Esme freed her arm from his grasp the moment she realized he was still holding onto her. But before she could take a step back, he seized her by her shoulders, forcing her to face him.
"Esme… it's really you," he breathed as he stared at her face, disbelief and emotions clashing in his voice, but Esme only felt irritated by his lingering touch.
"Would you kindly let go of me?" she asked, her voice cold, calm and cutting, with an edge he had never heard from her before. He didn't seem to register how serious her words were.
The moment her scent reached him, another faint but unmistakable scent lingered beneath it. It wasn't hers, neither was it his. It was something else, or rather, someone else's scent washing all over her.
His relief curdled.
To confirm his dreadful suspicion, his gaze dropped to her neck, and his face went pale when he realized his own mate had already been marked and claimed by someone else. Someone who wasn't him.
