Trista's POV

Cassian never came back to the Ironthorn Pack that night. He didn't come home.

For the next three days, I stayed with my mother at the Healing Center.

My father, Randolph, insisted I needed rest. He said Mom's condition was stable.

Only when it was late did I finally relax a bit. I drove back to the Ironthorn territory, hoping to fall asleep quickly from sheer exhaustion.

I was just drifting off when I heard the bedroom door click open. Then came the sound of running water from the bathroom.

Drowsily, I turned. Cassian was already beside me in bed.

I felt his body heat. It was a simple movement, but it told me he was finally back.

He'd been gone a month for his "trip." I guessed he was happy with his new family.

His hand wrapped around my shoulder. Instinctively, my body stiffened.

Cassian realized I was awake. He pulled me close quickly, turning me to face him.

His warmth radiated next to me. The air filled with his familiar scent—his pheromones.

My body reacted almost automatically. I felt my wolf stirring.

It let out a low growl inside me, yearning for him, wanting his deep strength.

My heartbeat quickened. The blood in my neck began to warm.

My wolf urged me closer, desperate for the warmth of his hands.

My skin started to flush. I could hear my own breathing get ragged. A simple touch from him felt like a match to tinder.

But my mind was clear. I couldn't do this.

I took a sharp breath, trying to regain control.

Cassian's hand tightened around my waist. He yanked me against him. His big, familiar hand didn't hesitate. He pulled down the strap of my nightgown, touching my bare skin.

In that instant, those images flashed through my mind: him and Samantha at Sacred Springs Valley. The flare of the fireworks. His arm tight around her waist. His eyes full of tenderness—a look he'd never given me.

His hand held her child. His wedding ring hand was wrapped around Samantha's own.

I couldn't stop the scenes from playing. Every detail tore at my heart.

My wolf fought inside me, but my reason was stronger now.

I couldn't be a casualty of his betrayal.

"Don't," my voice was low, but shockingly firm.

Cassian paused. Maybe he thought I was shy. Maybe he thought it was a game.

He didn't stop. He grew bolder.

His kiss became more aggressive. His hand explored my body, searching every inch of my skin.

I pushed hard against him, trying to break free of his weight. The longing burned like fire inside me.

My wolf wanted to rush forward, but I knew I couldn't.

The second I pushed him away, my stomach turned over violently.

All the desire and emotion converged into unbearable pressure. I couldn't stop it. I shoved Cassian off and leaned over the side of the bed, dry-heaving violently.

The low lamp flickered on, driving away the tension and intimacy.

Cassian rolled off the bed. He patted my back lightly. His tone was concerned. "Are you sick?"

I forced myself to stand. I rushed to the bathroom and closed my eyes.

I wasn't sick. I was disgusted by him. That revulsion and humiliation, rising from my core, were too much to bear.

Cassian didn't seem to get it. He stood behind me, frowning slightly, watching me leave. He walked downstairs to get me water.

He hadn't noticed my red eyes, my scratchy throat, or the cuts on my ankle.

A few minutes later, he came back with a glass of water. He held it out. "I'll book a restaurant tomorrow. We'll make up the anniversary."

"Make up?" He didn't even sound sorry. He just offered a mechanical arrangement.

I looked at the water. I couldn't believe he was so casually trying to move on.

"You remembered our anniversary?" I asked.

Cassian seemed surprised. He hesitated a moment before answering, "Of course I did."

His eyes held no sincerity. My heart was already ice.

He remembered the date, yet he chose his ex-lover and her son. He threw away three years of vows.

He made her lemon cake. He celebrated with her. I got nothing from this mateship.

I didn't answer him. Only anger and despair remained.

The betrayal and rage swept over me. It was a sharp blade slicing through my chest.

I felt powerless, yet stuck.

The air went rigid again. Cassian didn't push me further. The atmosphere turned instantly cold.

Just then, his comm-stone flashed.

He glanced down. He quickly sent a low, short reply. Then he turned the screen off.

He looked up at me, clearly distracted. "Go to sleep."

I wanted to respond, but I stayed silent. I closed my eyes, trying to calm myself.

Yet, Cassian and Samantha's images kept flooding my mind.

Suddenly, Cassian's comm-stone lit up again.

He checked it, then stood up and left the house.

I slowly opened my eyes. I heard his car engine fading away.

A text message. One simple text was enough to make him leave in the middle of the night.

It was Samantha. She had taken over his world again.

I wanted to scream, to unleash all the pain. But my body felt drained of all strength. I couldn't even make a sound. All I could do was breathe.

The next day, I forced myself to get ready. I took breakfast to my parents.

My mother, Ulva, looked at me, worried. "Trista, what's wrong?"

I quietly reassured her, "Don't worry, Mom. I just didn't sleep well."

Randolph stood beside me. He handed me a bottle of water. "Your mother is recovering well. The doctor says she can leave the Healing Center in a few days."

Seeing my mother doing better, I went to the main treatment hall.

