“Jamey,” a young voice called. “Jamey!”
James was on his feet a second later, hopping along the rocks and racing toward his youngest brother. The youngest prince was on the beach, beside James’s boots, and unharmed. Relief speared him.
“Michael, damn it. What are you doing out here? Until you’re older, you’re not supposed to be near the water on your own.”
The little boy screwed up his lips, all determination and courage. “I’m not on my own! You’re here.” A mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Damn it.” Just like that, James’s anger deflated. As always he could not stay angry with the scamp. Michael looked up to him, wanted to spend time with him, and James loved that. Loved him. Even though the boy had butchered his name while learning to speak, and his family sometimes still teased him wi
