The Heartbroken Luna's Choice Banish Love novel Chapter 337

Third Person's POV

Late at night， Cassian fought through the stabbing pain in his fractured leg, moving with agonizing care to avoid his injuries as he lifted Trista from the sofa.

She was curled up in her sleep, looking small. Even in her dreams, her brow was furrowed—a lingering defense against his Alpha presence.

He carefully tucked her into the hospital bed, which was filled with her soothing herbal scent. Then, he sat by her side, his large hand tightly enveloping her cool one.

He sat like that for a long time, watching her, greedily drinking in the scent that finally made his soul feel at peace.

The next morning, the first rays of sunlight cut through the L.A. fog. Trista woke up as her mental senses began to stir.

Cassian caught the shift immediately. "The packhouse just sent breakfast. Come eat," he said, his voice deep.

Trista finished getting ready and walked over, her amber eyes flicking toward his bandaged leg.

"So, you're really checking out today?" she asked, her voice skeptical.

Cassian gave a low grunt of affirmation as he pulled out a chair for her.

"You... you aren't going to use your Alpha authority to go after Isaiah anymore, are you?" Trista finally asked. There was a faint, nervous tension in her voice.

Cassian was about to pick up a bowl of soup, but his fingers tightened at the question, his spoon clinking sharply against the porcelain.

He turned his head, his dark gaze locking onto her face.

His voice was a rasp, like he'd been burned. "Since you consider him a friend, I won't cause trouble for the Lockes."

Trista's shoulders finally slumped in relief.

She picked up a cherry tomato and held it to his lips. "You haven't fully recovered. You need the nutrition."

Cassian lowered his gaze and obeyed, letting the sweet flavor burst on his tongue.

He stared at her face, so close he could see every detail. A dark gold light flickered in his eyes—this sudden, rare moment of intimacy made his restless wolf let out a satisfied whimper.

But he knew the truth. Behind this sudden "kindness" was a cold, final wall.

Humphrey knocked on the door, his voice low. "Alpha Cassian, the car is downstairs."

Seeing that it was time to leave, Trista became more helpful than she'd been in weeks.

She grabbed his black suit jacket and held it out for him, even reaching up to smooth his collar.

Cassian looked down at her, feeling like a piece of his heart was being ripped out.

In the past, her touch was driven by the raw joy of their mating bond; every pore of her skin used to crave his mark.

By noon, Humphrey had managed to get Samantha and the boy to a safe house Cassian had arranged.

When Samantha saw Cassian was already there, she burst into tears.

She tried to throw herself at him, but Cassian walked straight past her toward Humphrey.

Samantha caught nothing but air, standing there awkwardly.

Cassian stared at Humphrey. "It's broad daylight. Why are you wearing a mask?"

Humphrey pulled it down, revealing a face covered in raw, angry scratches.

Cassian winced.

"I went to talk her down like you asked," Humphrey explained, sounding miserable. "And I ran into Grace and Mia again. And... a few others."

Cassian patted his shoulder. "They're family. It's fine."

Humphrey silently pulled his mask back up.

Cassian turned his cold gaze toward Samantha. "I actually thought you were a decent mother, Samantha. I didn't think you'd take your own kid to a rooftop to jump."

Samantha covered her face, sobbing. "Cassian, I have nothing. No money, no job, no friends. Your mother keeps hounding me for money—I'm losing my mind. My depression is getting worse; I can't sleep. If I knew coming back meant living like this, we should have just stayed in France and died there!"