Passing the billing office, I saw Cassian.

He should have been at the packhouse, leading the morning meeting. My gut told me why he was here.

I wanted to confront him. But I knew I couldn't.

Trista's POV

I was afraid I would lose control. I was afraid I'd cause a scene.

I worried my parents would see.

I also worried I'd go crazy before fixing anything.

So, I stayed put. I fought hard to suppress the pain and the rising anger of my wolf.

My wolf had never been this wounded.

Every time Cassian came close, I should have felt that familiar tug, the yearning from our mating bond. But now, I felt nothing.

Our connection, thin as a thread, had frayed the moment Samantha returned.

Every encounter with Cassian felt like ants chewing at our bond. The pain got smaller, the connection weaker, more futile.

I waited for Cassian to speak, or to just walk away in silence.

I was done trying to excuse this broken mating.

Cassian finally reached me. He extended his hand, reaching for the billing forms I held.

Just then, his comm-stone buzzed a few times. He quickly pulled his hand back, checked the screen, and glanced at the message.

"Someone needs me. You go on with your business," Cassian said shortly. He turned and walked toward the elevator.

He was rushing. As he spoke into his comm-stone, his voice was low and gentle, "Be good. Stop fussing."

That gentle murmur pierced my heart. His patience, his indulgence toward her—I had desperately wanted that. Now, all I felt was emptiness.

I couldn't take it anymore. I turned and rushed into the restroom.

I couldn't control myself. Tears streamed out like a flood.

So he COULD use that tone to comfort someone.

Twenty-five years I'd known him, yet he had never shown me that kind of patience.

Now, all his tenderness went to her. I was just the neglected bystander.

After calming down a little, I came out of the restroom.

I quickly fixed my makeup, trying not to look so ragged, and returned to the room.

Mom immediately sensed something was wrong. She sent Dad out and held out her hand to me. "Trista, did you argue with Cassian?"

I lowered my eyes. I shook my head, feeling guilty. "No, Mom. We're fine."

Just then, Dad and Cassian walked into the room together.

Mom smiled when she saw Cassian. "Cassian, you're so busy with the Ironthorn Pack. You don't need to keep coming over."

Cassian put down the supplements he carried. "I've arranged for an expert doctor. You'll get a full checkup when you leave the Healing Center."

Dad looked at Cassian, his eyes full of pride. "You're so thoughtful. We owe you so much for all these years."

Cassian walked to the bedside. He paused, looked at me, then told Dad, "We're family."

I moved to give him space. He lightly pressed me back down onto the bed. "I can stand."

Watching the comfortable interaction between him and my parents, I felt a sharp pang of pain.

Three years ago, my father's company failed. We couldn't afford the huge expenses of running a pack and were deep in debt.

Cassian solved our problems. He helped us disband the pack members but kept the pack territory intact.

The Silverlight Pack was no longer worthy of an alliance with the Ironthorn Pack, but Cassian still mated with me.

Back then, I naively thought he had feelings for me.

It wasn't until after our mating, when I overheard a conversation between him and my father, that I finally understood. Cassian chose me purely out of calculation.

To him, I was a tool to solve a problem. And Samantha—she was the only one in his heart.

The emptiness and pain surged, almost overwhelming me.

Mom asked Cassian to take me home to rest.

We walked to the elevator in silence. Cassian suddenly stopped and pulled my arm. "You look terrible. Didn't you sleep well last night?"

I managed a bitter smile. "No."

He thought I was just tired. He had no idea what my real pain was.

I pulled my hand away. I spoke coldly. "You go do your business. I'll walk around myself."

The elevator doors opened. I started toward the other side of the hall.

Cassian grabbed my arm again and pulled me into the elevator with him. "I made a reservation at your favorite restaurant."

I had zero interest. I felt nothing but resistance, maybe even numbness. I just whispered, "Okay."

I followed him to the restaurant. Cassian ordered for me. I watched his every move, a detached observer.

Then, he handed me a jewelry box. "Anniversary gift."

I gripped my water glass and nodded, barely glancing at the box.

I had loved Cassian for twenty-two years. We'd been mated for three. I knew better than anyone how cold his heart was beneath his polite, gentle exterior.

I used to beg him for gifts.

He'd give in when he was annoyed enough. I'd show them off to my friends for weeks.

After the Silverlight Pack collapsed, I never dared to ask for anything again.

Seeing my lack of reaction, Cassian opened the box himself. He pulled out a diamond bracelet.

I could tell instantly it was worth at least $200,000.

He reached out to put it on me. I didn't resist.

The bracelet was cold on my wrist. I murmured, "Thank you."

Cassian frowned but didn't ask anything more. He began serving me food. "Your favorite matcha truffles."

Seeing Cassian patiently prepare all this gave me a faint flicker of hope.

I finally spoke, holding onto one last weak expectation. "If I wanted to eat something you made yourself, would you learn to bake it for me once?"

