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?

Trista's POV

"Cassian has stepped up for this family a lot over the last three years," Randolph said, sliding a box of pastries my way. "So, if you two are having a moment, just go talk to him. Stop being so sensitive."

Next to him, Ulva squeezed my hand, her eyes full of that desperate kind of hope. "Trista, you're the Alpha and Luna of Ironthorn. If you just had a pup, that mating bond would be bulletproof."

A pup. A bitter laugh bubbled up in my chest.

I remembered the time he was out at the border with the guards, hunting rogues. I took every bottle of birth control herbs in my nightstand and flushed them down the toilet.

When he finally came home a week later, it was a full moon. The "heat" had him wound tight.

He spent the night buried in my neck, scenting my skin. He definitely knew the herbs were out of my system, but he didn't stop.

I took that as a "yes."

But the next morning, he pressed a vial of Moonshade Suppressant to my lips. He was patient about it—he didn't move an inch until he was sure I'd swallowed every drop.

After that, I stopped trying. I buried the idea of "kids" so deep I forgot where I put it.

It took me until now to realize he didn't have a problem with being a father—he just didn't want me to be his kid's mother.

The sound of boots at the door snapped me out of the memory.

My brother, Attwater, burst in, bringing a gust of the freezing night air with him.

He pulled me into a bear hug, then flashed that big, oblivious grin of his. "Trista! I just passed the Primrose Wing—I saw Cassian out there!"

My smile died on my face.

Ulva turned to me instantly. "Did he drive you here?"

"No," I said, staring at the floor. "He's visiting a friend. I just hitched a ride."

I forced a stiff, fake smile. "I'm gonna go grab some air." I bolted before they could see the cracks in my mask.

The Primrose Wing was dead silent, smelling faintly of that medicinal evening primrose oil.

I didn't need to ask for directions; I just followed a self-destructive gut feeling until I hit a door that was cracked open just a hair.

I could smell him. Cassian's scent was all over the place, tangled up with Samantha's—hers was sweet and hazy, like melting ice.

My wolf fangs slid out, the sharp tips pricking my lip.

Inside, my wolf was baring its teeth, its claws raking my insides as a fire of pure, unadulterated rage started to spread.

I peeked through the gap. The Alpha who stood like a god to the rest of the pack was kneeling on the floor by a hospital bed.

He was focused, almost reverent, as he gently rubbed Samantha's cold feet.

He moved like he was handling something priceless, something that might shatter if he breathed too hard.

"Cassian, stay with me tonight? Please?" Samantha whispered, her fingers playing with the hair at his temples.

He didn't say no.

He looked up, and the eyes that were always cold and empty when they looked at me were suddenly full of a tenderness so deep it could drown you.

Right then, I felt the mating bond in my chest shudder. I heard a sharp, crystalline crack—a sound only I could hear.

I closed my eyes and counted to ten, crushing that explosion of pain inch by inch until I could shove it back into my bones.

Then I saw the glint on her ankle. A circle of diamonds throwing off cold sparks in the dim light.

My heart bottomed out. I looked down at the glittering diamond bracelet on my own wrist.

Just minutes ago, I was still deluding myself, thinking it was some romantic "third-anniversary gift."

But there it was. Samantha was wearing the exact same one on her ankle.

What was this?

A bulk-buy to soothe his guilty conscience? A "buy-one-get-one-free" deal to keep both women quiet?

The shaking stopped. I felt a weird, total calm wash over me.

I reached down and unclipped the clasp. The heavy bracelet slid off and hit the carpet without a sound. It was just like my dignity over the last three years—cheap, silent, and tossed aside.

Maybe the silent scream from my wolf was too loud, because Cassian's shoulders suddenly went rigid.

Before he could look back and catch me, I turned and walked away. I couldn't stomach another second of his "devotion."

I headed for the elevators. I heard heavy, frantic footsteps pounding down the hall behind me, but I didn't slow down.

The elevator doors slid open, and the mirrored walls showed me exactly who I was: pale, but with eyes as dead as a graveyard.

Just as the doors were about to lock, a large, scarred hand slammed into the sensor.

"Trista!" Cassian panted, standing in the gap.

His chest was heaving. For the first time, his deep, calculated eyes held a flicker of something I'd never seen before: panic.

He let out a massive wave of mate pheromones—a thick, suffocating net designed to wrap around me and pull me back into line.

He thought a little bit of "Alpha charm" would make me the loyal Luna again.

I just stared at those invisible threads. I reached into my mind and snapped the connection with a single, sharp flick of my will.

Cassian recoiled, his body jolting as if he'd been punched.

He stared at me, his hand freezing in mid-air as he reached for me.

As the doors finally hummed shut, I looked at his shocked, pathetic face and spoke without making a sound, "Go to hell."