Abel moves so fast, I never see it coming. He grabs the front of my shirt and swings me around to slam into the wall opposite the door I was just leaning on. The impact rattles me, and it rattles me worse when he jerks me forward and slams me back again. His face has gone cold. “I don’t need my cock to handle the Monroe problem, Broderick. This is a big house. Lot of stairs. Be a fucking shame if she fell down them and snapped that pretty neck of hers.”

I stare at him. We’re the same height, but he’s got more than a few pounds of muscle on me. That’s not the only difference between us. Abel is ruthless in a way I’ll never be able to match. He’s not bluffing. I swallow hard. “You’d risk breaking the treaty by killing her.”

“Fuck no.” He barely lets me get a breath out before he continues, “But accidents happen, and we can’t be liable. It’s a known fact that she likes to slip her handler so she can get into trouble. It’ll be a pain in the ass to deal with the fallout, but better that than have her making one of us the laughingstock of Sabine Valley. Our position is too precarious to allow it, and you’d realize that if you pulled your head out of your ass long enough to look around and take stock of the situation.”

“What the fuck, Abel?”

“Abel.” Eli is there, taking my brother’s shoulders and pulling him off me. Or at least trying to. “That’s enough.”

My brother gives me one last shake and releases me, stepping away and sliding his hands back into his pockets. He shrugs off Eli’s hands, but gives the man a look so sexually charged, it makes me mildly uncomfortable. When Abel speaks again, he sounds cold and perfectly composed. “No need to get so emotional, Broderick. If you’re not willing to solve the problem, then I will. I’ll do what I always do when it comes to our people—clean up their messes. Your mess this time. You’re welcome, by the way.” He turns and strides down the hallway, Eli easily falling into step beside him.

Trust Abel to cut to the heart of the situation without a shred of mercy.

Figure this shit out, or Monroe dies.

I should be grateful. She’s the enemy. Not to mention the whole seducing-Shiloh thing.

Except…

Shiloh’s right. Monroe was only nineteen when that shit went down eight years ago. She was heir, yes, but she’s not the one who made the call to ally with Eli’s father in his attempt to wipe our family off the face of the earth. I doubt she was part of the raiding party, either.