The Heartbroken Luna's Choice Banish Love novel Chapter 211

Chapter 211

Third Person’s POV

When Cassian pushed the door open after finishing the paperwork, he found Samantha helpfully draping a windbreaker over Trista’s shoulders.

The moment Samantha sensed his suffocating Alpha presence, her survival instincts kicked in, and she reflexively shrunk back behind Trista.

Trista, however, was unnervingly composed. She took her time packing her comm–stone and clothes, acting as if she didn’t even notice the static of tension crackling in the air.

Cassian’s icy gaze flickered between the two she–wolves before locking onto Samantha.

A low, predatory rumble vibrated in his throat–a warning only another wolf could hear. “Why are you here?”

Samantha went ghostly pale. As a low–ranking werewolf, she could barely find her voice under his pressure. “I… I just came to apologize to Luna Trista.”

“Are you done?” Cassian clipped out, his pupils vibrating with restrained fury.

Samantha nodded frantically.

“Then get out.” The words were as cold and jagged as an Arctic glacier.

Samantha hesitated for a heartbeat, trying to use his guilt to gain some ground.

“Cassian, Trista has already been gracious enough to forgive me. We were just talking…”

“Don’t make me repeat myself!” Cassian barked, his aura causing the temperature in the room to plummet.

Samantha snuck a final, wounded look at Trista before hanging her head and scurrying out of the room like her life depended on it.

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Trista watched her flee, then turned to face Cassian. Her voice was terrifyingly level. “Since you’ve made promises to Samantha and clearly view her as a victim, I understand. I know what it’s like to love someone you can’t have. When there are no outsiders around, you don’t need to put on a show for me. I get how hard it’s been for you two to carry on behind the back of our contract all these years.”

Their eyes locked. Trista’s tone was so casual, so breezy, that Cassian’s fists squeezed shut until his knuckles cracked.

He looked toward the door where Samantha had vanished, his eyes flashing with a cruelty that made the room feel like a tomb.

“I’m sorry… I’m leaving now!” Samantha’s voice echoed from the hall as she bolted.

Trista watched the chaos and sighed inwardly.

Cassian was too caught up in the rules–he didn’t have the balls to blow up the status quo and give Samantha and Algernon a real future.

16:32 Tue, Jan 13 MGJ

Chapter 211

The Ironthorn elders would rather force him into another political mating than accept a rogue, and Samantha was too used to being his puppet.

If Trista didn’t give this “happy family of three” a push from behind, they were never going to make it.

She picked an orange out of the fruit basket, peeled it, and took a bite.

Then, she held a piece out to Cassian. “Samantha bought these. They’re actually really juicy. Want a taste?”

Cassian didn’t take the fruit. Instead, he grabbed her wrist, his grip bordering on a total loss of control.

“I’m going to warn her,” he rasped, his voice thick with a beastly growl. “She is never to step foot near you again. You won’t have to smell her scent ever again.”

Trista pulled her hand back with zero emotion. She set the orange down and picked up a wet wipe, meticulously cleaning her fingers. The gesture was elegant, but pointed–she was scrubbing his Alpha scent off her skin right in front of him.

“Cassian, I think I was being too narrow–minded before,” she said. “When I think about it, powerful Alphas in the past always kept ‘breeders‘ on the side for reproduction. Everyone else just focused on holding the territory and moved on with their lives. As long as the pack stays stable, what’s one more rogue mistress?”

Cassian felt a sharp, stabbing pain in his chest.

He stared at her, hunting for a single trace of sarcasm or hidden rage on her beautiful face. But there was nothing. Only a cold, bottomless indifference.

Trista looked up, meeting those dark, predatory eyes. “If this is my life–destined to be stuck with an Alpha who doesn’t understand the concept of loyalty–then fine. I accept it.”

Cassian’s lips thinned into a hard line. The look he gave her was a mess of desperation and growing panic. That sense of a “failing connection“-the feeling that her soul was drifting away from his–left him chilled to the bone.

Cassian didn’t take it. Instead, he grabbed Trista’s wrist.

His grip was white–knuckled, almost out of control–as if he were trying to physically burn his Alpha mark into her very marrow.

“I’ll warn her,” he rasped, a low, beastly growl vibrating deep in his throat. “She won’t set foot near you again. I’ll make sure you never have to smell her scent ever again.”

Trista’s face remained a mask of indifference as she yanked her hand back. She picked up a wet wipe and began to clean her fingers with a slow, almost theatrical elegance–scrubbing away his Alpha scent right in front of him like it was toxic waste.

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