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There was a rustle in the brush, and Remi’s head whipped to the side, though he could feel an odd, pulsing tug somewhere deep in his sternum telling him it was the Hellhound. He flushed, glancing back at his father, who was giving him an odd look.
“How are you getting on with your guard?”
“Fine,” he said, trying and failing to mask his irritation. “He’s a dick, but I haven’t died, so I guess he’s succeeding at his job.”
The look on his father’s face was one of pure and utter disbelief. “Is that all you think of him?”
“What else is there?” Remi asked, sitting up. He felt irritation crawling under his skin like tiny fire ants, and he couldn’t shake it off. “I just want this to be over so he can go home and I never have to see him again. Things will be better… back to normal.”
James hummed softly. “I see.”
Remi folded his arms, feeling like a petulant child. It was no wonder Jeremiah called him a brat, but he couldn’t seem to help the way he was feeling. Like some adolescent hitting his first hormone surge, and godsdamn it all, but he was supposed to be past that now.
“Remi…”
“I need to go inside,” Remi said with a huff, pulling his legs out of the water. He caught a glimpse of his scales, which would have made him happy since it was so much harder for him to shift than full Sirens, but all he felt was a strange, longing pulse in his chest that he didn’t know how to relieve.
He appreciated that his father didn’t try to stop him when he left, but he felt very alone as he navigated the corridors back to his room and even worse when the door shut, cutting him off from the small thread that was linking him to his bodyguard.
* * *
Another two days passed before Remi snapped. He was not only going stir-crazy, but every time Remi so much as moved, Jeremiah tensed like Remi was about to be blown into pieces.
It was late at night—somewhere past midnight—when Remi snuck out of his room. He followed the odd feeling in his chest, the pulsing getting stronger as he got closer to the Hellhound, and it was no surprise when he found him in the guards’ training arena.
It was completely empty that late at night, though Remi could see guards posted on the walls a few yards from the courtyard, but he ignored them in favor of approaching the Hellhound, who was taking out all of his aggression on one of the heavy bags.
There were claw marks on the side, and Remi was pretty sure it was done for.
“Why aren’t you getting your beauty sleep, princeling?”
Remi bristled at the name but didn’t let himself react to it. “Why are you beating down this bag like it owes you money?”
Jeremiah snorted a laugh, then reared back like the sound surprised him. He didn’t look over, which was fine with Remi because he got the perfect view of the Hellhound’s ass as he sauntered toward the table and snapped up his water bottle.
Remi could see the line of Jeremiah’s throat and the way it bobbed as he swallowed down mouthful after mouthful of water.
“Is there something you need?” Jeremiah asked after swiping the back of his hand over his wet, pink lips.
Remi swallowed heavily, shook his head, then changed course and nodded. “Yeah. Yes.”
Jeremiah raised a brow, staring at him pointedly.
In that moment, Remi almost panicked and ran. He felt small and young and pathetic. If that odd connection between them hadn’t tethered Remi to the spot, he actually might have. Instead, he took a breath, then said, “Teach me to fight.”
Jeremiah choked on his second drink of water. “Sorry?”
Remi squared his shoulders. “I said, teach me to fight.”
Jeremiah slowly set the bottle down, then folded his arms over his massive chest and turned to face Remi. “Teach you to fight,” he echoed.
“Am I speaking a new language?” Remi demanded.
Jeremiah shook his head, but he wasn’t saying no. He looked incredulous and maybe even a little annoyed. “What makes you think I have time to waste on that?”
Remi’s eyes widened. “Waste—dude, fuck you. It’s not a waste of time to teach me how to defend myself.”
“Yes,” Jeremiah said slowly, like he was talking to a toddler, “it is. I’m in the middle of running an investigation while also trying to protect your pretty face from getting smeared all over the pavement by some group of maniacs who have it out for your family.”
