The Heartbroken Luna's Choice Banish Love novel Chapter 173

Chapter 173 

Third Person’s POV 

She followed up by dusting a layer of black salt over the perimeter of the wounds to insulate the residual aura, preventing the cuts from reopening if his emotions spiked during the night. 

Finally, she brought out a dark healing salve. 

The paste smelled of pine resin and wormwood. She used the pads of her fingers to spread the medicine along the edges of the gashes, avoiding the deepest parts and pressing only into the jagged flesh and burn marks. This allowed his natural healing to stabilize rather than letting it flare up into a feverish mess. 

Cassian’s back muscles corded slightly, but he didn’t make a sound. 

Trista reminded him in an even voice, “These two gashes reached the muscle. Don’t release your pheromones for the next couple of days, and avoid hot water. Wait until the burn marks fade.” 

She pulled her hand back, making no move to linger. 

Suddenly, Cassian turned around and caught her wrist. His grip wasn’t heavy, but it was enough to stop her in her tracks. 

He stared into her eyes, his voice dropping to a low rasp. “Do you actually care about me?” 

Trista found the question bordering on the absurd. 

She let out a dry, mirthless chuckle. “Compared to Samantha, does my ‘care‘ really even matter to you?” 

The emotions Cassian had been struggling to keep down flared back to life at her words. 

The mating bond–that unsevered cord in the depths of his chest–pulled tight. Instinctively, he reached out, hooked his arm around her waist, and yanked her close, pinning her firmly against his lap. 

The sudden proximity forced his pheromones to leak out. 

The familiar scent hit Trista’s senses; her body stiffened reflexively, but she didn’t immediately pull away. 

Cassian looked down at her, interrogating her again. “Trista, can you just talk to me like a normal person for once?” 

Trista forced herself to remain detached, acting as if she were ignoring her body’s physical reaction to him. 

She spoke with clinical precision, reverting back to the tone she used when treating his wounds. “You have injuries on your back. You shouldn’t be straining yourself, or-” 

Before she could finish, Cassian silenced her with a kiss. 

It was sudden, but not frantic. 

One hand was clamped on her waist while the other cradled the back of her head, locking her within the sphere of his presence. 

The kiss was aggressively dominant, yet it carried that undeniable pull inherent between mated wolves. It felt like a confirmation–a desperate test to see if she would still respond. 

Their lips met, and their breathing quickly spiraled out of rhythm. 

Pheromones intertwined in the small space. Her mind screamed to resist, but her body was already instinctively adapting to his touch. 

Her struggle wasn’t violent; it was more of a hesitant, pulled–apart confusion. 

Seeing him sit up through the mirror, she didn’t turn around; she simply offered a natural reminder. “I’ve laid out your suit. Your watch and cufflinks are on the dresser. Use the grey tie.” 

Cassian stood behind her, watching her flawless, polished profile in the glass. Hearing these perfect, detached arrangements made his heart sink even lower. 

Paisley had prepared breakfast, but neither of them did more than pick at it. 

At exactly 7:00 AM, Trista linked her arm with Cassian’s and walked onto the stage conference. of the press 

Facing a sea of lenses and a barrage of sharp questions, she was the picture of poise and grace. 

She glanced at Cassian and noticed his jaw was set like stone, his pheromones held in a tight, cold grip that screamed get away from me. 

Trista took the initiative. In front of the entire media, she reached up and gently straightened his tie. 

The gesture looked intimate and natural, perfectly dampening the restless energy in the room. 

When it was her turn to speak, she ignored the script Humphrey had prepared. Instead, she addressed the flashing lights directly. 

She explained that while visiting her mother at the hospital, she had accidentally broken a young boy’s water gun, so she had asked her husband to help her pick out a replacement. 

She stated that the child her husband was seen holding was a relative’s son, and that she had been present at the time. 

She interlaced her fingers with Cassian’s, holding his hand with a warm, firm grip. She told the world that their mating was stronger than ever and that their legal team would be investigating the source of the rumors to pursue full accountability. 

Before ending the session, she turned to Cassian in front of the cameras and said with a playful, effortless tone that she’d been craving his handmade matcha truffles again.