Trista’s POV
His embrace closed around me like a cage. The mating bond in my chest gave a violent yank, and my wolf let out a low, pathetic keening. It fought him harder than ever, the urge to claw surfacing as a burn in my fingertips.
He ignored my struggling and pulled me tighter.
I could see a fracture in his eyes–a flicker of heartache he couldn’t quite suppress.
“Trista,” he rasped, his voice impossibly soft. “Everyone has a past. Samantha is just mine, and so is that kid. Stop holding onto my past like it’s a weapon.”
“The past?” I let out a sound that was half–laugh, half–sob.
I couldn’t break free, so I did the only thing I could: I bit his shoulder.
The copper tang of blood exploded in my mouth, and my wolf finally caught its breath for a fleeting second.
Cassian stiffened, his breathing hitching from the pain.
He loosened his grip slightly, but he didn’t let go.
I grabbed a fistful of his suit jacket, clutching it until my knuckles went white.
His scent still clung to me, a net made of air keeping me trapped.
My wolf let out a low rumble of a snarl beneath my skin.
“Your ‘past‘ is backstabbing me right now for that she–wolf,” I said, fighting back the surge of emotion. “Your ‘past‘ is you promising to play provider for them for the rest of your life. I’m not the one holding onto your past, Cassian–you are the one dragging Samantha and her son out of the past, into the present, and all the way into our future!”
We stared each other down. The air felt like a heavy stone pressed against my chest by his Alpha aura; even breathing felt like a chore.
“Looking after them doesn’t mean I’m throwing away our contract,” he explained, his voice low and steady. “It doesn’t mean I’m giving up on you.”
He paused, as if swallowing back something sharper. “I’ll admit, I’ve handled things poorly since she got back. But it’s not what you think between us.”
I looked into his eyes, feeling as numb as frozen snow.
The bond was still burning, but heat didn’t mean it’s whole. It felt like a raw nerve–touch it, and it hurts.
“You said it yourself, Cassian–Samantha was the one you actually wanted to mate with. You don’t love me. And since you don’t love me, just let me go!”
Cassian’s face darkened, inch by inch, like night falling over the room.
I could see the shadow of his wolf thrashing in his eyes, but he kept it on a short leash.
“Is love really that big of a deal to you?” he asked.
The question was so absurd I almost laughed.
I gave him a look of pure scorn. “You’ve spent years pining for Samantha. You tell me if it’s a ‘big deal.”

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