Chapter 369

Third Person's POV

"Nobody held a gun to your head to make you help them."

Trista looked him dead in the eye. "Every choice you made, Cassian, you made with your own hands."

"You chose to lie to me to protect her. You chose to hurt me to defend her. You even chose to use your power as Alpha to threaten me into submission. Samantha didn't force you to do any of that. Those were your true colors showing."

Cassian looked shattered.

When he finally spoke, his voice was a raw, broken rasp. "I admit it. I messed up. I made a mistake."

"But Trista," he pleaded, searching her face for any spark of hope, "I never marked her. I never even touched her. In my heart, I never once thought about letting anyone take your place as Luna."

He stepped closer again, his eyes shimmering with a pathetic sort of hope. "We grew up together. We have twenty years of history-twenty years of being mates. Give me one more chance. Please."

Trista didn't move. Her breathing didn't even falter.

She stared into the eyes she used to drown in and spoke with lethal precision. "A betrayal of the soul is the end of the bond. It's because we had twenty years of history—a connection no one else could touch-that your cruelty is unforgivable. Using that connection to inflict cold, calculated pain on me for the sake of another she-wolf? That's something I will never get over. There is no coming back from this."

It felt like a claw had ripped through Cassian's chest.

He stumbled back, his throat working hard, but he couldn't force out a single word. Trista scanned the living room-the place where she'd spent her childhood-and her tone turned almost cruelly calm. "If I hadn't fought for the divorce... if I had just stayed quiet and let you keep that woman and her brat under your protection like a good, numb little mate... would you have ever come back to me?"

Before he could answer, she kept going. "If you hadn't found out about Samantha's dirty secrets, would you have ever had the heart to throw her out of L.A.?"

"Cassian, you're not bowing your head now because you've realized you're wrong. You're doing it because I'm no longer under your thumb. You lost your balance between me and that rogue, and now that the dust has settled, you've re-evaluated the profit margins. You're trying to pick up the bond you threw away just to save your reputation and your interests as the Ironthorn Alpha."

"I have feelings for you!" Cassian blurted out, his aura turning violent and erratic as he lost control of his emotions.

Trista actually let out a small, mocking laugh.

She looked at him with total sincerity. "Cassian, I might believe you if you told me anything else. But telling me you still love me? That's just an insult."

She watched him sway on his feet and decided to twist the knife. "I was one year old when I first chose you, right where I'm standing now. Back then, the whole pack thought we were destiny."

She paused, her gaze as sharp as a blade. "Twenty-six years later, I'm standing here telling you the same thing: Cassian, we are done. The link is dead."

She turned and walked away without a second glance.

That cold, effortless departure sent a jolt of agony through Cassian's every nerve.

He lost his Alpha composure completely, lunging forward to wrap his arms around her in a desperate, crushing hug.

"Trista..." His voice was a trembling,

humble whisper, thick with a plea for mercyTell me you're just angry Tell me you're just blocking my

scent for now. You still have a place for me in your heart, right?

Trista stopped struggling. She let him hold her, but her voice was as light and untouchable as a cold wind.

"Cassian, did you forget?" she asked, her voice dripping with irony.

"You're the one who told me that my love—and my hate-didn't matter at all to an Alpha of your rank."

Trista walked out of the Silverlight territory and never looked back.

Her final words were like a barbed vine, tightening around Cassian's heart until he could barely breathe.

Cassian looked around the empty living room. His mind was flooded with fragments of the time he'd spent here with the Silverlight members.

That sense of belonging—quiet, warm, and real—was something he had never experienced in the cold, ruthless world of Ironthorn.

The moonlight spilled across the floor. Cassian's eyes were wet, the light reflecting in his pupils.

He knew, with terrifying clarity, that this was all on him.

They had been together for twenty years. She was supposed to be his only mate, his Luna for life.

Cassian clenched his fists.

No matter the cost, he would make her accept him again. They had to go back to the way they were.

The next morning, Trista was having breakfast with her family.

There was a knock at the door, and Isaiah strolled in. He was wearing an oversized

hoodie and flip-flops, looking like he'd just crawled out of bed.

Trista put down her fork and looked him up and down. "Isaiah, what's with the look? Is this some kind of performance art?"

Isaiah jerked his chin toward the

house next door, his tone casual as if he were talking about a new toy. "Trista just added the house next door to my territory. We're officially neighbors now. Surprise!"

Trista was speechless.

No wonder she'd smelled him lurking around the neighborhood the night of Samantha's party. This guy had been eyeing the property right next to her this whole time.