The Heartbroken Luna's Choice Banish Love novel Chapter 346

Third Person's POV

She packed the last of her essentials into the suitcase, pulled off her heavy wedding ring, and tossed it into the nightstand drawer without a second thought.

After today, she would never have to step foot in this suffocating pack again.

In the study, Cassian was throwing back one glass of hard liquor after another.

He wanted to get drunk—to numb his sharp senses and completely empty his brain.

But as an Alpha, alcohol only made him more alert. The panic in his chest was like a wildfire on a dry plain, burning hotter by the second.

The clock on the wall hit 4:30 AM. Only five hours left.

Cassian finally broke.

He took his spare key and unlocked the master bedroom. Using the faint light filtering through the curtains, he crawled onto the other side of the bed.

He reached across the covers and pulled Trista into his arms, closing his eyes with a greedy desperation.

Years ago, he had suffered from chronic insomnia caused by a restless wolf.

After they mated, Trista had tried a thousand different healing techniques on him, but he never told her the truth: it wasn't the medicine that calmed his violent nature. It was her.

Trista had a faint, herbal scent—the smell of someone who spent their life around healing salves.

Just smelling her made his frayed nerves unwind.

For three years, no matter how busy pack business got, he never spent a night away from home.

Ever since she'd asked for ending the mating, his sleep had completely disintegrated.

Cassian pulled her a little closer and made a silent, fierce vow, "Trista, we'll start over after the papers are signed. I'll do whatever it takes to make you want to come back to me. I don't want anyone else but you."

In the morning, Trista opened her eyes and found Cassian beside her.

He was in rumpled pajamas, sleeping deeply, his brow furrowed into a tight knot. One of his hands was clamped around her wrist, gripping her as if he were afraid she'd vanish the moment he let go.

Trista watched him for a long, silent minute before prying his fingers off and waking him up.

Cassian groaned, fighting through a brutal hangover. His vision was blurry, but he saw Trista standing over him, her eyes cold and distant.

He sat up and tried to reach for her hand. "I drank too much last night," he rasped. "Don't take it to heart."

"The Altar opens at nine sharp. We need to go," Trista said, pulling her hand away and giving him zero room for tenderness. "Go get cleaned up."

She didn't care if he was actually drunk or just pretending. All she cared about was getting that certificate of severance today.

At 8:00 AM, they walked out of the house.

Trista carried a simple white carry-on bag, dressed in a sharp, minimalist gray outfit that made her look professional and completely unreachable.

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