Page 56 of Above Cursed Winds

Myko, not one for reading the room, positively glowed.

“Father’s here, mom!”

Jeremiah realized the boy worshiped his father, and he could only hope the Raeth was worthy of the high praise.

“Sehrin.” One of Zia’s brows arched upward in question. “I wasn’t aware you were coming.”

“Must I inform you of my comings and goings?”

Jeremiah straightened, barely resisting the urge to growl at the male’s crass response. These were family matters, and he tried to reel back the temper that’d begun to flame.

“I’d appreciate a little warning, yes.”

Sehrin’s snide smirk was the only warning he gave before his hand fisted on the back of Zia’s braid and pulled downward. When her chin raised, Sehrin claimed her lips without apology, possessively stealing what was clearly a forced kiss.

Jeremiah bristled, but before he could reach and arm out and shove Sehrin away from her, the other man retreated of his own accord. Sehrin raised his haughty gaze to Jeremiah, the smug intent all too clear: Zia was his.

Her cheeks burned red, but not with pleasure. A splash of anger registered on her features, but before she could speak, Sehrin cut her off.

“And where are you staying, Jeremiah? Surely, they have such an honored guest somewhere nicer than this?”

“Nicer than this?” Jeremiah scoffed. “You mean your son’s home?”

Brushing off the contempt, Sehrin looped a possessive arm around Zia’s waist and jerked her into his side with all the territoriality of a snarling tiger. “Well, you can’t be staying here, now can you? Unfinished bedrooms, only one working bathroom.”

“Two,” the Elemental growled. “Zia and I finished it days ago.”

Sehrin’s condescending laugh conceded: “Two, then.”

“We have an extra condo on clan lands.” Zia didn’t meet Jeremiah’s eyes, and she didn’t shrug out of Sehrin’s possessive grip. “Jeremiah was staying there. And when Myko took a shine to Jeremiah, he offered to help get the house in better shape.”

The immediate denial of their relationship hit hard. Jeremiah couldn’t lie to himself any longer that what they’d shared had meant anything to her. A hollowing sensation expanded behind his breastbone, and he could only stare at Zia while the conversation progressed.

“Perhaps the time would’ve been better served getting Myko’s gifts in line.” Casting an admonishing look to his son—who cringed—Sehrin rolled his shoulders lazily. “Well, I’m starved. Zia, make that pork roast I like. And rice pilaf. You’re dismissed, Jeremiah.”

“Been a real pleasure meeting you, Sorren.”

An intentional snub, but one that the male Raeth didn’t respond to. Without another word, Sehrin strode from the foyer, grabbing Myko’s arm when his son hesitated and pulling him along after him.

Alone with Zia, he couldn’t find it in himself to be upset with her for minimizing what had taken place between them. Sehrin was her child’s father; she had every reason to protect her relationship with him. The fact that the clanless Raeth had manhandled her only made Jeremiah infuriated on her behalf, but he was, at best, an intruder in their dynamics and may not have the right picture.

“Enjoy the time with your family, Zia.” The words tasted chalky on his tongue, and he could barely resist spitting them out without disdain. “Myko clearly looks up to his dad.”

She cleared her throat. “Myko loves him. He idolizes him.” Zia’s fists absently banged against her sides in a nervous tick before she finally met his eyes. “I—I’ll see you in a bit, okay?”

Another dismissal, this one far sharper than the clanless bully giving him orders in a house that wasn’t even his.

Jeremiah left. Outside, the wind whistled sharply, cutting across his cheekbones and exposed skin. He didn’t do anything about it.

***

Three hours passed while he killed time. The dome where Zia and Nero’s offices were housed also held a game room and lounge area, complete with a coffee spot that had surprisingly good joe. After tinkering with Nero’s technology for an hour or so, he caught up on emails. When he finally couldn’t put it off any longer, he did what he’d promised.

The first call he made was to Isaiah. The Raeth answered on the first ring, his voice sounding smug. “I know someone’s who’s looking for you.”

“Golly gee, I wonder who,” Jeremiah bit back, then remembered his purpose. “I have a favor to ask of you.”

“You have a favor to ask of me? What could you possibly ask that I’d give you?”

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