she got annoyed. “When are we getting fed?” She paced her cell. “I’m getting very, very hungry.”

“You sounded like that Martian fellow on Looney Tunes just now.”

Her glare should have lasered him like an alien weapon. “Mocking my hunger is a bad idea, muffin.” She might have drooled as she growled the word.

“You won’t have to wait much longer, psycho.”

“Don’t you try and butter me up unless it’s real butter. In that case, toss some over.” She usually preferred a bit of popcorn with it, but she would make an exception in this case.

“Shhh.”

He’d shushed her.

Without his cock.

Didn’t he know how it was supposed to be done?

The slow, plodding step of Jabba zipped her lips. Given their earlier plotting, she cocked a hip, wet her lips, and was ready when he appeared.

“Hey, good looking.” She eyed his empty hands and screeched, “Where’s my fucking food?”

Okay, so the plan for seduction was off to a rocky start. The secret—one she didn’t tell Samael about—involving blood and violence, though, was looking better and better.

When all else fails, dine al fresco. Jabba tartare is sounding good right about now.

She approached the bars and licked her lips. “Sorry about that, Jabba. I get a little testy when I’m hungry.”

A little? The male voice laughed in her head.

“The suzerain wants you.” Jabba eyed her, as was fitting.

She tossed her hair. “Suzie can kiss my perky ass. Wait.” She frowned. “He already wants to do that. On second thought, tell Suzie to blow himself because these lips belong to Sammy.”

“You think you have a choice?” Jabba snickered. “Night-night princess.” He poured powder into his hand from the satchel at his…not exactly a waist. Roll by his side? Starboard section?

The fine particles flew through the air, a hazy mess of dust that she knew better than to inhale. She waved a hand frantically. Held her breath. Pinched her nose, and puffed her cheeks.

The fine dust landed on her skin.

Her eyes shut, and she sagged to the floor as the locks tumbled and clicked, the door inching open.

Only when Jabba was right over her, grunting—rudely—as he pulled her feather-light body—lighter than he implied, goddammit—did she snap open her eyes and yell, “Boo!” before swinging her legs upward and kicking Jabba in the head.

Rolling to her feet, she punched Jabba again and again. Giggling all the while.

“Drug me. Ha. My mother made me immune to most potions at a young age.” Not always intentionally. Deka liked to swallow the stuff in the pretty bottles, especially if it glowed.

“Don’t. You’ll. Fuck.” Jabba couldn’t finish a sentence, and soon couldn’t stand. He slumped to the floor, unconscious.

She put a foot on him and raised her hands in victory. “And the crowd goes wild.”

When no applause was forthcoming, she glared at Sammy. “Ahem. I said the crowd goes wild.”

He crossed his arms. She knew that look.

The kind that said he wanted to thank her in person rather than waste his energy clapping.

“I’m coming for you, Sammy.” And she meant that quite literally. Shudder.