The Heartbroken Luna's Choice Banish Love novel Chapter 334

Third Person's POV

Cassian was about to say something when an impatient knock rattled the door.

Before Trista could even stand up, Isaiah pushed his way in, sticking his head into the room.

He radiated that signature cold Locke Pack energy, holding a greasy paper bag. "Hey, anyone want some rotisserie chicken?"

The second Cassian saw him, his restless wolf flared with pure territorial aggression. His appetite vanished instantly.

Isaiah didn't care; he marched right into the VIP suite, tossed the chicken onto the dining table, and pulled up a chair like he owned the place.

Seeing Cassian's thunderous expression, Isaiah began talking nonsense with a straight face. "Look, an apology has to be sincere. Words are cheap. Alpha Cassian, you lost a lot of blood and your wolf is weak—you need your protein. These two drumsticks are all yours."

Cassian reached out and clamped a hand onto Trista's shoulder. The possessive touch sent waves of Alpha pressure rolling through the small room. His voice was stiff and cold. "I'm not hungry. Help me back to the bed."

Trista went along with it, helping the agitated Alpha settle back into the pillows.

She could feel the heat radiating off his skin; his inner beast was losing its mind, revolting against the scent of a rival Alpha in his space.

"You rest for a bit," Trista said soothingly. "Isaiah and I will eat first. Once you calm down and get an appetite, let me know."

Cassian let out a frustrated grunt and stared at the ceiling, looking completely done with the situation.

Trista sat back down at the table. Isaiah handed her a drumstick. "Good, more for us. One for you, one for me."

Trista started sliding some of the side dishes onto Isaiah's plate. "Try this—the Ironthorn chefs are actually pretty good."

Cassian watched them from the bed, his expression a mask of fury.

His scent, which had been quieted by his injury, was starting to turn violent again.

He remembered how meals used to be: Trista would always be glued to his side, making sure he got the first bite of anything she liked.

When his wolf was hurt, she used to wrap him in her scent constantly.

Now, he was lying there bleeding, and she was acting like a cold-hearted prison guard, letting some punk wolf trample all over his dignity.

Cassian shut his eyes tight, unable to look at the two of them for another second.

After lunch, Trista cleaned up the mess.

Humphrey's temple throbbed.

If Cassian hadn't ordered him to keep this mess stable for now, he would have called the sentries to dump her outside the city limits.

"Miss Fernandez," he said coldly. "My accounts are managed by my mate. I don't have access to a cent outside of pack funds."

"Not even a few thousand?"

Samantha's tears started to roll down her hollow cheeks. "So Cassian really is cutting us off? He's going to let us starve in the street?"

The sour, crying rogue scent was giving Humphrey a headache.

He finally buckled just to get her to shut up. "Fine. Ten thousand. That is literally all I have in my personal account."

Samantha snatched the money instantly. She had zero intention of paying it back.

Just as the transfer went through, a flurry of footsteps echoed down the hall.

Humphrey's mate, Grace, was pushing a stroller with her sister, Mia, right behind her. They stopped dead, catching the entire exchange.