Erik’s lips twisted. “Listen to the family bulldog—the Enforcer. You’re just the old man’s lapdog now, aren’t you?”
“And you’re his bitch.”
The swing came from nowhere and planted hard in Seth’s left cheek. He could’ve stopped it and chose not to do so. Sometimes, feeling pain was better than feeling nothing. Fire flared along his skin. Stars exploded behind his eyes. With a growl, he slammed both hands against Erik’s shoulders and shoved.
His brother flew backward to land on his ass and skid several feet. His hands windmilled and then slapped the wet leaves, trying to stop his slide.
“Stay down,” Seth growled, fury clenching his hands into fists. He’d been out of sorts since meeting Mia, and his body wanted a fight. His heart did not. “I mean it, Erik.”
“Fuck you.” Erik leapt up and slammed his head into Seth’s gut in a hard tackle, sending them both sprawling into the bushes. His fists flew faster than his spewing words. “You might have five years on me, old man, but I’m all grown, brother.”
Seth blocked several punches to his face and shot his forehead into his brother’s cheek. “Then act like it.” Asshole. It wasn’t like being thirty made him old. He shoved Erik hard in the chest, putting power into it but not enough to break bones.
Erik spun end over end, slowly rising and brushing off his pants. Fury lit his eyes but failed to hide the torment glowing there. “If I acted like it, I’d have to kill you.” With a low growl, he turned and ran back for the forest, increasing his speed until he was just a blur.
Seth stretched to his feet, wiping blood off his forehead and ignoring a sharp pang of loss as he eyed the now-empty trail. “I know.”
He turned and started running north, his mind on his brother as he spat blood from his cut lip. He wouldn’t be able to harm Erik—so he’d probably have to die. The inevitability of that fact spurred him to run faster, to enjoy the smell of the night while he could.
Another scent floated on the breeze, the one he’d been trying to vanquish. His feet turned of their own accord. He all but flew down the mountain, skirting the lake.
Then he saw her.
Chapter4
Seth caught his breath at seeing the woman who wouldn’t leave his thoughts.
Mia sat on the weathered deck, a cup in her hand, her gaze on the moonlight dancing across the water as it peeked between the clouds. She’d pulled her long, brown hair into a ponytail, showcasing classic cheekbones in a pale face. The darkness veiled the deep green of her eyes. She sighed.
Lonely.
Sad.
Stunning.
When he’d been young, very young, his mama had read him a book about a lost princess. She was beautiful and brave in a way that had haunted the hero…mainly because he couldn’t have her. He couldn’t save her.
Mia was a lost princess.
She perched silently in one of the worn wicker chairs, her bare feet on the wooden railing that skirted the deck. Her toenails were painted a light pink, only enhancing the fragility he saw in her. The cabin lay dark and quiet behind her. The strong scents of vanilla and woman wafted between them.
He silently crossed between pine trees, the shadows hiding him. He belonged in the darkness, while she should be in the light and not outside by herself. Did she have any idea the kinds of predators hunting the woods? Irritation clawed at him that she’d be so careless with her safety. If she were his, they’d be having a difficult discussion right now.
His entire body jolted. His? There was no way he could make the lovely agent his. The beast at his core roared in protest, and he shut it down. Hard. Unable to help himself, he nevertheless moved a little closer to her.
She stiffened, her gaze sharpening as she scanned the forest. Her feet dropped from the railing to the planks.
Good instincts there.
Slowly, he moved into the dim light, hands at his sides. It was impossible for him to look harmless, but he did his best, not wanting to spook her.
The sight of her lifting a gun from the bench next to her brought him up short. Against all rational thought, all need to survive, he smiled. His chest warmed, and his groin hardened. Need blasted through him with shocking heat. “I won’t hurt you.”
The woman stood, the gun pointed at him with steady hands. She was half his size and fragile, but her aim was true. “I may hurt you.”
As words went, they had power. Icy fingers rippled down his spine. His chest chilled. Even so, he couldn’t find it within himself to hide from her. “It’d be worth it,” he whispered.
She tilted her head, her shoulders stiff, her stance set. “What did you say?”
