Lovers' Tussle by India-Jean Louwe Page B

welcomed him into the heat of seething rage. He bit down on his own tongue. The coppery flavor only served to inflame his beast more. But as reckless as the conflict was within him, he refused to show his reaction on the surface and hid behind a gentlemanly facade. Roth had every right to gloat, while he deserved every manner of hurtful goading. It was little torment compared to the loss of Roth by his hand. He voice was rugged and broken. “You can have Tienna.” Every pore within him raged against that statement, but honor dictated he make it.
    Roth eyed him with a cunning smile. “I believe I also heard mention of replacing me in hell. Now that I have returned, when will you depart to take my place?”
    Had Roth heard all his pitiful pleas? By the smug expression he wore on his face, he believed he had. Bloody hell . “I am neither coward nor brave enough to seek out my own death, but I will honor the vow to leave. I took an oath over your spilled blood and accept the decree as binding.”
    If he expected Roth to be merciful, he would have been wrong. His ruthlessness cut right to the bone. “Capital idea. I bid you adieu,” he added in a contrite voice. “It is for the best, you know.”
    Aiden grunted as he turned his back on his brother. His brother’s expression was anything but contrite. Why, he looked positively gleeful. Roth was a treacherous bandit. He would take what he wanted on whatever terms he could get it. Did it matter that his panicked oath was made under duress? And even more insane, for the saving of his life? Apparently not. Some words could not be recalled just as some actions could not be undone. He had inflicted his brother’s wounds that had almost led to his demise, and he would honor the utterances he’d made in desperation.
    He did not mind a contest for her hand with anyone else but Roth. How often did Tienna plan on pitting the brothers against each other? He was no fool. He knew that it had been a callous plot made by her to begin with. But would the outcome of the next attack be too fatal to reverse?
    Besides that, Roth was right. Tienna was better off without him. She had battled hard by the sounds of it to bring Roth back, while she was already avoiding him. Who could say his hands would not one day be stained with her blood? Perhaps she already understood the risk he rendered, a threat to her very life. It was not a chance he was willing to take. He had no choice but to leave.
     
    * * * *
     
    Tienna could hardly quell her excitement as she stepped into the clearing. At first she had been too ashamed to communicate with Aiden. He had every right to be angry with her. Her only defense was that she did not know that they were brothers before pitting them against each other. And then the heat of her shame had cooled into a bone-chilling, terrifying fear. She did not want to hear that she had been unsuccessful, that Roth was lost.
    But his strong, compelling voice had drifted to her on a night after a much too long wait. She had accomplished little in the days she had waited. To be honest, the only constructive thing she had done was demand Matthew’s immediate removal from the pack. At least in that quarter she had been successful. Her father was many things, but he was fair when it came to honor. Matthew had no right in interfering. And while he had bowed to her wish on the matter, he had not taken the news of her heroic rescue well. Christian Hawthorne Sterling had been livid. She, coward that she’d turned, had been avoiding him like the plague.
    Roth appeared before her every bit as glorious as the first night she had seen him. She studied his body anxiously, seeking some sign of weakness. There was none. He looked all dangerous and powerful, cloaked in the darkness of the devil in a well-tailored coat and snug pants, hair wildly abandoned, and the wicked leather of his boots and belt beckoning in the soft moonlight. But what caught and held her attention, between loose,