GINA’S POV
The wind howled behind me, biting at my skin like it, too, wanted a piece of me. But I didn’t look back. Not once.
Tears burned my eyes, blurring the road ahead, but I refused to let them fall—not where he could see them. This wasn’t heartbreak. This was something darker, something raw and jagged, clawing up my throat like a beast. Rage. Pure, unfiltered rage.
What right did he have?
Klaus had years—years of silence, years of distance, years of watching me struggle alone—and now he had the audacity to stand there like some wounded hero? Like he still had a claim over my choices? Over me? No.
My fingers curled into fists, nails biting into my palms as I stormed forward, each step slamming into the ground like a promise. If I had to marry the devil himself to save Bernard, I
