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The scrapping dragons didn’t amuse as much as Titus had hoped. They tumbled around, snarling as they wrestled, making plenty of noise but accomplishing nothing. They didn’t even draw blood. What was the point of those teeth and claws if not to rend flesh and scales?

The viziers stood clustered across from Titus, once more wearing their veils, though he couldn’t discern why.

He knew what they looked like. Knew Klothi intimately.

She’d tried to protest when he’d come to her room that first time after she turned young, but he was emperor.

If he said spread your legs, you’d better obey.

In the end, Klothi did as she was told. Not enthusiastically, but he didn’t care.

There was greater satisfaction in seeing her comply, knowing she hated it, hated him, and yet still submitted to his will.

And soon the haughty Queen of Daerva would be taught the same lesson in humility and obedience. He couldn’t wait to make her cry and beg. To see her swell with his heir and know how she’d hate the fact his child would one day sit on her throne.

His progeny would be put in charge of every country. Loyal to him, the Emperor Supreme.

Thinking of Avera suddenly had him eager to get started.

“This is boring,” he declared. “I’m going to see my consort. Do not interrupt me.”

“We wouldn’t dream of it,” Klothi murmured.

Titus strode for the stairs and raced down the single flight to the common area. Avera’s door was closed. As if that would stop him.

He stomped to it, hoping she trembled hearing her husband coming to take his due. He didn’t knock but rather slammed the door open hard enough it bounced off the wall.

“Prepare yourself. Tonight, you truly become my consort.” He stepped into the bedroom only to frown. The space appeared empty. The bed was still made. No Avera lurking in a corner, nor under the furniture when he peeked.

He returned to the common room. “You can’t hide from me! There’s nowhere for you to run.” The many streams of lava outside made flight impossible, not to mention the lack of a bridge, were she so foolish to even attempt it.

One by one, he went through each of the chambers, his annoyance increasing when he didn’t find her.

She had to be here somewhere. As he emerged into the common area he espied the stairs going down into the shrine.

Had she foolishly thought he wouldn’t look there?

The so-called holiness of the place wouldn’t stop him from taking her on the altar.

He galloped down the steps, grumbling, “This disobedience of yours is unacceptable. If you weren’t my consort and needed for breeding, you’d be beheaded for your temerity.”

No reply.

The shrine was empty. The lack of benches allowed him to see everywhere but behind the altar. She most likely huddled behind it, shaking in fear, the thought of which excited.

Rather than announce his approach, he moved stealthily, making not a sound as he crept to the altar. He leaped atop the stone and shouted, “Aha…” An exclamation that trailed off as he realized nobody hid behind it.

Perplexed, he remained standing on the altar, glancing left and right. The lights in the room dispelled all shadows. He could see every inch of the space and the fact Avera wasn’t there.

Where had she gone?

He must have somehow missed her. He returned to the level with the bedrooms and once more searched, this time tossing furniture aside, seeking a hidey hole, getting more and more enraged when he couldn’t locate Avera.

How dare she defy him. Bad enough he’d had to put up with her lippiness while he’d pretended to woo her.

He was her husband now. A consort was supposed to be obedient.

It occurred to him, as he clenched his fists in the common room, that perhaps she’d snuck to the roof to watch the dragons fighting. Perhaps tucked herself away discreetly enough he hadn’t noticed her upon his departure.

He returned to the rooftop to find the viziers each holding the chain attached to the collar of a dragon. He ignored them as he scanned the area. Still no Avera.

“Where is she?” he bellowed. “Where is my consort?”

“Gone,” Klothi stated almost smugly.

“She killed herself?” It wouldn’t be the first time a consort had vexed him in such a fashion. His second consort only lasted a few months before throwing herself from the palace tower.

“As if she’d do such a cowardly thing,” Karoki scoffed. “She’s fled the shrine.”

“Don’t be stupid. How could she leave? We’re surrounded by lava. Even if she avoids the ditches, the blistering heat would crisp her.” He waved a hand at the scorching plains.

“She is descended from dragons, and as such, anything fiery isn’t a problem for her,” Klothi admitted.

At hearing that tidbit, Titus gaped. “Immune to flame? How come I’m just hearing about this now?”

“Because we didn’t want you to know,” Kachezi stated with a hint of mirth.

“You lied to me!” The very idea enraged. “I’ll have your head for that.”

