The Heartbroken Luna's Choice Banish Love novel Chapter 303

Third Person's POV

Cassian sat in his office chair, elbows on the desk, his head resting in his crossed hands.

His voice was low, laced with a dangerous edge. "A lead this big... why did it take years to find?"

Humphrey braced himself for the fallout. "Alpha Cassian, when Thad was with Samantha's ex-husband's family, he hadn't mated yet. When Crispin had his accident, that man and woman had already moved to different cities and started their own small packs. They weren't on the radar back then."

"Besides," Humphrey continued, "Crispin's case is closed, and it happened overseas. Now that Samantha is back in LA, we can't confirm she's directly linked to it yet."

Cassian stood up slowly, his voice like a blade. "Keep digging."

Years ago, Howard had given him an ultimatum: if Cassian chose Samantha, he had to forfeit his inheritance to his half-brother, Crispin.

Back then, Samantha claimed she was sacrificing herself for his future, accepting exile and a mating abroad to protect his status.

Now, a thousand dark possibilities were screaming in Cassian's head.

A few hours later, he returned to the villa.

Paisley met him in the kitchen.

When she told him the Luna wasn't back yet, Cassian headed into the walk-in closet in the master suite.

He reached into the back of a cabinet and pulled out an old school blazer.

Since he was a boy, Cassian had known about his father's betrayal—that there was a younger half-brother out there.

In his memory, he had hated that child he'd never met.

Because of that boy's existence, the packhouse had been a battlefield of constant shouting. It never felt like a home.

Then came a campus fair during his college years. The sun was blinding.

Cassian was on the field, putting his Alpha strength on display.

In the stands, a young boy wouldn't stop cheering for him.

After the game, that boy in the school blazer ran up to him and handed him a bottle of water.

He spread his blazer on the grass for Cassian to sit on, flashing a wide, toothy grin. "Hey, Cassian. I'm Crispin. I'm your brother."

Afraid of being rejected, Crispin added quickly, "Don't be mad. My mom told me about you, and I just wanted to see you for myself. I'll leave right after this. I'm not here to steal your inheritance or anything."

In that moment, Cassian decided having a brother might not be so bad.

As Crispin left, he looked up and asked, "Once I'm eighteen, can I come find you again?"

Cassian had nodded, almost in a trance.

Crispin left, leaving the blazer behind.

Four years later, the Ironthorns received word of his "accidental" death abroad.

He died during the winter of his eighteenth year.

He stood there, staring at Trista's icy reflection in the mirror.

"Of course," he thought. "She hates me. Why would she trust me or support me now?"

His eyes drifted to the handmade charm she'd just finished.

"Why are you making that?" he asked softly.

Trista stood up and looked him straight in the eye. "Cassian, I had a nightmare last night. A little boy kept calling me 'Mommy.' He told me he was so cold."

The air left Cassian's lungs.

His eyes turned a haunted red. His throat worked as he tried to reach for her hand. "I'm sorry. It's all my fault."

Trista wrenched her hand away and slammed the charm into his palm.

"I drew what he would have looked like. I made a 3D image and sealed it inside this glass pendant," Trista said, her voice like a jagged shard of ice.

"You're so 'charitable,' Cassian. You give your whole heart to other men's kids. Since your own son is cold, I'm sure you can use all that 'Alpha warmth' to keep him cozy, right?"

She turned and walked away.

At the door, she looked back. Cassian had collapsed into a chair as if his bones had turned to dust.

His eyes were streaming with tears as he pressed that cold, hard glass pendant—the one holding the image of his lost son—tightly against his heart.