The Heartbroken Luna's Choice Banish Love novel Chapter 171

Chapter 171 

Third Person’s POV 

Back then, when the whip had lashed across her back, her whole body had jolted. She had turned deathly pale in an instant, but she hadn’t budged. 

He had called her a fool under his breath. 

She had been shaking from the pain, yet she still managed to give him a small smile. 

It was a stubborn, genuine smile, carrying the raw, unpolished spark of a young Luna. 

She said she was willing. 

She said she just wanted to be his shield. 

But now, she stood only a few feet away. 

She was close enough to touch, yet it felt like they were separated by an uncrossable border. 

She wouldn’t even grant him a glance, as if she had personally buried every trace of that past impulsiveness and devotion. 

Alaina stood beside her mate, her fingers twisting unconsciously. 

She watched her son kneeling on the floor, taking the hits with a rigid spine, his with red–yet he refused to stop staring at Trista. 

eyes rimmed 

In his gaze, there was a messy tangle of lupine obsession and the sheer instability of being completely ignored. 

Alaina was a mix of fury and heartbreak; she eventually had to look away. 

She saw the bloody welts opening on her son’s back and smelled the sharp tang of iron mixing with the cold, medicinal scent of the ceremonial whip. It felt like something was blocking her chest. 

She saw the truth clearly now: no matter how brutal the punishment, if the mate offers no reaction, the physical pain morphs into a much more agonizing kind of torture. 

The most terrifying thing in a marriage isn’t the fighting. 

It’s when one pours themselves out, and the other doesn’t even blink. 

Trista’s greatest tragedy was sinking her best years and her most sincere heart into a man who never knew how to value her. 

A few minutes later, Howard raised his hand. 

The Gamma immediately retracted the whip with a crisp motion. 

Another omega stepped forward to support Cassian, helping him steady himself. 

Finished 

The back of Cassian’s white shirt was soaked through with blood, the fabric clinging to his skin, revealing the jagged welts and weeping crimson. 

That was an opportunity she had earned herself–it was her exit strategy. 

Her family and her career were her final lines in the sand. 

She wouldn’t let anyone trample them again. 

Cassian’s gaze deepened as he watched her. 

He finally saw the real motive behind her play. 

She had used the media to drag the fire back to Ironthorn and used the scandal to force the elders‘ hands. It wasn’t about revenge; it was about insurance. She was making sure Howard couldn’t reach out and crush her job. 

Wilmot snarled, “Ingrate! The Luna of the great Ironthorn pack running out to earn pocket change? You’re making a laughingstock of us!” 

Cassian stepped in to block him, his tone light but heavy enough to stifle Wilmot’s fire. “Dad, watch your tone. I support Trista in her career.” 

Trista, standing right beside him, didn’t feel a flicker of emotion at that “support.” 

She knew the truth. 

In the vocabulary of Ironthorn, “support” was a pose that could be retracted at any moment. it wasn’t a guarantee, and it wasn’t a promise. 

She wanted a deal that would actually stick. 

After a long silence, Howard finally relented, giving his final decree. “It’s good for young people to work. We agree to your terms. But for the press conference tomorrow… you know how you need to perform.”