"Enough!"
My voice cracked through the room as I stepped between them, pushing Marcus back behind me before I even realized what I was doing. Pain immediately shot through my shoulder from the movement, sharp enough to make me suck in a breath.
Marcus caught it instantly.
"Elena," he said sharply, his hand coming to my arm. "Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine," I bit out, though my shoulder throbbed angrily beneath my coat.
Across from us, something flickered across Garrick's face at my wince. Guilt, perhaps. Regret. But it vanished almost as quickly as it came, swallowed whole by the pride and obsession that had always driven him.
I straightened anyway, forcing myself to hold his gaze.
"You need to stop this," I said firmly. "It's over, Garrick. We ended things. You have to leave us alone."
For a moment, he simply stared at me.
Then slowly, he rose from the sofa, wiping the blood from beneath his nose with the back of his hand.
"You still don't understand," he said quietly.
My stomach tightened as he stepped closer. Instinctively, I backed away, only for Marcus's presence to remain solid behind me like a wall.
"My family believes Marcus is a curse upon our bloodline," Garrick said, stepping closer. "That everything began with him. The deaths. The betrayal. The ruin that followed after Rome failed to secure Britain properly."
I frowned. "What does that have to do with me?"
His expression shifted. "Everything."
Behind me, Marcus had gone completely still.
Garrick continued anyway.
"Before Marcus disappeared, Rome intended to end the rebellion permanently," he said. "Not through slaughter. Through union."
A cold feeling crept down my spine.
"There was supposed to be peace," Garrick said quietly. "Rome intended to secure Britain through alliance rather than endless war."
Marcus's expression darkened.
"There was a Briton family powerful enough to unite the tribes willing to cooperate with Rome," Garrick continued. "Marcus was meant to marry the eldest daughter."
My chest tightened.
"But before the alliance could happen, the Caesar's son betrayed him."
Marcus looked away.
"My ancestor learned of the plot," Garrick said. "And worked with him to gain advantage, using the chaos to momentarily settle his own hatred against Rome."
"The battle," Marcus said coldly.
Garrick nodded once.
"He told you the truth moments before he drove the sword through your chest, am I right?"
Silence swallowed the room.
I could barely breathe.
"What does this have to do with me?" I whispered.
Garrick's cold gaze settled onto mine fully now.
"Because the family was slaughtered afterward," Garrick said quietly. "Even the daughter Marcus was meant to wed. All except one child."
My blood ran cold.
"There was an infant," he continued. "One who vanished the same night Roman troops descended upon our lands."
Beside me, Marcus went utterly still as realization slowly crept across his face.
"No," he breathed. "Alan said Elena carried Roman blood. That she was descended from—"
"Alan knows fragments," Garrick cut in sharply. "Dates. Artifacts. Half-buried records. But my family preserved the stories themselves. The truth passed from father to son for centuries."
A chill crawled beneath my skin.
"No," I whispered again, weaker this time.
Garrick's gaze locked onto mine.
"The child was never Roman," he said. "She belonged to the Briton bloodline Marcus was meant to bind himself to. The same bloodline my ancestors destroyed when her family turned against their own people."
Marcus's jaw tightened violently.
"My family spent generations searching for what became of that infant," Garrick continued. "Because after that night, everything began to rot. Fortunes collapsed. Heirs died. Father turned against sons." His voice lowered. "They believed the alliance had been severed before it could be fulfilled."
The room felt suffocating now.
"And now?" Marcus asked coldly.
Garrick looked directly at me.
"Now they believe Elena is the last surviving remnant of that bloodline." His mouth curled faintly. "The missing piece we both lost."
"You will not have her," Marcus said coldly, every word edged with violence. "The agreement was to keep her safe."
"We are keeping her safe," Garrick shot back. "By making her my wife."
The room fell deathly still.
I could only stare at him, incredulous.
"You are out of your fucking mind."
Garrick could barely even look at me, his attention fixed solely on Marcus now, like this had always been a negotiation between men and I was merely the prize at its center.
"My family believes uniting our bloodlines ends this," he continued. "This curse. Everything that began ever since we've taken down her family."
"You speak of her as though she is property," Marcus growled.
"Aren't you doing the same?" Garrick challenged immediately. "You think I don't see the way you look at her? Like fate carved her out solely for you?"
Marcus stepped forward then, dangerous in a way that made my pulse spike instantly.
"There is a difference," he said quietly. "She chose me."
Something flickered across Garrick's expression at that. "She doesn't know what she is," Garrick bit out. "What she carries."
"She is not some relic for your family to possess," Marcus snapped. "Nor some vessel to heal the sins of dead men."
Garrick laughed bitterly.
"That is easy for you to say now." His eyes darkened. "But centuries ago, your precious Rome would have married her bloodline off for political gain all the same."
Marcus said nothing, because he knew Garrick was not entirely wrong.
A laugh escaped me then, breathless and disbelieving.
"God," I whispered, dragging a hand over my face. "I can't do this."
"Elena," Marcus said again, softer this time as he reached for my wrist.
I pulled away harder than I intended. "No."
Something in my expression must have stopped him, because he froze instantly.
My chest heaved as I looked between the two of them. The tension, the history, the centuries of blood and resentment hanging in the room so thick it felt impossible to breathe through.
"Destroy my flat all you want," I snapped bitterly. "Kill each other if you absolutely must."
I turned sharply toward Garrick, taking a step closer as I pointed a finger directly at him.
"But I am not fucking marrying you." My voice shaking with anger. "We already tried that route, remember? And it ended with you sucking another woman's pussy, drugging me then shooting me."
Garrick's expression darkened with rage.
Then I looked back at Marcus, and suddenly, the rest of my anger faltered. He looked sad and helpless, like this was never how he imagined things would unfold between us.
My throat tightened painfully.
"I need air," I managed quietly.
Neither of them stopped me this time.
I turned before either could say another word, yanked the door open and walked out into the corridor. The moment the cold air from the stairwell hit my face, I exhaled shakily, my pulse still roaring in my ears.
Behind me, the flat still remained silent.
And somehow, that silence felt worse than the fighting ever had.