Page 71 of Claimed By My Fiancé's Brother

My side still ached even though my wounds were healed, so I ignored the pain as I waited.

I didn’t want to think of how Alexander would react when he discovered I’d snuck out of the house the moment he’d left, instead of resting as he’d ordered.

Maybe I should have told him about Dylan and the note that had lured me to the brook, but I couldn’t.

As hypocritical as it was, I didn’t want to damage the relationship between the two brothers any more than I already had. Confronting Dylan directly wasn’t the safest idea, but it was all I had.

I heard pounding footsteps, and then Dylan was right there, rounding the corner on his routine evening run. I stepped right into his path.

“Eleanor?” Dylan halted, his eyes wide with surprise. “You?—”

I didn’t let Dylan finish speaking.

“I’ll ask you just once,” I said, stepping right up to him. This close, I could see splotches of red around his neck, almost as if he’d been…strangled. Strange.

I focused on the task at hand.

“Why did you try to have me killed?”

Dylan’s jaw dropped.

“Someone tried to kill you?” he echoed. “Eleanor, what’s going on?”

I gritted my teeth.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” I growled, tossing the note he’d sent at him. “You mean to tell me that yourandomlychose a meeting time that coincided with your sentries leaving their posts so a group of rogues could break in and attack me?”

Dylan gaped at me, the note between his fingers all but forgotten.

“You were attacked by rogues last night? On pack grounds?” he demanded.

By the Goddess, he was a great actor.

“You make me sick,” I spat out, angry at myself for ever trusting him. “I can’t believe I thought you were a better person. I?—”

Dylan interrupted me before I could finish, his gaze locked on the note in his hands before shifting back to me.

“Eleanor, I…I didn’t write this note.”

Wait,what?

Dylan was still speaking, the look of confusion on his face intensifying as he stared at the note.

“I know this looks like my handwriting, but I didn’t write this.” He shook his head. “I destroyed all the letters Alexander sent to you. Why would I lie about that to lure you out for a meeting?”

My certainty wavered slightly.

That was where I drew a blank as well—Dylan’s motive for trying to kill me.

“To hurt me,” I answered with more confidence than I felt, leveling a glare at him. “To get back at me for not choosing you.”

Dylan’s face fell, as if my words hurt him.

“I would never hurt you, Eleanor,” he whispered, reaching out to cup my cheek. “Never. You have to believe me.”

I stepped back before his fingers could reach me.

“You’ve hurt me once already, Dylan,” I said curtly, but my mind was reeling.

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