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Jeremiah bristled. “What do you know?”
Ozias shrugged. “Like I said, I try not to listen, but sometimes I can’t help it. It’s not safe to talk here though.”
Jeremiah bit his lip, then glanced around before nodding. “Give me your number. I’m going to put you in touch with a member of my team, and you can speak with him when you’re certain you’re safe.”
Ozias nodded, and it was clear from the expression on his face that he was taking Jeremiah seriously. “Whatever you need. I really care about him, but more than that, he’s being targeted because of who he is. And if they can get to a crown prince…”
He didn’t finish the sentence, but Jeremiah didn’t need him to.
None of them would be safe.
* * *
Jeremiah was reeling from his meeting with Ozias, but he’d sent his contact info to Knight, who promised he’d follow up on any leads the Nephilim gave them. It wasn’t much, but it was something, and Jeremiah could only hope that Ozias knew something they didn’t.
He sent a text to Remi when he finally got to the building where his prince’s last class was, but he waited fifteen minutes for a reply before getting something he wasn’t expecting.
Remi: Left early. See you at home.
Jeremiah’s heart started pounding in his chest, and he knew his speed was terrifying to humans, but he stopped giving a shit as he raced for the apartment. He fumbled with the key to get in but eventually made it to their floor and burst inside, only to find it empty.
He grabbed a pillow from the couch to muffle his roar before he calmed himself and dialed Remi. It rang three times, and he was half expecting it to go to voicemail before the prince picked up.
“I said I’d meet you at home.” His voice was calm, but Jeremiah knew him well enough to tell it was faked. He could also hear what sounded like that dickbag Thad in the background, egging Remi on.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Jeremiah demanded. “Where are you?”
“Out with friends,” Remi said, voice firming, but there was a shaky edge to it that was setting off Jeremiah’s instincts. “W-without my leash.”
Jeremiah swallowed heavily. He knew this was a lot for Remi, but that didn’t sound like him. At least, not the Remi he was falling for. The one who’d spent the last two weeks pressed as close to Jeremiah as he could get, smiling at him and constantly kissing him and sharing his thoughts and fears. “I don’t know if you think this is some kind of game, but you’re not going to waste your time or mine by trying to disappear on me. I can find you, and I will, but you’re the one who said you don’t want a scene.”
“Are you trying to threaten me?” Remi asked softly, the noise in the background growing fainter.
“Oh no, princeling. This is a fucking promise. Either I see your ass walk through this apartment door in five minutes with an apology and a promise that you won’t ever pull this shit again, or I’m going to treat you like a toddler in front of all your big-boy college friends.”
“You’re being a dick,” Remi spat.
Jeremiah laughed harshly. “No, I’m doing my job. Timer starts now.”
He hung up before he could destroy what fragile threads were left connecting them and started pacing, which was the only thing he could do to keep from flying out the door and tracking Remi down. He knew his prince by scent and could easily catch it on a breeze, but he didn’t trust himself to stay calm in front of all the humans.
He would make good on his promise, but if he had to go search his little brat out, it could ruin everything between them. He’d do it though. He’d do just about anything to keep him safe.
Three minutes passed. Then four.
At five, Jeremiah started to pull his jacket on, but just before he reached the door, it opened. Remi walked in, slamming it behind him, and something inside Jeremiah sparked.
One look at his frustrated, pouting face, and it began to burn like a raging wildfire.
He was on Remi without thinking, hand to his throat, pressing him against the wall. He buried his nose in Remi’s neck, taking in huge lungfuls of his coconut-and-ocean scent before letting his fangs drop to drag them over his favorite spot.
“The fuck?” Remi gasped, but he didn’t sound angry. He sounded horny, and Jeremiah was struggling not to give in to what his hound wanted.
To mark and possess and own.
“You don’t get to do that again,” Jeremiah growled.
Remi shoved at him, but it was half-hearted, and Jeremiah didn’t budge. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
