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Remi moaned and thrust his hard cock against Jeremiah’s hip. He was so turned on, but some of the feeling in his chest didn’t seem to be his own, and he had no idea what to make of that.
“Behave, brat,” he ordered.
Remi grinned, clearly trying to look innocent. “Make me.”
Jeremiah gripped him by the jaw and met his gaze, his eyes burning. “Don’t think I won’t, little prince. I’ll be back soon.”
“You’re going out with that?” Remi asked, brushing his hand over the front of Jeremiah’s pants.
Jeremiah bared his teeth. “And I’ll make you sorry for that when I get back too.”
It took all of his control to let go and walk away, and he kept to a dark corner of the corridor until he willed his erection to go down enough to casually and carefully tuck it away.
He was wound up and still hot when he rounded a corner and found Knight waiting for him, and he wanted to knock the shit-eating grin off his face.
“Happiness looks good on you, Sunshine.”
“If you like the way your fangs look in your mouth, you’ll drop it,” Jeremiah warned.
“I don’t know why you’re all tied up in knots,” Knight told him, elbowing him gently. The touch was fleeting but still more than he did to anyone outside the Alpha Team. “He likes you just as much.”
Jeremiah hated how that made him feel all warm in the chest. “It’s impossible. You realize that, right?”
“The king and queen support—”
“I know,” Jeremiah interrupted. The ache of knowing he’d need to let go of something that everyone who should matter supported was far too real. “But that doesn’t change anything. Remi is already fighting for his position because of his human half. Imagine what his people—not to mention those assholes in the press—will do if he announced he wanted to bond with a damn Hellhound.”
Knight bowed his head and said nothing because there was nothing to say. As a Vampire, he understood. He wasn’t as universally hated the same way Hellhounds were, but his species was a close second. Of course, Knight had never shown interest in anyone, and Jeremiah couldn’t imagine him falling for someone like Remi, but he knew if it happened, Knight would probably walk away, thanks to all the shit in his head from his past.
And Jeremiah should do that too.
And he would. After the job was done and Remi could go back to his normal life. Until he was sure he was safe, he wasn’t letting Remi out of his sight.
“I don’t want to see you lose hope,” Knight said as they approached the royals’ receiving room, and he stopped Jeremiah with a firm hand on his elbow. “We’ve suffered enough, haven’t we? If we have the chance to finally be happy…”
“Not at his expense. Not with everything it’ll cost him,” Jeremiah said, a small growl coming from his chest. His hound was fighting tooth and nail against it, but he wouldn’t let it win. He couldn’t. He took a breath, then stepped forward and knocked, waiting to be let in.
* * *
Jeremiah woke to an alien sensation—warmth against his back and something tight around his waist. He felt a single moment of panic, ripped back to his past as a vulnerable child afraid of what might happen to him when he slept. Then he remembered.
He felt something in his chest, almost like the beat of a second heart, and warm breath ghosting along the side of his neck. He stretched out his arm, extending his claws for a second before pulling his beast back and laying his palm over Remi’s. The Siren was clinging to him like he was afraid to let go, and Jeremiah had no words to describe how that made him feel.
He saved people for a living, yes, but people rarely considered him safe. He was a Hellhound—a pariah. He was the scourge of the earth in the eyes of most beings, but Remi looked at him like he was worth something.
Shifting onto his side, Remi groaned and loosened his grip a little before blinking his eyes open. They were a little foggy and red from sleep, but as their focus sharpened, his lips curled into a smile.
Jeremiah was unused to anyone looking at him like that either.
“Morning,” Remi said, his voice rough and thick with sleep. As worried as Jeremiah had been about him staying the night in his room, he was grateful beyond words to have any extra time together he could get.
Jeremiah leaned forward, helpless to do anything except kiss him. His mind wandered back to the night before—to when he finally made it back to the room after confirming with the royals that they were comfortable with Priest and with him accompanying Remi to pick up the twins before heading to Hillsland. Remi had been waiting for him, flat on his back in Jeremiah’s bed, completely naked, his hand around his cock.
It had taken all of Jeremiah’s control not to half shift, pin him with teeth, and fuck him until neither of them could speak. Instead, he’d slowly undressed, enjoying the tortured way Remi had moaned, the way he squirmed at being forced into patience.
He was a prince used to getting his way, a brat used to instant gratification, and Jeremiah could only dream of having years of tormenting him. There was nothing better than begging words falling from Remi’s lips like an unrestrained waterfall.
The sex hadn’t been as intense as it had been in the water, but Jeremiah had lost himself at the end, and he’d bitten Remi again. He hadn’t popped a knot—he had no idea what that even meant, and it wasn’t something he could think about just yet—but his tongue lapped up the sweet Siren blood until nothing but fresh, pink skin remained.
