Page 100 of Claimed By My Fiancé's Brother

“My brother is young. He will have many chances to create more heirs.”

Micah froze, the scent of her fear filling the air.

Maybe it was because, instinctively, she knew how easy it would be for me to kill her here.

The monster grasped at straws to rationalize killing Micah. We could kill her and offer her body as a peace offering to our mate as an apology for our earlier mistakes.

I rolled my eyes. Somehow I didn’t think Eleanor would appreciate a corpse as a peace offering.

I missed the serenity of the night before, when the monster had been lulled into silence by Eleanor’s touch. I walked by a still-frozen Micah.

Stopping right next to her, I made a promise.

“If you attempt to hurt my mate again, I will show you in great detail how expendable you are as Dylan’s mate and mother of his heir.”

I headed home before I gave in to my growing temptation to rip Micah to shreds.

When I entered my room, Eleanor was sitting at the edge of my bed…waiting.

She raised her head at the sound of my entry, those emerald green eyes locking onto mine.

Seeing her there did something to me—something that took my breath away and restarted my thought process.

Her emotions seeped through the mental walls I’d erected between us to restrict the effects of our completed mate bond.

Eleanor’s emotions were a cresting wave of pain that threatened to unravel me: hurt, betrayal, doubt, confusion, and…a fragment of hope. She was still trying to believe the best of me, even after I put her through all this.

Tears burned in my eyes, but I had too much control to let them fall.

I hated myself. I hated our situation. I hated all of it.

I turned away from her, purposefully ignoring her as I headed toward my bathroom, pulling off my shirt.

I heard a sharp intake of breath from Eleanor, and then she was right next to me, ripping my shirt out of my hands and forcing me to face her.

“Aren’t you even going to try explaining yourself?” she asked, a thread of anger igniting in her gaze.

Anger was good. It was far better than seeing Eleanor in pain.

“Why would I do that?” I shrugged flippantly.

The anger in her gaze flared brighter.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Eleanor hissed. “Maybe because we’re mates and I just caught you kissing another woman?”

I lifted an eyebrow, still wearing my mask of cool indifference.

“I don’t understand why you’re still going on about that. Both of us have already agreed that we aren’t truly mates.”

Eleanor’s hands formed fists at her sides and her eyes fluttered shut, as if she was trying to restrain herself from doing me grievous bodily harm.

When those emerald eyes opened again, Eleanor’s anger was gone, and only painfully honest vulnerability was left.

“I want to trust you, Alexander. I want to understand you,” she said evenly, placing her hand over mine. “I want to be here for you as your mate, but I can’t do that if you keep pushing me away.”

Unlike Anastasia’s touch, which had been uncomfortable, I wanted nothing more than to hold Eleanor’s hand, embrace her, and forget about everything keeping us apart. But since when had what I wanted mattered?

I flung her hand away from mine.

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