Trista's POV

Cassian cut his steak with his usual steady hand. His voice was low and calm, "Everyone has their own strengths. The apprentices here are excellent chefs. Order whatever you want. Don't worry about the cost."

My heart gave a little tremor when I heard his answer.

I thought I was numb already, but that dashed hope brought a fresh wave of pain.

I nodded. The "Sure" I whispered was almost inaudible.

That tiny flame of hope that had just sparked instantly shrunk to an ember. Then cold water hit it. It gave a faint 'hiss'.

I lowered my eyes, hiding the stinging emotion.

He could bake a lemon cake with his own hands at Sacred Springs Valley. He could promise "protection" under the fire magic glow. He could make his old love and her child smile while leaning on his arm.

But for me? Learning one dessert was too much effort.

Love or not love. It was just one sentence difference.

The matcha truffles in my mouth tasted bitter now. Humiliation dropped down my throat, settling heavily in my stomach.

We sat across the table. The silence felt like a taut string. Only the city wind passed through the glass, flowing like an invisible river at our feet.

He walked over and adjusted my napkin. His movement was patient, almost perfect.

I suddenly understood something: Expensive gifts and perfect service weren't the same as caring. They were often just byproducts of good manners.

Cassian paused. He looked me over, his gaze comparing me to some memory.

Even when we fought, I used to cry, argue, or cling to him. I was never this quiet.

He raised a hand and casually tugged at his collar.

Then, I noticed his comm-stone blinking on the corner of the table. It pulsed like a heartbeat.

He glanced at it, but didn't move.

When the comm-stone buzzed a third time, I met his eyes.

The candlelight fractured in his gaze. I saw anxiety, but no impatience.

She was looking for him.

When the comm-stone vibrated a fourth time, he finally had to speak. "I have something I need to handle. I'll leave the pack driver for you. Go back soon. Don't wait up."

He stood. I stood up too.

A dull ache surged in my chest. I grabbed my bag and my comm-stone. "Go ahead. I'll get home myself."

He didn't explain. I didn't ask.

In that silence, we split onto two separate paths.

As I turned, I spaced out slightly. My shoulder bumped the waiter's tray. My bag slipped from my fingers and hit the floor.

The contents scattered. My lip gloss rolled under the table. A few sheets of paper fluttered in the lamplight.

They were the copies of the Moon Goddess Rejection Protocol I picked up from the Elder Council. Bound with a black ribbon, it looked like a silent verdict.

Cassian leaned down. I was faster. I snatched the papers into my palm before his fingers could touch them.

Now was not the time. At least, not until my mother left the Healing Center.

His eyes scanned past my spilled makeup and settled on my hand.

His gaze narrowed. "What is that?"

"Nothing, just receipts for the treatments," I kept my voice low, controlling my scent to hide my emotions.

"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow.

The edge of the paper was caught between us. The rubbing sound was thin, like a blade.

Just as the paper almost slipped from my grasp, the comm-stone buzzed again in his hand.

He gave me one look, then let go.

The next moment, he was gone. His steps were quick and decisive. He left only his keys on the table.

I told the pack driver to go back to the Ironthorn Pack. I hailed a cab and told the driver to follow Cassian's car.

The night air snuck through the window crack. His scent was stirred into a small tide, hitting my ribs again and again.

The diamond bracelet pressed against my wrist bone. It was cold, like a circle of fine frost, making my pulse beat more clearly beneath the skin.

The chase ended when his car stopped at the drop-off ramp of the Healing Center. I followed Cassian's figure from a distance, all the way to the elevator.

The mirror-like doors opened and closed in front of him. His figure was swallowed by the metal. Only a brief, candle-like reflection flashed.

I took the other elevator. When I got out, the corridor was empty.

"He is here..." my wolf whispered in my mind.

I stopped at the end of the hall and gave a small, bitter laugh.

The daughter of a former Alpha, now tailing her mate in the night like a female driven by jealousy.

If I weren't worried about my mother's health, I would have ripped away all my dignity right there. I would have handed him over to Samantha—and given the pain that tore me apart right back to the one who caused it.

I pressed my fingers to the corner of my eye, forcing back the rising moisture. I took a deep breath and smoothed my makeup.

I walked to the healing ward and knocked on the door.

Ulva was half-sitting up in bed. Behind the curtain, the healing runes glowed softly.

She looked at me, her worry unconcealed. "Trista, tell me the truth—did you and Cassian fight?"

I slowed my breathing, pushing the tears back. The wind outside passed the holy site's spire, carrying the subtle smell of herbs and light.

I walked closer and held her warm hand.

My wolf gently moved its paws, wanting to raise its head, but I forced it to settle down.

"We didn't fight," I said. "It's just been busy with pack matters these few days. I'm just tired."

The words landed softly, but felt like sand scraping my throat.

I once told my parents that mating with Cassian was my greatest happiness.

Now, how could I tell them the truth?

How could I say that Cassian, the man they praised, had trampled on his vows?

How could I say that I was ready to reject him and end our mating bond?