Klaus’s obsession with the little human had consumed him for months. He had poured his heart into trying to win her over, revealing the truths of the supernatural world with reckless honesty, laying bare his own vulnerabilities in hopes of breaking down her stubborn resistance. Despite his persistent efforts—his words gentle yet persistent, his gestures sincere—she remained obstinate, refusing to see him as anything more than a stranger.

His patience had worn thin. A flicker of frustration ignited in his eyes, transforming them into a fierce, luminous yellow. His sharp teeth showed just enough to hint at the growing anger bubbling beneath the surface. Every failed attempt fueled his irritation, each rejection digging deeper into his resolve.

“Enough,” he growled, voice low and rough with annoyance. “You’re coming with me.”

Without waiting for her response, Klaus reached out with a swift, possessive grip, grabbing her small arm with a firm yet gentle strength that betrayed his true intent. Without hesitation, he began to drag her along, his mind already set—she was his, whether she liked it or not. For months, he had convinced himself of this truth, and now, no matter her stubbornness, he was determined to claim her.