Klaus’s jaw tensed. He didn’t meet her eyes. “We’re engaged,” he said, the words hollow and empty. He didn’t say he loved me. He couldn’t even bring himself to say the words out loud. Not to Claudette, not to himself.
Because I wasn’t his choice. I was his mate, but not his heart.
Claudette’s tears fell freely now, streaking down her flushed cheeks. “If I hadn’t left, Klaus, we would have been happy. We were meant to be.” She leaned in, her breath warm against his neck. "Klaus, please… just hold me…"
The distance between them disappeared, their foreheads touching, then their noses, and finally, their lips.
I stood frozen by the bay window, fists clenched at my sides as I watched Klaus—my mate, the one I had given my life for—fall into the arms of another. Claudette’s robe slipped to the floor, and Klaus’s usual restraint crumbled as he pressed against her, his lips moving from her shoulder to her chest with a tenderness that had once been reserved for me.
I closed my eyes, the pain too much to bear. My soul ached, the agony of betrayal cutting deeper than any physical wound. He had chosen her, even if just for a moment.