We had argued so many times—about her, about the distance growing between us. I compromised again and again, hoping that Klaus would choose me, that he would remember the bond we had, the one our wolves once shared. But the last time we fought was the final straw. He kicked me out of the car to pick up Claudette.
I died that night, and Klaus didn’t even know.
I watched as he walked into our house that evening. The place was eerily quiet, no longer filled with the smell of the meals I used to prepare or the warmth of our life together. He dropped his suit jacket by the door and called out for me, his voice echoing through the empty halls.
“Mavis?” He frowned when there was no answer. He glanced at his phone, then sent me a message: [Mavis, stop messing around. Come back home.]
No reply.
He dialed my number. “The number you’ve dialed is currently unavailable…” The automated voice grated on his nerves.
Klaus hung up and tried again. Still nothing.
I watched him stand in the dimly lit hallway, his shoulders rigid, his breathing shallow. For the first time in a long while, Klaus looked lost. And for the first time, I felt the tiniest bit of satisfaction.
"You’re too late, Klaus," I thought, my tears now dry. "I’m gone. You threw me away for her, and now you’ll live with that choice."
The next second, Klaus’s phone buzzed, cutting through the tension in the air. His eyes flicked down to the screen, a sigh escaping his lips as he saw the name.
Claudette.
For a brief moment, disappointment flashed in his eyes, but he quickly masked it, pressing the phone to his ear. "What is it, Claudette?" He answered, his voice rougher than usual.
Her voice was frantic, almost pleading. “Klaus, he’s found me again. My ex-Alpha—he won’t stop calling. I’m scared. Can you come?”
At the mention of her ex, Klaus stirred, a low growl rising in his chest. A threat to Claudette? He had never tolerated danger when it came to her, not in the past, and not now.
"Don't worry. I’ll be there soon." His voice was clipped, decisive, as he grabbed his suit jacket and keys.
As he stormed out of the house, I followed him like a shadow. My chest tightened painfully. He had forgotten. Forgotten about the calls, the messages, the gnawing feeling that something was wrong. You were so close, Klaus, just a heartbeat away from realizing I was already gone.