Chapter 37 I reel back, stars exploding across my vision. For a split second, I see three tiny dots arranged in a perfect line. Not the constellation overhead, but the one that lives on Vesper's cheek. The birthmarks I've memorized in the dark. I hear shuffling, muttering, but I raise my hand to ward them off. "No." I shake my head, clearing the fog as Pavel and Osip are already halfway into the ring. "Stay back. This is between us." Standing over me, Waylen flexes his fingers, rolling his shoulders like he's just getting started. His face is stormy and furious. "What the hell are you playing at, Kovan? What do you get out of this?" "My nephew." I work my jaw and taste hot copper. "I need Vesper to help me get custody." "Right. I see. Because a stable relationship makes you look like father material to the powers that be. That's so transparent and manipulative; I'd call it shameless if it wasn't so disgusting at the same time." His voice drips acid. "Does she know that's all she is to you? A prop?" "She knows everything." I spit blood out. One of my teeth feels slightly ajar. All in all, it was a good punch. "I didn't trick her into this." "You dangled an abused kid in front of her, asshole." Waylen's hands curl into fists. "Of course she said yes." "She's getting something out of it, too." "What she's getting is attached. I see it every time I look at her, and it needs to stop." I close my eyes for a moment as a wave of unnamable emotion surges through me. Because he's right. I've watched it happen. She looks at Luka like he's already hers. She defended me against Yana as if she had the right to fight by my side. She feels like she belongs. "That's her problem," I force out. "I've been clear about where I stand." "You fucking⁠-" I drive my fist into Waylen's stomach before he can finish the cross. He doubles over but doesn't go down, eyes still locked on mine. "Watch your mouth when you talk to your boss," I growl at him. It's his turn to spit onto the canvas at our feet. "The only reason I took this job was to keep an eye on Vesper, you know." "How's that going for you?" Waylen roars and charges. I sidestep easily, already reading his next move before he makes it. "Should we stop this?" Pavel calls from the ropes. "Not yet," Osip replies, sounding entertained. "Both of you stay out of this," I order. I turn back to the elder Fairfax and lower into my stance. "Go on then. Tell me what you really feel." "For fuck's sake, douche bag, this isn't about me and you. Stop trying to make it that way." Waylen circles, breathing hard. "Truth be told, I don't give a damn what you think of me. The only thing I care about is my sister." I'll give him this: I'm starting to respect the kid. Doesn't mean I won't knock him on his ass, but I think more highly of him than I did when we first met. As he tries to bully his way past my defense, I chop down on the meat of his shoulder with a vicious elbow. He hits the mat face-first but springs back up immediately and dances out of range. "Nice shot." He favors his right side now. "Too bad you're still a coward." I blink. "What did you just say?" "You heard me. When things got real with Vesper, you took the easy way out. Pushed her away before she could get too close." He feints left, then right. "I had a lot of opinions about you from the jump, Kovan, but I never thought you were scared of a five-foot-seven doctor." Something snaps. A thread of self-control, or maybe of self-delusion. I rush him. I don't bother with punches anymore-we're past that. Instead, putting all my bulk to use, I knock his fists aside and go for his throat. In the heat of my rage, it's all too easy to get an arm around his head. As I start to squeeze, I snarl, "You don't know anything about me." "I know enough." His voice comes out strangled. "I know you're hurting her." "Kovan." Pavel cuts through the red haze. "He's turning blue." "Coward," rasps Waylen. "F-fucking c-coward..." I should let go. I know I should let go. But every word out of his mouth is a knife between my ribs, and I want him to shut up, to shut up, to shut the fuck up. I want him to stop saying things that are true. Because nothing he's said is a lie. And for the first time in my life, I don't have a defense. Before I can make up my mind, strong hands yank me backward. I release Waylen, but I react instinctively to the others, headbutting Osip hard enough to break his grip, then spinning around ready to do damage to Pavel. But I freeze when I find Pavel kneeling beside Waylen, who's gasping and coughing in the center of the ring, hacking up more blood. What the hell am I doing? If I kill her brother, Vesper will never forgive me. I force myself to step back, to walk the perimeter of the ring until my breathing evens out. By my tenth lap, the rage has simmered down to cold, dead ash. I feel fucking miserable. Waylen looks like he needs oxygen. Pavel helps him sit up. In the other corner, Osip pinches his bleeding nose and scowls. "Not the first time he's broken it," Osip mutters to himself. "It's an improvement, trust me," Pavel calls over to him. I ignore them both and approach Waylen, who's still coughing. "You're out of shape. You need to train harder if you're going to protect my nephew." He pounds his chest, fighting for air. "Does this mean I'm not fired?" he rasps sarcastically. "I don't like you," I tell him honestly. "And I don't want you here. But... Luka does. He's lost enough people in his life already. I won't be responsible for him losing another." Waylen leans forward, elbows on his knees. Every inhale looks like it hurts him, but he has a grim tightness in his jaw that says he'll die before he admits that out loud. "I respect that you want to protect him. That's all I'm trying to do for my sister." With that, the last of the fight goes out of me. I drop to a seat across from him and shuck off my gloves. "Luka's a child. Vesper's a grown woman." "Doesn't matter. You love who you love, no matter how old they are." He meets my eyes. "When Luka's thirty and six-foot-five, you'll feel exactly the same way about him as you do now." He's right, and I hate him for it. I reach through the ropes to grab a water bottle from the bench and hand it to him. He studies it like it might be poisoned before taking it. He drains half the bottle before speaking again. "Vesper deserves better." "Than me?" "Than any of this." He gestures around us. "She might seem like she has everything together, but at the end of the day, she's still the same girl who lost her father and never got over it." "So you appointed yourself her bodyguard?" "I made my father a promise before he died. I told him I'd always look out for her." He gets quiet. "I'd have done it anyway, but the promise makes it sacred." I look at him through new eyes. Quietly, I ask, "What do you want from me, Waylen?" He doesn't hesitate. "I want you to stay away from her. She needs someone who'll make her the center of his world, and you've got too many other priorities." He holds up a hand when I start to protest. "But I know you won't listen to that. And I know she won't, either. Vesper's stubborn as hell when she wants something. So if you're going to be in her life, treat her right. If you want her, you need to fucking earn her." I clear my throat. "I don't want her." Waylen stands, still holding the water bottle. He looks down at me with something that might be pity. "Yeah. Keep telling yourself that."