“And it ends today,” he roared, striding toward Ella, his fists as tight as his scowl. Instinct screamed at her to crouch low and cover her head, but she kept herself straight, drawing on courage and dignity as the only things she still possessed. One hit from the charging man’s fist and she might very well have her wish to die. Her heart pounded, giving her legs the power to run, but there was nowhere to go.

In a rush, Cain intercepted his brother, yanking him around in a massive display of strength. He shoved his brother back and continued toward her. A lesser man would have fallen on his arse at the power in Cain’s thrust, but Joshua merely took two steps to catch his balance.

Cain caught her to him, holding her before him with an arm under her breasts. “She is mine,” he said, the three simple words filling the room. “No one shall touch Ella Sutherland other than me.” And for the moment, she was grateful for it.

“Fok, Cain,” Joshua said, walking in a tight circle as if his pent-up energy demanded he stride.

“Da is dead, and I am the chief,” Cain said. “We will all play our parts.”

Joshua threw his hands up and let them drop, piercing Cain with his gaze where he stopped. “As ye bloody wish,” Joshua said, his teeth showing as his mouth pulled back in a snarl-like smile. “But we win this war with slaughter tomorrow.”

“We win this war with a formal betrothal and posting of banns,” Cain countered.

Ella forced herself to breathe, the feel of Cain’s grip like iron against her ribs. Would her wildly thumping heart give away her fear? She steadied herself and opened her dry lips. “I choose death.”

Everyone stared at her in a long silence. Did they not think her brave enough to wish for death over wedding her mortal enemy and giving them a solid claim to her castle and clan? “You said there were two choices,” she said, turning and tipping her face up to look at Cain. From directly under him, she could see the strong lines of his stubbled jaw and the strength in his neck. Lord, the man was all muscle. She swallowed. “And I choose death.”

“Only two choices?” the brother with the wrapped arm, who must be Gideon, asked.

“Why Death?” Joshua asked and turned to the fourth brother in the skull mask, the anger on his face dropping away to surprise. “He is still but a boy.” A wicked grin surfaced through the hate on his face. “Ye should choose someone with some skill and brawn.”

The fourth brother ripped off his cloak, leaving the skull mask still tied to the front of his face. He whipped something through the air. Whack. The blade of a mattucashlass stuck into the table next to Joshua’s hand. The older brother just grinned without moving.