Page 75 of Claimed By My Fiancé's Brother

It was barely an hour into the celebration, and I was already sick of it.

It was a party to celebrate the end of the war and the beginning of an era of peace for the Nightshade Pack, but I felt anything but peaceful.

Maybe if I’d gotten some rest as Alexander recommended earlier, I wouldn’t have felt so tired and irritated.

But I hadn’t, and now my entire body ached as if I’d run a marathon. Pain licked up my side and down my hips, where my injuries from the rogue attack had already healed.

My irritation might have been exacerbated by the fact that neither Seraphina nor West were around tonight to keep me company.

West was on guard duty, and Seraphina was spending the night reading to Alpha Maximus, who, according to the physicians, was at death’s door.

She didn’t want him to die alone.

I wondered if Alexander had gone to see his father since his return from the war.

As if conjured from my thoughts, I saw of Alexander a short distance away, nursing a glass of wine and nodding along to something a pack elder was telling him. The young female wolves nearby kept stealing glances at him.

I scoffed and grabbed a glass of wine off a passing tray.

So what if he looked dashing in a three-piece suit that was more formal than anything I’d ever seen him in but somehow suited his dark, untamable look perfectly? He was still insufferable.

We attended pretty much every pack event as a couple—or at least, we arrived together. He hadn’t even bothered with that ruse today.

Not that it bothered me. Not one bit.

Maybe that was another reason I couldn’t stand this celebration. It was all about Alexander. Everyone was focused on the returned warriors, but mainly him, the commander who’d led them to victory.

Dylan’s expression had been stony when he’d had to praise his brother during his speech, and he’d looked even more annoyed as he’d explained the terms of the treaty.

Micah had excused herself just before the speech began, ridding me of the opportunity to feel her out as one of my murder suspects.

I caught a movement from the corner of my eye. Glancing back, I saw Anastasia next to Alexander. The pack elder was gone.

Standing on her tiptoes, she put one of her hands on his chest and whispered something into his ear. Alexander took her arm, and they left the party together.

A strange emotion settled in my chest. It was bitter, angry, and vicious, its claws digging into me.

Was this jealousy?

No. Anastasia could have Alexander, for all I cared.

If he wanted to leave the party with her, he could go right ahead and?—

I downed my glass of wine and went after them.

I moved quickly, but there were too many people, and I barely caught a glimpse of Anastasia’s red dress before they rounded a corner.

I hurried after them, unsure why I was following them, but I kept going.

I saw them slip inside Alexander’s receiving room and something inside me went cold.

I hesitated, then I walked toward the door.

It wasn’t shut all the way, so I could see them.

And hear them.

Anastasia was pressed up against Alexander, her lips parted as she traced her fingers up Alexander’s unbuttoned shirt.

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