Page 60 of Claimed By My Fiancé's Brother

I ran in human form. Lara was too unstable these days for me to risk letting her out. Only our routine training with West kept her grounded since Alexander’s departure. She wanted her mate back with an intensity that scared me sometimes.

I ran until I didn’t feel like screaming. Then, I headed home.

I told myself that tonight, I wouldn’t let Lara sleepwalk us into Alexander’s empty bed.

Even I was ashamed of my wolf’s desperation at this point.

Each morning, I woke up in Alexander’s bed even though I’d tucked myself into my own bed the night before. In those first moments of wakefulness, when I found myself searching for a trace of his scent, I hated Lara.

I was almost out of the woods near Alexander’s residence when I saw Dylan.

He bent over and picked up a brown envelope lying on the staircase at the entrance to the house.

I froze.

That was the kind of envelope the war letters always came in. Dylan straightened, and as the fading rays of sunlight hit the envelope, I saw the name emblazoned on it.

Eleanor.

Alexander had sent me a letter.

I stepped out of the woods, my anger crackling like a wildfire within me.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I demanded.

Dylan turned to face me, surprise flashing across his face before disappearing as quickly as it had appeared.

“Eleanor.”

I looked from him to the brown envelope in his hands, something clicking as I registered how smoothly he’d taken it.

“How long have you been doing that?” I asked, my certainty only growing when Dylan couldn’t meet my gaze.

My anger overflowed into red-hot fury.

“Answer me!” I shouted.

Dylan’s expression didn’t change.

“My brother doesn’t care for you,” he said evenly.

All this time, I’d been driving myself insane with the thought that my memories had played a trick on me, exaggerating what had happened during my heat.

I’d started to think I was dreaming that Alexander held me and comforted me through my pains. And all that time, Dylan had been stealing Alexander’s letters.

“You had no right to steal my letters,” I growled, taking a threatening step toward him. “He’s my mate. He’s your brother, and he’s fightingyourwar.”

Dylan’s gaze darkened, and his next words were filled with his alpha authority.

“Watch your tone,” he snarled. “Alexander is fighting for his pack, as all loyal wolves should.”

After being caught red-handed, how could Dylan still be so shameless?

“Incredible,” I said bitterly. “What else could I have expected from someone like you?”

For all his flaws, I’d believed Dylan was redeemable, that he was a victim of circumstances that had spun out of our control too quickly.

I’d been wrong.

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