"What is it?" she asked, becoming alarmed.

"I've realized things about us, about the way…about the way I feel, and I never want to hurt you. I am going back to—" He fell silent and tensed visibly, then turned back to the door, his body rigid and protective in front of her. His hand went behind him under his coat and rested on a pistol she hadn't known was there.

One of the front doors flew open, and MacCarrick relaxed the hand on his gun.

"Aleix?" He was well! He was here! She ran to hug him.

"Are you all right?" Aleix demanded as he took her shoulders to study her. "Are you unhurt?"

"Yes, I'm very well," she assured him. Seeming convinced of her well-being, his attention focused on MacCarrick. Aleix looked as though he'd kill him. "Now, Aleix, let me explain—" A figure drew Annalia's gaze. She turned back to the door, gaping. "Olivia?"

At that moment, Aleix charged MacCarrick, who met him, the two like animals after each other's throats as they fell into vases, pummeling each other. Oh, God, she didn't want either one hurt!

"You filthy Scot," her brother bellowed. "You put me in Pascal's prison, then you take my sister? You are about to die."

Wait, Court put Aleix in prison?…He'd said he didn't. He'd said he never attacked them—"Oh!" She put her hand over her mouth. He never said he hadn't fought against Aleix.

"Enough!" Everyone froze. Annalia slowly peered over her shoulder to find a man—an older version of Court, but for the twisting scar running down his face. This must be Ethan. If possible he was more menacing than Courtland and Hugh.

Hugh strode in. Annalia heard Olivia mutter in Spanish, "Terrifying, petrifying, and horrifying."

"Court, I doona care who you're fighting or why," Ethan said. "Do it outside the house."

Court gave him a grim nod, then looked at Aleix. Aleix turned for the door.

When the sound of the fight ensued, she and Olivia started after them.

"Stop. Now," Ethan said to them, his voice low and threatening.

She stopped and noticed Olivia did as well as they both turned back.

"But we can't let this happen," Olivia said.

"They'll kill each other!" Annalia cried.

"No, they won't." When Ethan spoke she felt compelled to believe him. She relaxed marginally until he added, "Court will undoubtedly thrash him."

Both gasped. Annalia's hand went to her forehead. Olivia scanned the room, no doubt for a weapon, the little witch.

"Is no one pulling for my brother?"

Annalia could have sworn that this amused Ethan, not that you could tell by the granite expression on his face. Maybe the skin around his eyes wasn't as tight. His jaw not so clenched.

"No," she and Olivia said in unison, then glared at each other.

"I canna wait to have these dynamics explained to me. Shall I tear Court off your beloved…?" He trailed off, expecting them to answer.

"Aleix! His name is Aleix, and he's my brother. And yes, you should."

"He's my fiance and you should, but not because he needs you to," Olivia quickly added.

"No, indeed he doesn't," Annalia sniffed. A split second later: "Fiance?"

While she restrained herself from clawing the witch's eyes out, the older MacCarrick walked outside, in a leisurely stride.

Minutes later, both men returned behind him, wet from the drizzle. Aleix's nose and lip bled, and both his eye and cheek were swelling. MacCarrick had no such marks, but then he was a professional killer….

"Get in the carriage, Annalia," Aleix said between breaths. "I'm taking you away from here." To MacCarrick, he said, "When I get her safe, I'll come back to finish this. Make your peace."

When she didn't move, Aleix took her hand. She pulled it free to march in front of MacCarrick. "Please tell me you didn't put my brother in Pascal's jail."

His gaze was locked on hers. "I canna do that."

"Why did you never tell me? You said you didn't attack them. And I believed you."

After a long pause, he grated, "They—attacked—us," every word as though pulled from him.

"It doesn't matter," Aleix said from behind them. "You jailed us. You kept us from killing Pascal."

"Jailed, aye. No' killed," MacCarrick bit out. "You brought us farmers and ranchers. It would have been a slaughter." She knew he didn't often give explanations for his actions and was surprised that he would do it now.

"We were closing in on Pascal."

"You were closing in on the Rechazados protecting Pascal. Putting you in jail saved your lives. Ask Pascal's daughter."

With obvious reluctance, Olivia said, "It's true."

Aleix gave him a disgusted look. "I would rather have risked it than have my people suffering." He offered Annalia his hand again. "Come with me before he decides to ransom you."

She waited for MacCarrick to interrupt him. To argue with him. He did nothing, just stood watching her. Her heart hammered so loud she wondered if everyone could hear it.

"Now, Annalia," Aleix told her in Catalan. "Leave your things and come with me."

MacCarrick had sworn he would get her to her brother. His task was complete. And though she'd thought they had made a commitment to each other, he'd never asked her to marry him and they'd never talked of the future. You're mine, he'd said like a vow.

Obviously, he'd done the same twisting of the truth that he'd done concerning the fight with her brother. You're mine. For a time.

Shoulders back, she walked to him. "You said you'd get me safely to my brother."

"So I did."

"Have you nothing else to say?" When he stood silent, she said, "Then thank you." Don't cry, don't cry! She offered her hand. "I appreciate your…help."

He didn't take her hand. He didn't take it and use it to draw her against his solid chest as he told everyone else to go to hell. Her heart hurt as though she'd been stabbed. His brothers stood near him with silent, icy demeanors. Their understood ruthlessness and will highlighted those same aspects in Courtland. She'd never had a chance with him. A man couldn't change his nature.

She'd worried about the decision she would have to make, but it had never been about her choice. He would let her go, and she was about to burst into tears.

"Very well," she murmured as she turned for her brother. "I'm ready."

Anna's walking away from me. Court couldn't think or reason beyond that.

He'd hurt her, then made reparations as best as he was able. He needed to get her away before he hurt her again. Next time he might not be able to fix the problem. Death and torment… The shining cover dared him to defy it.

She glanced over her shoulder, not pleadingly, but as if to memorize him. Then turned away. He tensed, hands clenching, barely preventing himself from acting on the command echoing inside him: Get Anna.

Behind him, Hugh must have noticed, because he said in a low voice, "You have to do this for her. Let her go with her family."

Her brother shepherded her away, already protecting her. Damn it, that was Court's responsibility. That was his right.

She was his.

Ethan put a hand on his shoulder. Coming from Ethan it was a threatening gesture instead of comforting, and both of them knew it.

He turned to the two. Hugh frowned at Court's face as if confounded. Ethan took one look at him and scowled more, if possible. Court felt mad, crazed, and knew he looked it. "Only until I make sure she's safe," he said with difficulty.

"A woman like that doesn't belong with a man like you. Even if we weren't shadowed."

"You're killing her, Court," Hugh said. "Just like we killed Leith."

"Wait."

She stopped in her tracks so fast her skirts surged forward.

At this she heard Hugh mutter, "Christ." Ethan hissed a startlingly vile curse, then said in warning, "Courtland…"