"Claimed, Kyelle. Claimed with the aid of me and you know it. She is my mate and I will not—"
"Is she, though?" Kyelle asked quietly, a trace of her vulnerability bleeding into the words in the form of a mild quaver in her voice.
Tryson blew out a breath. "Yes," he said, his voice low and rough. "She is. I instructed you that years ago."
"You advised me that you had been uncertain. That you thought… that there had been some thing different with her. But you can not make the matebond, right, Tryson ? Isn't that what you've stated all these years? That you don't have the capacity. That they made you different. So there was no… no factor attempting to shape it—"
"I Was wrong. I've realized a lot in the past three years—as I'm certain you have as well. I'm sorry you were hurt by all this
