Page 44 of Claimed By My Fiancé's Brother

The drumbeats switched up. It was time for the first dance.Finally.

Dylan took a step forward, then another.

The entire pack seemed to fall silent as they realized he didn’t intend to take the first dance with his luna.

He wouldn’t. Surely he wouldn’t dare.

Eleanor seemed to be the only one surprised, her eyes as wide as saucers as Dylan stopped in front of her, his hand outstretched to request a dance with her.

Eleanor looked beyond Dylan, her gaze finding mine unerringly…and then she took Dylan’s offered hand.

Oh, little rabbit.

Was this supposed to make me jealous?

If so, she’d failed miserably.

The hushed whispers that broke out were barely masked by the rising tempo of the drumbeats.

“...first dance supposed to be with the new luna?”

“... can’t just break the bond of four years of engagement…”

Micah was deathly still as she watched Dylan with Eleanor.

Dylan drew her close, seemingly not caring about anything going on around him except Eleanor, and the dance began.

The monster bared his canines within me.

I felt Anastasia go rigid next to me, and while the wolves around me stayed silent, I felt their gazes on me as well. But all my attention was on the dance.

Dylan’s hands settled on Eleanor’s lower back as his lips brushed her ear. Eleanor’s hands settled around his shoulders, and her lips parted as she spoke.

The monster urged me to close the distance between us and slaughter Dylan for daring to touch our mate.

But I did nothing.

I didn’t want to get closer to them. I didn’t want to know what he was telling her that had her so entranced. I didn’t want to know what she was saying in response as their bodies swayed only inches apart.

I didn’t want anything to do with Eleanor. I didn’t?—

I enhanced my hearing, filtering through the cacophony of sounds until I heard Eleanor’s soft voice as clearly as if she was standing next to me.

“...dancing with Micah?”

“I’ve been thinking about the hunt.” Dylan’s voice was distant, but his gaze was steady on Eleanor. “How you were almost kidnapped.”

When I’d left to take care of Eleanor that evening, Dylan alone had overseen the interrogation of the last unconscious assailant before executing him.

Dylan had since refused to reveal whatever he’d gleaned from the assailant, if he’d learned anything at all, so there were no leads about who’d ordered the kidnapping.

Yet.

I intended to find out the truth, no matter how long it took.

Regardless of how our relationship was in private, Eleanor was my mate. An attack on her was an attack on me.

Eleanor was silent as she stared quizzically up at Dylan.

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