(GILBERT'S POV)
For weeks, I had watched Vera from the edges of crowded rooms, pretending I wasn't watching at all.
Every time my eyes found her, something ugly twisted in my stomach, and I had learned not to lie to myself about what it was. Jealousy. Vera was beautiful. Warm where I was cold, confident where I was cautious, and whenever she laughed, Ethan's entire face changed. His eyes softened. His mouth curved into that smile I had spent eight hundred years pretending I didn't want. She was his mate. Their bond was older than promises, older than words. It was something written into their very souls, chosen by forces neither of them could fight. And no matter how long I had lived or how well I had learned to hide my feelings, I still couldn't stop looking at what I could never have.
'You have no claim on him.' I had repeated those words to myself countless times, especially on the nights when loneliness made it difficult to breathe.
