The Heartbroken Luna's Choice Banish Love novel Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

**Trista’s POV**

I felt as if I were adrift in an endless sea of darkness, a void that enveloped me completely. Time lost all meaning, and for what felt like an eternity, I lingered in this profound silence. Then, like a soft whisper carried on the wind, I heard my wolf’s voice calling out to me from a great distance.

It was a faint sound, as if it were struggling to break through layers of ice and water, thin and fragile, yet it resonated deep within my chest, echoing through my bones. My wolf was reaching out, urging me to return, to rise from the depths of my unconsciousness. Though its voice was weak, it still fought to guide me toward the light.

I felt a pull, an irresistible urge to follow that call, and so I began my ascent. On the third morning, as the world around me slowly came into view, I finally opened my eyes.

At first, everything was a blinding white, an overwhelming brightness that made me squint. Gradually, shapes and colors began to materialize, and the starkness faded into a more familiar setting. My head felt light, as if filled with cotton, weighed down by the damp air surrounding me. But the call of my wolf was now much closer, its presence a comforting warmth against my sternum, urging me gently, “Wake up.”

As my consciousness returned, fragments of memories flickered in my mind. I recalled that I had an important interview scheduled with Dr. Spencer regarding my mentorship, but I had missed it. A wave of anxiety washed over me; I needed to explain what had happened.

With a sense of determination, I pushed the bedroom door open and stepped out into the hallway. The study door was slightly ajar, and I could hear a steady, low voice emanating from within. I paused, recognizing the voice immediately—it was Cassian. I noted the time; it was a workday, well past ten in the morning, yet he hadn’t left the house.

Just then, he ended his call and emerged from the study, his gaze locking onto mine as I stood at the end of the hall. He approached me with purpose, raising his hand to check my forehead, concern etched on his features.

I instinctively turned my head away, unwilling to meet his gaze.

His expression shifted, darkening with disappointment. “Trista, is this really how a she-wolf should treat her mate?” he asked, his voice laced with hurt.

I chose to ignore him, turning my back and heading toward the stairs. Inside, I was seething, wanting to unleash all the bitterness that had been festering in my heart. But I felt drained, both physically and emotionally. The bond we shared felt like a tightening band around my chest, making it hard to breathe. If I dared to speak, I feared my breath would shatter under the weight of my emotions.

We returned to the bedroom, the air thick with unspoken tension. Neither of us mentioned the phrases “terminating the contract” or “loyalty,” but it was clear that those topics hung heavily between us, suffocating any other conversation.

As I approached the dressing room, Cassian seized my wrist, pulling me back to face him. “Why didn’t you Mind-Link me when your wolf was so weak? You were unconscious for three days! Do you even realize that?”

I looked up at him, my voice flat and devoid of emotion. “I was afraid of interrupting your time with her.”

The faint trace of pheromones that lingered on me, nearly extinguished, made his gaze falter for just a moment. His eyes widened slightly before he regained his composure, shifting gears. “I’m flying to France this afternoon for work. The photography studio is delivering the wedding photos today. You should—”

“I don’t have time,” I interrupted, pulling my hand free from his grasp.

His voice turned sharp, frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. “Trista, you’ve argued, you’ve thrown tantrums, you’ve broken things. Just stop this now!”

I simply stared at him, turned, and closed the dressing room door with a soft click, cutting off the conversation.

A short while later, I heard a knock at the main door. “Alpha Cassian, are you ready to leave?” Humphrey’s voice called out, steady and professional.

Cassian replied, “Push the departure time back by two hours.”

She lacked any visible pack aura or emblem residue, her pheromones distinctly independent. This woman was a rogue, without a doubt.

Her gaze swept over Wynn before she spoke, her tone measured and calm. “Excuse me, miss. Is your last name Simmons?”

Wynn took the paper from her, glancing at me with a hint of concern. She seemed to notice my slightly unsteady breathing as she asked the rogue, “Do I know you?”

The woman raised her left hand, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, her smile polite but unyielding. “I was just passing by and overheard this young lady call you Wynn. A friend of mine has a sister with the same name. Just curious.”

A chill ran through me, and I felt the blood drain from my face. My fingertips turned icy as I focused on her appearance, and a familiar scene began to replay in my mind.

She took a step closer, and a faint scent wafted from her breath—sweet and warm, enveloped in a hint of mist, reminiscent of freshly melted ice.

That lingering trace—it was a scent I had encountered before. It was the same residue that clung to Cassian’s collar just days ago. The layers and finish were strikingly similar.

My wolf let out a deep, low growl from within me, its ears perking up in alarm. My throat tightened, a sharp click echoing in the silence.

I let my gaze fall to her left wrist, where a circle of cold light cut through the air. A diamond bracelet—identical to the one Cassian had given me.

In that instant, my suspicions crystallized into a painful reality. The woman standing before me was the one who held the key to Cassian’s heart—Samantha.