Trista’s POV
Outside, the wind howled through the Ironthorn banner, a mournful, cold sound that echoed the turmoil within me.
My aura, usually a flickering flame of control, began to spiral out of my grasp. Deep inside my mind, my wolf howled in fury, a wild animal desperate to break free.
Cassian, sensing the storm brewing within me, reached out and grasped my hand firmly. His presence was commanding, and he released his own dominance, a palpable force that enveloped us both.
It felt as if a frigid tide surged from his chest, an icy wave pressing down upon my shoulders and constricting my throat.
His voice, low and dangerous, sliced through the tension in the air. “You are the Luna of Ironthorn. How dare you speak to your Alpha like that?”
I was compelled to lift my gaze to meet his. The image of the half-open door at the Evening Primrose Ward flitted through my mind—an unwelcome reminder of the chaos that lay beyond.
In that moment, my emotions snapped like a tightly wound string, and my aura erupted, uncontrolled and wild, rippling invisibly across the walls of the room.
Tears streamed down my face as I sobbed uncontrollably. I pushed against Cassian, desperate to force him toward the door. “You didn’t want to come home? Then just go! Get out!”
He tightened his grip, pulling me closer, his chest pressed against my erratic breaths. “Don’t get hysterical. You’ll only hurt yourself. Just follow my lead—breathe in, breathe out.”
With a masterful touch, he pulled back his aura, leaving behind a soothing calm that flowed through the invisible connection between us, helping to steady my ragged breaths.
My fingers relaxed slightly, though my throat remained constricted with sobs, the pain still fresh and raw.
At that moment, his comm-stone buzzed softly in his palm, a small sound that felt like a needle piercing through the tension.
The fire ignited once more in my chest.
I reached out, desperate to snatch it from him. “Answer it! Aren’t you busy?”
He raised the comm-stone high, keeping it just out of my reach, a teasing gesture that only fueled my anger.
The rage within me had nowhere to escape. In a moment of reckless desperation, I bit down hard on the back of his hand, the metallic taste of iron flooding my mouth.
His eyebrows knitted together in a fierce expression, the vein on the back of his hand bulging with tension. A sharp, guttural growl escaped him, reverberating through the air.
The pressure from his body surged suddenly, like a chilling gust of wind, slamming into my chest and throat. I was pushed away, the force of his aura sending me stumbling back.
I hit the corner of a cabinet hard, a dull pain shooting up my spine. My vision swam, and the world around me blurred as a loud ringing filled my ears.
He stood there, still as a statue, his pupils narrow and slitted. The glint of his fangs peeked out from behind his lips, and a deep growl continued to rumble within his chest.
Then, taking a deep breath, he said, “We’ll talk when you calm down.”
I tried to muster a sneer, but dizziness washed over me, and my vision faded to black.
When consciousness returned, I was enveloped in the scents of damp stone and bitter herbs. Glowing moss illuminated the cave walls, casting an ethereal light around me. The healing runes pulsed softly on the ceiling—I was in the Ironthorn Healing Cavern.
“Luna Trista?” Wynn’s voice broke through the haze as she leaned over the bed, her eyes still red from worry.
“Don’t move,” she cautioned, her tone gentle yet firm. “The pack doctor just administered a nutrient shot. It stabilized your blood sugar and hormones.”
I blinked slowly, my throat feeling as if it had been scraped with sandpaper.
With careful hands, she held a cup of water to my lips. The coolness of the porcelain sent a shiver through my knuckles.


VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABEL
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: The Heartbroken Luna's Choice Banish Love