Page 123 of Claimed By My Fiancé's Brother

Want. Need.

Those were words I thought I knew the meaning of before I met Eleanor, but she redefined their meaning.

I’d never wanted anything as much as I wanted her.

But that was selfish of me. Keeping her would mean putting her life in danger.

So I reached out with those powers I’d sworn never to use, my skills slightly rusty with disuse, just doing enough to alter the details of our meeting.

Eleanor needed to hate me. She needed to never discover our mating bond so she could live a full, normal, happy life.

The thought of her being with my brother, the thought of him touching her, knowing her in a way I never could, ignited a depth of rage I’d never felt before.

For the first time in my life, I felt the urge to harm my brother.

But I thought of Eleanor, and it stayed my hand.

Dylan was a better person now than he’d been when he’d asked me to sacrifice Anastasia, even if our relationship hadn’t improved. He’d matured enough that I knew he’d be a worthy mate for Eleanor. She would live a happy, privileged life as the luna of the Nightshade Pack.

I could be content with that.

So I’d restricted myself to watching her from afar.

Until she’d shown up at my doorstep four years later with marks on her skin, pain and desire in her eyes and an unspoken plea on her lips.

Just like that, all my plans went up in smoke.

We were mated. It was both the fulfillment of my deepest, darkest desire and my worst nightmare.

Every day, it took everything in me to keep up the walls between us. I tried my best not to fall any harder for Eleanor than I already had, as I pushed her as far away from me as possible.

It was brutal to balance openly neglecting her so my father or his allies wouldn’t have her killed, while still protecting her to the best of my abilities.

But it’d all been for nothing.

I could have averted this conclusion if I’d killed Dylan earlier, instead of just knocking him out.

As I placed pressure on Eleanor’s wound, my hands stained with her blood, I knew this was all my fault.

My brother was dead by my own hands and my mate was?—

“I…I love you,” my mate croaked out. Those beautiful green eyes were shot with pain, and I realized what she’d done.

“No, you don’t,” I snarled.

She couldn’t love me. Not after all the pain I’d put her through. Everything I’d done, everything I’d said…it was impossible.

“I forbid it,” I said, with no small amount of panic. “You hate me, and you have your entire life ahead of you. The physicians?—”

“It’s…” I’d never heard Eleanor’s voice so tiny and shaky before. “Cold.”

“Eleanor,” I begged, cradling her in my arms. For such a vibrant personality, she seemed so small now, so fragile. “Eleanor, please stay with me.”

The moment the sword ran through her, I’d reached out through the pack link for the physicians, but they weren’t here yet. Dylanhad planned this ambush point meticulously, so the camp was several kilometers away.

But I couldn’t give up hope on Eleanor. The physicians would be here soon and?—

Eleanor’s body went still against mine, her heart stopped beating, and the oppressive weight of my curse lifted.

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