Zane's expression fell as our touch faded without leaving the mark we'd both hoped for. I wasn’t entirely sure how to recognize a mate; my mother always spoke of it as a surge of emotions, an undeniable connection that sparked the bond to life with a single touch.
But with Zane, all I felt was the comfort of familiarity—a gentle reminder of what could have been.
"I always thought..." Zane's voice trailed off, leaving unspoken words between us. This time, I didn’t have to pretend.
I offered him a sad smile, knowing this moment had been inevitable. "So did everyone else. For a while, I did too." I squeezed his hand gently, a final, bittersweet gesture.
His crystal-clear eyes searched mine, emotions swirling within them. "If you’re not my mate, then who is?" He sounded lost, vulnerable. "
