Page 63 of Claimed By My Fiancé's Brother

The last thing I wanted was to meet up with Dylan at night, but could I really pass up on a chance to read Alexander’s letters?

By the time night fell, I knew my answer to that question.

I felt naked without any of the weapons I’d started carrying since I’d begun training with West, so I swiped my silver daggers before I headed out.

But Dylan wasn’t waiting at the brook. No one was.

Apart from the sound of running water, the brook and the surrounding woods were uncharacteristically quiet.

I frowned, slowly drawing on Lara’s wolf senses to assess the area as I moved toward the muster point for the northeast night patrol.

It was still quiet, although now I felt a strange tension in the air.

Why couldn’t I hear the wolves who were supposed to be patrolling nearby? Were they?—

I barely darted away in time to avoid the slashing claws of a massive rogue who’d lunged at me from where the patrol should’ve been.

I straightened, preparing to attack, only to freeze when I noticed there was more than one of them.

Growls and snarls filled the air as seven rogues surrounded me.

I palmed my two silver daggers and settled into a fighting stance.

Taking down two rogues on my own would have been difficult enough. But seven? That was impossible.

The rogue in front of me bared its teeth, saliva dripping down its mangled fur.

I bared my canines right back at him.

Even if it was hopeless, I’d never go down without a fight. If I was dying, I’d take at least a few of them with me.

I launched myself at the first rogue.

CHAPTER 11

ALEXANDER

“You don’t plan on coming to the celebration at the bonfire.”

It wasn’t a question.

But Anastasia had always been perceptive.

“No,” I said, rolling up the map and plans on the table.

There was no more need for them.

Anastasia walked farther into the tent, her languid gait akin to the prowl of a predator.

“But you’ve earned it,” she said, her eyes locked on mine. “You not only defeated the Bloodfrost Pack, but you also made them agree to a peace treaty. Even your grandfather couldn’t manage that.”

But then again, Grandfather had never truly wanted to end the war, regardless of the drivel he’d peddled to the Nightshade Pack.

As a true Hawthorne, the only thing that had concerned him was power, no matter the cost.

I picked bag off the ground and felt Anastasia’s gaze track the movement.

“The pack needs to know the war is over. I’ll go ahead to deliver the information,” I explained.

---