The words taste like ash in my mouth.
For a second, I stand there—just looking at her, searching her face for something… anything that tells me she might change her mind.
She doesn’t. All I see is conflict, fear, and that same stubborn, desperate attachment to a man who would gladly break her if it suited him.
The mate bond. It clouds judgment, softens logic, turns strength into hesitation.
The disappointment settles into my chest slowly. Not sharp or loud. Just… heavy. Like something inside me finally gives up.
“Of course,” I murmur, more to myself than to her.
What did I even expect? That she’d choose me over her mate? That she’d abandon everything she’s ever believed in for someone she barely knows?
A humorless breath slips past my lips.
Stupid.
I should have known better than
