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My eyes shifted back to Alix to continue the showdown. “Magnus was punished for his crimes. He’s increased shipments to distributors, lost his own pay to make up for losses, rebuilt this camp, and has atoned for those sins. If you can’t let your need for revenge die, then perhaps you need to die.” I meant every fucking word—because no one crossed my brother. Fucking no one.
Alix kept a straight face, but it was obvious he was scared, judging by the way he didn’t have strength in his gaze anymore. There was no sinister smile, no confidence in his posture. His shoulders sagged, like he wanted to disappear.
I turned to look at my brother head on. Terror. Rage. Trauma. Eric and Nathan must have held him down in the cabin while Alix dragged her away. I turned back to Alix. “This has been going on a while, hasn’t it?”
I spoke to Alix, but I was actually speaking to my brother.
Silence.
I shifted my gaze back to Magnus.
His mouth was shut tight.
Alix looked at him, like he knew Magnus would throw him under the bus.
But he didn’t.
I looked at Alix again. “He’s not a snitch. Looks like it’s your lucky day, Alix.” My knife was sheathed. “I won’t pretend to understand my brother’s fascination with this unremarkable cunt, but as long as she is his, she’s off-limits. Do you understand?”
Alix nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“The only reason I won’t kill you is because Magnus stirred unrest in this camp. But you’re even now. Cross my brother again, and I won’t hesitate to kill you.” I turned to see the guards on the porch of the cabin and raised my voice. “All of you.” I stepped away and moved to my brother, ignoring Raven altogether, and nodded in the direction of my cabin. Then I took the lead, knowing he would follow.
We made it into my cabin, and after we took our seats and poured our scotch, the guards brought my dinner—a well-done steak with potatoes and asparagus. The guard dismissed himself, and we were surrounded in solitude once more.
Magnus was quiet, as if he needed time to process what had just happened.
I was hungry, so I cut into my steak and shoved pieces into my mouth.
Magnus stared at me, his palms together. “Thank you. I know you probably did it for Melanie, but—”
“No.” I shook my head. “I did it for you.”
Magnus stilled at my admission, his eyes filling with a look of gratitude. “Then I appreciate it even more.”
I was so pissed at Melanie right now that I couldn’t see straight. I didn’t want to save her sister. I didn’t want to spare someone who would never spare me. But I did it for her, too—even if I wouldn’t admit it. “How long has this been going on?”
We talked about the events in the camp as I ate my dinner, washing it down with scotch that hit me harder than usual because I had weaned myself off it. My plate was wiped clean, so I sat with my glass in hand.
“You didn’t bring Melanie with you.”
“No.” I took a drink.
He must have detected my tone because he said, “Everything alright?”
I pictured the way she’d sobbed in front of me in my bedroom, pleading for me to be someone I wasn’t. “Just need some space.”
Magnus let it go, and our conversation turned to Napoleon. When I returned to Paris, we both had an event where he would attend. My brother couldn’t contain his objection and reminded me once again that it wasn’t a good fit.
I didn’t care.
“I’d like to bring Raven, if that’s okay.”
My eyes narrowed on his face. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but Raven doesn’t hold a candle to Stasia, so I have to ask…what’s wrong with your dick?” His expression remained hard, doing his best to keep back his offense. “I don’t think Melanie is as remarkable as you claim.”
I couldn’t suppress the grin on my face because I didn’t believe that for a second. Melanie was the best cut of meat, but I’d beat him to the punch. He was stuck with the cut no one else wanted.
“Raven would like to see her.”
“Yeah, bet she would.” I set down my glass and released a long, drawn-out breath. I didn’t want to see Raven in any capacity, but after what my brother just had to go through, I wanted to honor any request he made. “Fine.”
He couldn’t hide the look of surprise on his face. It quickly turned into a look of gratitude.
Silence lingered. I nursed the scotch with my lips, my eyes on the unlit fireplace. When Melanie woke up and realized I’d gone, she would probably be angry with me. After I returned home, she would probably ignore me the way I ignored her. I hated that cold shoulder. I hated that anger in her eyes. But if she didn’t want me to leave, she shouldn’t have demanded something I’d never offered. I never pretended to be anything less than what I was. My honesty was prevalent in every word, every look, every touch.
