Page 42 of Claimed By Fur and Fangs

His face went pale. His entire body stiffened.

I turned to him, my chest rising and falling in frantic, uneven breaths.

"What the hell is this?"

Aidan didn’t move. He just stared.

"Aidan!" I choked out. "Why do I look exactly like her?!"

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Then, in a voice so low I almost didn’t hear it, he murmured, "I can explain."

"Then explain!" I demanded, my voice shaking. "Who is she?"

A long silence. Then he spoke.

"Her name was Alma."

The world tilted.

Aidan took a slow, hesitant step forward.

"She was my wife."

I nearly dropped the photograph.

"Your…" My voice cracked. "Your wife?"

"Over a century ago," he said, his voice heavy, "she was murdered. A rival vampire clan attacked us. I held her in my arms as she died," his eyes darkened with old pain.

My breath came in shallow gasps as the weight of his words crushed me, and I turned to the photographs again, my mind spinning.

"I don’t know how… but you…" He exhaled sharply. "You look exactly like her," Aidan stepped closer, his voice barely above a whisper.

A sick feeling coiled in my stomach.

Slowly, I turned back to face him.

"Is that why you’re with me?"

"No," his eyes widened.

But something in his voice faltered, and as I searched his face desperately for the truth, I didn’t find it—not fully.

"You’re lying." My voice trembled. "Some part of you does see her when you look at me, doesn’t it?"

He opened his mouth, then closed it.

Tears burned my eyes as I stepped back, shaking my head.

"I was never Amelia to you, was I?" My voice broke. "I was just Alma’s shadow."

"No." Aidan reached for me, but I jerked away.

"Don’t." My voice was hoarse. "Just don’t."

I turned, forcing my legs to move.

"Amelia, please…"

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