Chapter 343

Third Person's POV

Trista shoved him back with everything she had. "Cassian, when I was at my lowest, I cried until I blacked out in my dorm room all alone. You think this little pain you're feeling is anything compared to what I went through?"

Cassian looked like he'd been struck by lightning. He lunged forward, hauling her back into his arms, his voice bordering on a panic attack. "I'm sorry... I was wrong! I'm so sorry!"

He couldn't even let his mind go there-thinking about a healer who had just lost her baby and been abandoned by her mate, rotting away in a foreign country through those freezing nights.

Trista struggled to get free, but Cassian only held her tighter, clutching her like she was his last lifeline in a storm.

"Trista, I'll do it. I'll sign the papers."

He finally said it. His voice was small, filled with a desperate, pleading humility. "Can we... can we just start over? Please?"

Trista went completely still in his arms.

Once the words sank in, she pushed him back so she could look him in the eye. "Say that again."

Cassian lowered his head, bringing his eyes level with hers—a gesture of total submission in werewolf culture.

"I respect your decision," he said, each word sounding like it was being carved out of his chest. "I agree to the mating severance."

Trista's energy shifted. She wasn't aggressive anymore; she even pulled back the warm, healing hum of her power. She was just... calm. "Cassian, if you're serious about ending this, we don't need a 'cooling-off' period. We don't have kids, and I don't want a single cent of Ironthorn's resources. Elias has already filed the petition. Today is Friday. Come with me to the Lunar Altar on Monday. You sign, and we're done."

Cassian's heart shattered again. He pulled her into one last, forceful embrace, trying to catch a final trace of her scent.

He had never been more addicted to her than in this moment-the scent that finally quieted his violent wolf.

"I'm giving you half of my personal assets. Humphrey already drafted the contract," Cassian whispered into her shoulder, his voice as rough as sandpaper. "And our joint property? I'm not touching a dime of it. It's all yours."

Trista looked down, masking her expression.

She realized now that Cassian's three-day disappearance hadn't been an escape; he'd been doing the cold, hard math to split his estate.

She knew why, of course-to save Samantha's dying wolf, he'd finally chosen to settle for reality.

She didn't care about the money. If it bought her freedom, he could keep the change.

"Cassian, we share the same friends and the same circles. Let's handle this with some dignity. A clean break is better for Ironthorn and Silverlight."

Cassian wouldn't let go. His arms were locked around her, trying to fuse her into his own skin. His voice was lower than she'd ever heard it. "I'll sign on Monday. I promise. But this weekend give me these fast two days. Just as a final mercy. Please?"

Trista pushed him off, her eyes as cold as moonlight in late autumn. "You're an Alpha, Cassian. Keep your word."

That night, Trista couldn't sleep a wink, while Cassian sat alone in the study until

dawn, listening to the restless whimpering of his wolf in the dark.

Saturday at noon, Trista pulled herself together and went with Cassian to the Ironthorn estate.

When they got out of the car, Cassian reached for her hand, searching for a spark of the old bond in the air.

Looking at his dark gold eyes-full of caution and a heartbreaking tenderness— Trista didn't pull away.

Wilmot was a stubborn old bastard, and she didn't want any drama to ruin the signing on Monday.

Wilmot and Alaina watched them walk in hand-in-hand, their expressions unreadable.

"Glad to see you're finally getting

back on track," Wilmot said from his

high chair, his tone as arrogant as

i to work

even "Now get

an heir

Stop letting these trashy rumors

embarrass this pack."

Cassian and Trista shared a look. Neither of them said a word. They just played the

part, maintaining the fragile illusion of a happy couple for them.

After dinner, Cassian stood up to leave.

Wilmot watched them walk away and let out a scoff. "I knew she couldn't actually leave him. Where else is she going to find an Alpha with blood like his?"

Alaina shot Wilmot a look full of pity and sadness, then turned and disappeared down the hall.

As they drove through the L.A. night, Trista realized the roads were

becoming all too familiar, Panic

started to rise in her chest. "Where

are you taking me?"

fo

Cassian kept one hand on the wheel and the other tightly on her arm, his fingers trembling with suppressed emotion. "We're almost there."

A moment later, the car pulled up in front of the villa where they'd lived right after

they mated.

It was their first home-the inner sanctum of their mating where no outsider had ever stepped foot.

Cassian killed the engine and unbuckled his seatbelt, a flicker of hope in his eyes. "We haven't been here in so long. Want to take a walk around?"

Trista sat motionless in the passenger seat. She stared at the iron gates embossed with the Ironthorn totem as if she were looking at a graveyard.

"That place is stained with Samantha's scent," she said quietly, her voice flat but lethal. "I'm never stepping foot in there again."