"Do 'you'? What do you mean, James?" Eiran tilted his head, curiosity piqued.
"James," Zayden's voice snapped, his gaze sharp and threatening.
His glare made James flinch instantly. The last time he saw such an expression was when James was caught spying.
"I-I'm sorry!" James stammered, bowing his head.
"Cover his ears." Zayden handed Eiran to Ren.
Although confused, Ren acted quickly, hands flying to cover the boy's ears. He held them tightly, mindful of Eiran's small frame. It was the first time Zayden had asked him to do this—after all, Ren had already developed it into a habit.
"Don't say things like that in front of my child. Fill his head with dirt, and I will not forgive it," Zayden said, his voice sharp. A grin tugged at his lips, as if he were trying to suppress the urge to strike. He couldn't Eiran an ugly sight, or else—he paused.
Why am I getting so worked up?
He questioned himself, unable to find an answer. This was unlike him.
