But who am I to judge?
No other Sentinel would’ve survived Remy’s level of damage, let alone survived it multiple times through multiple lives.
My memory isn’t close to photographic, but I hada lotof time to read history books in the years I was ignored. The name Remington Azrid appears so many places, in so many eras, I kind of thought it was inherited.
Azrid is as cagey as the other ducal houses. They never share details about their bloodline powers with outsiders.
I’m not sure if Remy considers me an outsider now.
“How many times have you died and revived?” I ask as I caress his soul.
“Hundreds,” Remy answers dreamily. “My first death came at my father’s hands. Then in battles. At war. By my allies’ swords. By fire and claws. By?—”
“That’s enough. I— I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” I guide his soul back on track, using my glow to burn off the toxic memories that weight his silks in tar.
No wonder he’s fracturing.
I’m a different woman after a bad breakup and a new job.
There’s no way I’d feel like the same Iris if I lived and died a hundred violent lives. “Whether you’re Remy or Remington or Sword Major Azrid, I’m still your Guide. If you don’t know which voice to listen to, listen to mine. I won’t let you hurt yourself.”
“What if the old Remington never returns?” He breathes shallowly. His thoughts jitter. “What if he can’t be allowed to return?”
“Honestly? I never met the guy.” I stroke his cheekbone with my thumb. “I’m tired of titles, anyway. Just be Remy and not a duke.”
Anyone else could take over the Farguard.
It’s most important that he be whole.
His sigh brushes my eyelashes. “But Remy is out of control.”
“Not anymore.” I press his slightly cool chest. “Not when I’m here.”
“Then you’ll have to stay with me.”
My stomach swoops.
I’m so weak to this kind of need—the kind that feels permanent and requires a whole lot of trust and responsibility.
The kind that screams long-term commitment.
“I wasn’t planning on leaving.”It’s never me who leaves.
“I must have fallen into a dream,” Remy whispers and caresses my throat. “I shouldn’t be allowed to touch you.”
“Says who?”
“The old Remington. He learned at my father’s knee.” Shadows darken his eyes. “We’re taught that all monsters are to be put down. Including ourselves.”
The Azrids areallmonsters.
That’s why they survived.
That’s whywesurvived—every pure human left owes the Sentinels that debt. “It’s time to update the Azrid family values. No one has thought that way since the first spawn.”
“My father was born in that era.”
“Remy.” I suck in a coppery breath. “Who’s your father?”