“No, you won’t,” Klothi replied calmly, pulling a bundle of straps from her voluminous robe.

“We’ll see about that. What else have you not told me?” he spat.

“Several things which, if you were smarter, you’d have figured out, seeing as how the Dragon Compendium was missing a few pages.” Karoki’s mocking answer only increased his ire.

“You treacherous sluts.”

“Ah, the mark of a little man, resorting to insults,” Klothi mocked. “Not really surprising given the diminutive nature of your cock. It wasn’t easy to fake being impressed by it when all I wanted to do was laugh.”

The insult rendered Titus speechless. A first. “You will pay?—”

“Oh, do be quiet. You’re not in a position to threaten anything,” Klothi rebuked harshly. “And we no longer need to be nice. We got what we needed from you, and now it is time for us to move on to the next phase of the plan.”

“What are you talking about?” Titus huffed. “You need me. You told me so.”

“We lied,” Kachezi sang. “And you were so eager to believe everything we said. So easy to manipulate. Then again, your brain is probably as small as your cock.”

Titus swayed, dizzied by the confusion their words caused. “I don’t understand. You told me I’d be the last emperor the world knew.”

“Oh, you will be. There will not be another. On that I spoke truly,” Kachezi replied as she tossed what appeared to be a harness over the dragon’s back. It reared and bugled in annoyance. “Hush now. It will only take a moment to secure.” The pendant at its neck glowed and the beast quieted.

A confused Titus went silent, watching as she clipped the harness to the collar and looped straps around its belly.

“You’re going to ride the beast,” Titus stated even as Karoki clambered onto the dragon’s back, a beast forced to comply, its displeasure evident in its tense body and expression.

“It’s been a while since we’ve taken to the skies.” Klothi patted the dragon’s neck.

“You can’t steal my dragons,” Titus huffed.

“Steal?” Klothi snorted as she finished saddling her mount. “The dragons never belonged to you. Even though we’ve chained their will, we cannot lay claim either.”

“Ignore him,” Kachezi stated as she clambered aboard her lizard. “We need to be gone before they arrive.”

“Who arrives? Explain yourselves,” Titus demanded, wishing he didn’t sound so pleading.

“You’ll soon see.” Klothi adjusted her seating and the dragon under her rumbled with discontent.

“You will pay for this. Traitors,” he hissed.

To which a dragon replied, Now, you know how we feel.

“Be quiet. I command you to stay here.” Titus waved a hand at the beasts.

Only the guardians control the collars, little man.

The temerity had Titus shaking. He pulled the sword from the sheath at his hip and ran screaming for the closest dragon and its mounted rider.

“Time to go,” Karoki declared. She tugged the reins and her beast leaped into the air.

With a mighty yell, Titus jumped and swung.

Missed.

He hit the rooftop in an ungraceful heap that bruised more than his body.

He rose to his feet and glared as the dragons took flight, the thin cloud cover not enough to hide the glow of the full moon.

By its light, he could see them moving swiftly.

Moving away from him. Taking away his destiny and glory. Ruining his plans to rule the world.

He waved his sword and screamed at the sky. Screamed at those who’d used him. Screamed in frustration at having been fooled. How had everything unraveled so quickly?

As they disappeared from sight, his anger hardened into cold resolve. The witches might think they’d won, but they’d made a grave mistake. They should have killed him when they had a chance. He’d send his army after them and when he found them, they’d pay. Painfully.

First, though, time to fetch his fleeing consort. After all, if she could walk over hot coals, then, as a blooded, so could he. Once he’d captured Avera—and taught her a lesson—he’d rejoin his army, return to the capital, and plot his revenge.

He rushed down the steps of the shrine, boots clomping loudly. He hesitated only a second before heaving open the door to the outside. The blasting heat made him pause as he wondered if those witches had lied about the blooded ability to withstand heat.

He tested their words, bending down to touch the hot earth. His palm heated but he felt no pain. The next thing he tried took more gut clenching as he intentionally gripped a still-glowing rock. Hot. So very hot. But when he opened his hand, his flesh remained unmarred.

He smiled. Impervious to fire. What an advantage.

He began moving, cursing as the soles of his boots melted, leaving him barefoot.

While uncomfortable, his feet could handle it.

He strode rapidly, unsure which direction Avera had taken, but given the way the channels of lava ran, most likely she’d stayed between the pair that led to the bridge area.