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“I’m serious. Don’t you have anything better to do? Like, say, catch the maniacs coming after us?”
“The team is working on that. Unfortunately, my valuable time is spent making sure my bratty protectee doesn’t get himself killed instead of investigating who’s behind the attacks.” Jeremiah’s eyes narrowed on him, taking a half step closer and towering over Remi.
He threw his hands up in the air. “How am I going to get myself killed walking through the gardens? You won’t be happy until I’m locked in my bedroom twenty-four seven, will you?”
“You could have a lot more freedom if you joined your brother and sister—”
“No,” Remi snarled, inching closer. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the other guards ease back and discreetly disappear around the towering hedges and fruit trees. Cowards. “This is my home. My future kingdom. I won’t run scared every time there’s a little danger.”
“A little danger?” Steam began to rise from Jeremiah’s stupidly wide shoulders, his irises flickering with blue flames. “A little danger?”
Remi rolled his eyes. “Quit being so dramatic.”
He was pretty sure he heard one of Jeremiah’s molars crack he was clenching his jaws so tightly. “Dramatic? I almost fucking died, little princeling. In case you forgot.”
Guilt prickled at his skin and soured his stomach. He hadn’t. Gods no. He’d barely slept since their trip to the beach because every time he shut his eyes, he saw Jeremiah barely moving, body covered in burned, welted skin. When he did manage to fall asleep, his mind helpfully provided imaginative ways the day could have gone if Jeremiah hadn’t been able to take out the attackers before going down. What they might have done not just to him but Percy and Sadie too.
He shuddered and looked away, taking a deep breath to steady himself before saying more softly, “Hardly. But no one would be stupid enough to try and attack the palace. I’m safe.”
“I decide when you’re safe. And until whoever is behind these attacks is caught, I wouldn’t bet your life on anywhere being completely safe. This place may be formidable, but nowhere is completely impenetrable.”
Squeezing his hands into fists, Remi tipped his chin up. “Fine. It’s not safe. Whatever. I guess you’re stuck trailing after me because I’m not staying cooped up inside all day, every day.”
Jeremiah opened his mouth to say something else—probably to call Remi a brat or spoiled or something equally rude but no doubt true—but he spun on his heel and stomped away. He’d just ignore the man and continue with what he’d planned on doing.
He was also going to ignore how his heart rate had sped up, his dick beginning to thicken in his shorts the moment he’d turned and found Jeremiah right behind him and only getting worse the closer they’d gotten.
And when Jeremiah had literally started to smoke with anger?
Gods, that should not be arousing. Did he have a death wish or something?
When the enormous fountain in the center of the garden came into view, his body began to relax. Three Siren statues, shifted tails sparkling in the sun, sprayed water from their mouths and outstretched palms in the middle. It was one of Remi’s favorite places in the whole kingdom, the water running through the feature pumped in from the coast and perfectly salty.
He stepped up to the stone edge, slipped out of his sandals, and climbed over the short wall. As soon as his bare toes hit the seawater, the remaining tension drained out of his body, and he sighed softly. As traumatic as the trip to the beach had been, he wished he’d been able to spend more time standing in the ocean, letting the waves crash over him and rejuvenate him.
The pool was okay, but the stagnant water didn’t feel alive, not like the fountain. It was the closest he could get without returning to the beach, and he knew without asking that was out of the question for the foreseeable future.
The water came all the way up to his knees, getting the hem of his shorts damp. He didn’t usually wear clothes when he dipped into the fountain, but he hadn’t thought to change into his bathing suit first, wanting to try and get there before his overprotective Hellhound noticed.
Biting his lip, he glanced over his shoulder and saw Jeremiah standing there watching him, arms crossed over his chest, but the other guards were still out of sight. He knew they were still there though, silently keeping him safe from whatever boogeyman Jeremiah thought was lurking in the shadows of the gardens.
Sucking in a deep lungful of briny air, he faced the statues and gripped the hem of his shirt, ripping it over his head in one quick move. He thought he heard a noise behind him, but he refused to turn around, not wanting anyone to see his flushed cheeks. The last thing he wanted was for them to know he was embarrassed, but if they were going to treat him like a prisoner, then he’d take what little pleasures he could get, whether they watched or not.
As he tucked his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts, prepared to shuck them off as well, a hair-raising growl started up right behind him.
He whipped around, an instinctive fear response coalescing in his belly and goose bumps racing down his arms, but Jeremiah wasn’t looking at him. His head was turned to the side, teeth bared and hands curled at his sides, where his claws had lengthened. As he lifted his lip in an aggressive snarl, a shiver ran down Remi’s spine at the sight of his enormous fangs.
“Leave.”
There was a soft rustling as the other guards fled in the face of a Hellhound’s wrath.
“Wow. Was that really necessary? What happened to danger lurk—”
Jeremiah turned back to him, and the words died in Remi’s throat at the blue glow in his eyes. He looked pissed. Like he was half a second away from tearing Remi’s face off kind of pissed.
“What are you playing at?” Jeremiah growled, advancing on the fountain.
Swallowing, Remi licked his lips and shuffled back, closer to the statues. “What do you mean?”
