Page 77 of Claimed By My Fiancé's Brother

“I’m so sorry, Eleanor.”

I hit Dylan, trying to break his hold on me, but his grip remained secure.

“It’s all right, Eleanor. It’s all right,” he murmured.

I fought off a tremble. Of course, it was all right.

I wasn’t hurt by Alexander’s actions.

Neither was I hurt by his words or the way he was familiar with Anastasia in a way he never was with me or the way he held her, their lips inches apart, or the way?—

I stopped hitting Dylan, my hands falling to my sides and a sob ripping out of me as a painful realization hit me.

I wanted Alexander to be in Dylan’s place, holding me and trying to comfort me.

I realized that my hatred for Alexander might not even be hatred.

The moment that realization hit, I hated myself.

How could I have grown up with an abusive, emotionally unavailable father, only to fall for an even more unavailable man?

How?

Dylan’s hand ran down my back, drawing me out of my maze of thoughts long enough for me to realize I was still in his embrace.

I took a step back, wiping at my tears furiously and feeling more than a little embarrassed.

“Excuse me,” I said hurriedly, turning away.

I didn’t make it more than a step away before Dylan grabbed my arm.

“Eleanor, we were friends once. I want to be here for you.”

I met his earnest, guileless gaze, seeing the hurt glistening in those hazel eyes—hurt that I was pushing him away again, despite all his explanations and apologies for his past mistakes.

But Dylan couldn’t be here for me. Not when he was mated with a child on the way.

The truth I didn’t dare mention was that, regardless of how irrational it was, I didn’t think I could ever forgive Dylan.

If he hadn’t cheated on me, we would be happily mated. I would be with him, nurturing safe, happy feelings, instead of trying to survive this rollercoaster of emotions with Alexander.

“You—” I paused, my words dying on my tongue when I noticed someone walking toward us.

It was my former best friend, who was probably behind the attempt on my life.

Micah.

I tensed and Dylan followed my gaze, his body stiffening at the sight of his mate.

Instead of putting some distance between us to prevent a misunderstanding, he made it worse, moving in front of me to protect me from Micah.

To my surprise, Micah ignored the motion, making her way toward us with a small but seemingly genuine smile.

“My love, there you are,” she cooed, dropping a kiss on Dylan’s cheek before turning to me with an uncharacteristic look of concern on her face.

“Are you all right, Eleanor? You don’t look too good.”

Dylan glanced at Micah, the confusion and suspicion in his eyes a direct reflection of my thoughts.

---