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“This was a bad idea,” I murmured, glancing toward Vincent.

Every instinct told me to turn around. Maybe I could leave the gifts. Maybe I could ask Martina to give them to her. The last thing I wanted to do was cause more friction, but it seemed like it existed even without me. I followed him through the living room to the back porch.

Sebastian happen to look up. The minute he saw me, he narrowed his eyes. Then he was charging forward.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

The question cracked through the air like a whip. Slowly, I drew in a breath. There was no point in looking for an escape. Not any more.

“I’m fighting for her. A man I consider a brother once told me that’s what you do for your soulmate.”

The words surprised even me with how steady they sounded. His lip curled.

“Over my fucking dead body. I’ll kill you. You should never have come.”

He swung. This time I was ready. My forearm caught his fist before it could connect, the impact jolting through my shoulder. I instinctively widened my stance, grounding myself the same way years of dance training had taught me. I refused to let go of his wrist.

“So be it. I guess you’ll have to be a man of your word. Kill me. Because I’m not leaving until I talk to her.”

I released him and took a single step back. A guttural roar tore from Sebastian. His second punch came harder. Faster. I slipped it aside before it landed.

“Enough!”

Alek was suddenly there, planting himself squarely between us before either of us could throw another punch.

“No one is killing anyone.”

Ivan’s massive hand landed on Alek’s chest, shoving him back. He shook his head.

“Let them work it out,” he hissed, never taking his eyes off Sebastian or me.

Alek looked at him like he’d lost his damn mind. Nik rose from his chair.

“Aye, they fight. Counselor, weigh in please.”

Marcel folded his arms across. “Aye.”

“I vote Aye, too,” Vincent said.

A heartbeat later, Christopher shrugged as though it was the most natural thing in the world. He shouted, “Aye.”

Sophia nodded. “Aye.”

Martina looked physically ill as she wrung her hands together and looked toward the house. “Aye,” she said.

Silence settled over the porch. Alek scrubbed a hand over his jaw, the muscle in his cheek twitching as he silently counted the votes. Then he exhaled through his nose.

“So be it. Last man standing gets the floor first. Keep it controlled, gentlemen.”

I rolled my shoulders once. Then again. The stiffness from two months of grief loosened just enough for adrenaline to take its place. Across from me, Sebastian bounced lightly on the balls of his feet.

I’d sparred with him enough over the years to recognize exactly what he was doing. We began circling one another. Neither of us spoke. The only sounds were the waves breaking against the shoreline and our boots shifting across weathered wood.

This fight was about more than us. It was about the shattered pieces of our family, the love we both had for Isabella. It was about the desperate need to find a way forward. And I wasn’t backing down. Not this time.

Sebastian moved first. His fist came hard and fast toward my jaw. I caught his forearm, redirected the strike, and immediately felt the vibration shoot through my shoulder.

“We don’t have to keep doing this,” I growled, firing a straight right that skimmed past his cheek as he twisted away.