The Heartbroken Luna's Choice Banish Love novel Chapter 31

**Where Soft Light Shines Darkness Fades From Tired Hearts by Evan Holt Crane**
**Chapter 31**

**Trista’s POV**

His voice rose, carrying the unmistakable weight of an Alpha’s authority. “Trista, stop labeling her. She is not like that.”

The atmosphere thickened around us, a tangible pressure that made my ears hum with a rising tension.

I lifted my gaze to meet his, and in that moment, I felt a sharp pang in my chest, as if a vital thread that connected us had abruptly snapped, leaving an aching void in its wake.

I observed his knuckles tighten, the muscles in his jaw clenching with a rigidity that spoke volumes. This wasn’t merely an explanation he was offering; it was a defensive stance, a protective barrier erected between us. But the person he was shielding wasn’t me.

I had poured out my feelings, laid my heart bare, yet all he could focus on was the label I had placed on his cherished one, branding her a homewrecker.

Inside me, my wolf emitted a soft whimper, a sound that echoed my own internal turmoil.

With a bitter laugh laced with self-deprecation, I steadied my voice. “Fine. Then the one who isn’t loved must be the one who doesn’t belong, right?”

His silence was deafening, a stark contrast to the turmoil swirling around us.

The faint, soothing scent that usually enveloped me lingered in the air, yet my scent gland patch stood resolute, blocking its entrance. It was as if a protective barrier had been erected, preventing any comfort from reaching me.

The mating bond stirred within me, a gentle yet painful reminder of what we once shared, akin to a pinprick that had been hastily sewn shut.

The ache was palpable.

I let the pretense of a smile fade away. “In your eyes, it seems I’m the one who doesn’t fit into this picture.”

He pressed his fingers against his temple, a sign of his growing frustration. His breath hitched, and the hand he had extended toward me fell back, suspended in the air. “That’s not what I meant.”

I instinctively stepped back, creating a physical distance that echoed the emotional chasm between us. “If you care for her so deeply, why not just end this contract with me and mate with her? I’ll walk away empty-handed. I’ll make it easy for you.”

His expression darkened, the intensity of his gaze tightening as if he were forcefully restraining his Alpha aura within himself. “I have no immediate plans to replace you as Luna.”

“Immediate?”

My heart felt as though it had been struck by a heavy blow. The mating bond beneath my ribs constricted further, a painful reminder of our connection.

His words were so clinical, so detached, creating an icy barrier between us.

My throat felt parched, but I pushed the words out with a fierce determination, “She’s emotional. You’re worried about her. I understand that you want me to apologize. But I am the Ironthorn Luna, recognized by The Elder Council. Your mate. You expect me to apologize to your ex-lover? That might be acceptable—I could go to the Shifter Council right now. I’ll call for a public meeting and lay everything bare. Do you dare to let me do that, Alpha Cassian?”

His eyes hardened, the tension in the air thickening. “Trista, I am your mate.”

I turned my face away, avoiding his penetrating gaze and the scent that clung to him. “The moment you walked away from me, braving the rain to fetch her and her child, you ceased to be my mate.”

His breath felt like a weight pressing down on me, and his Alpha aura enveloped the room, silencing everything around us. My chest constricted painfully. “You know I despise being threatened.”

I fought to suppress my emotions, even as my eyes threatened to betray me. “If you refuse, I’ll apologize to her right now, right in front of all my colleagues at the Royal Healing Institute. I will declare: ‘I, Luna Trista, out of jealousy, vandalized the other woman’s apartment and sent her to the clinic, and I was coerced by my mate to apologize. Let the entire city hear it.’”

Rising to leave, I felt his hand grasp my arm, pulling me back into his embrace.

His solid chest pressed against me, and I felt my footing slip as the mating bond twisted painfully within me.

She didn’t address me as “Luna Trista” in public, opting instead for the familiarity of my first name.

Dressed in understated elegance, the familiar circle of diamond light sparkled on her wrist, a reminder of her status.

Her scent was diluted by the lobby’s ventilation, leaving only a faint trace that lingered in the air.

I had no desire for any private exchange with her.

I steadied my breath, gripping my female colleague’s arm to halt her. “Ms. Fernandez, please speak.”

The wind from the lobby rushed in through the automatic doors, mingling with the sharp scent of disinfectant and the ethereal essence of moonstone steam.

She positioned herself in front of my colleague, her voice low yet deliberately audible to those nearby. “I heard you have tomorrow off, so I hurried over. I wanted to sincerely apologize.”

I scrutinized her, taking in every detail.

Her omega gland patch was secured tightly, her scent suppressed to a minimum, like a sweetness delicately wrapped in paper.

Her features were unremarkable, yet she had mastered the art of presenting “vulnerability” as a form of etiquette.

I remained silent, refusing to respond.

She took a half-step closer, her eyes softening with feigned sincerity. “I know Wynn confronted me because of you. But this all started with me. I formally apologize. Let’s put this behind us.”

Her eyes glimmered with an exaggerated softness as she added, “I just moved back. I don’t have many friends in this city. I really want to be friends with you.”