Evander's POV
Claire's face was pale, and her breathing was shallow. She had pushed herself to the edge, pouring every ounce of anger and pain out, and now she had fallen unconscious in my arms. I held her close, feeling the weight of her pain, knowing I couldn't let go—no matter how much anger or distance lay between us.
I looked down at her pale face, gently moving a few strands of hair away. My Claire—she looked so fragile. She was the only woman I had ever loved and the only one I would love for the rest of my life.
As I held her in my arms, guilt and worry flooded me. I didn't fully understand what had happened, but it was clear she'd had some kind of panic attack. Her breathing had been shaky, and she was completely drained now.
