Chapter 119
Third Person’s POV
Samantha lowered her head, her heart racing with panic, as if the last veil of her dignity had been ripped away. “What happens between Cassian and me is none of your business p>
Fred didn’t even bother calling her a liar; he just threw the question back at her. “Think about it, Samantha. If Cassian really loved you, why hasn’t he terminated the mating with Trista to give you a formal position p>
He didn’t give her a second to breathe. “Because in Cassian’s eyes, you and Trista aren’t even on the same level. You can’t compete with her p>
Unwilling to back down, Samantha looked like a cornered she–wolf, a venomous glint surfacing in her eyes. “I might be a rogue, but Trista’s pack has fallen too. When Silverlight went under, it was Cassian who bailed them out of massive debt. She’s been his mate for three years, but she’s just a hanger–on living off his wealth. How am I any less than her p>
Fred picked at his ear with his pinky, his tone dismissive and bored. “Even if Silverlight took a hit, Trista grew up in top–tier werewolf academies. She has powerful Alpha blood, her interests are broader than yours, and her horizons are wider. She has access to resources and networks you couldn’t even dream of p>
He paused, delivering a final, brutal blow. “Even after finding out about you, she still maintained a basic level of decency and held back until now. That kind of class is something you’ll never learn in this lifetime p>
Fred looked Samantha up and down, his gaze evaluating her like a cheap knockoff. “Trista’s beauty is legendary in our circles. Now look at you–is there a single thing about you from head to toe that’s actually worth showing off p>
Samantha lowered her head in shame, biting her lip so hard she tasted copper.
Her wolf curled into a ball in her chest, suffocated by the sheer weight of Fred’s aura.
She wanted to argue, but she couldn’t find a single thing to stand on.
Fred seemed finished. His voice leveled out into a flat warning. “Samantha, you know best whose kid that really is. If you’re smart, you’ll take the money and run. Don’t end up working this hard just to walk away with nothing p>
He got into his car and sped off, the roar of the engine fading into the wind rattling through the
street corner.
Samantha swayed, leaning against a tree trunk to keep her balance.
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Chapter 119
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擦槍
What did Fred mean by that last part?
Did he know Algernon wasn’t Cassian’s biological son?
Her fingertips were ice–cold, but her heart was hammering.
Now, not only did the Ironthorn elders despise her, but even Cassian’s friends looked down on her.
She couldn’t keep relying on Cassian for everything.
She had to get a job. She had to be independent.
She had to find her own way to stand by Cassian’s side and force her way into the Ironthorn circle, even if they instinctively rejected her.
She would show Cassian she was a hundred times–ten thousand times–better than Trista.
She would make them all regret their contempt.
Samantha suddenly remembered the drawing.
She immediately took a photo of the “family portrait” and posted it to Instagram.
“A family photo completed by hubby and son. Happiness p>
Hours later, France.
Trista returned to the studio apartment provided by the healing center and called her parents to let them know she arrived safely.
She set her phone by the bed and began unpacking, forcing herself to go through the motions of every small, mundane task.
While replying to Wynn, she accidentally scrolled past Samantha’s Instagram post.
The “family portrait” filled her screen. The words “hubby” and “happiness” in the caption felt like aggressive scent–markings intended to provoke her.
Trista’s grip on her phone tightened. The scent gland on her neck instantly flared with heat, her body temperature rising as if ignited by a fuse.
Her wolf woke up before her reason could catch up.
A low growl nearly tore through her throat. Her pupils darkened instantly, her knuckles swelled, and her claws began to push against the skin.
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Most tellingly, a fine layer of fur began to ripple across the back of her hands like shadows emerging in the night.
She was seconds away from a partial shift.
Trista stared at the photo, her throat tight and her breathing ragged.
She didn’t want to cry; she wanted to shred that image, to hunt that filthy scent out of her territory.
But this was a healing center apartment, not a pack woodland.
She couldn’t lose control.
She closed her eyes and pressed her hand against the back of her neck, her fingers covering the burning gland.
“We’re terminating the mating soon,” she soothed her wolf internally.
She forced her shoulders to relax, pushing the surging wolf instinct back down inch by inch. The throbbing in her fingertips subsided, and the fur on her hands receded back into her skin, leaving only white crescent marks in her palms where her nails had dug in.
Her heart still ached.
It felt as if the site of the mating bond had been ground down by a blunt tool.
But she had suppressed her wolf. She had suppressed the loss of control. That was progress.
She scrolled further and saw a message from Cassian. Her lips curled into a cold, bitter arc.
She didn’t reply.
Trista tossed her phone onto the bed and headed for the bathroom.
As the hot water fell and the steam filled the room, she rubbed the back of her neck, trying to wash away the impulse and the humiliation.
Time was moving, and so was she.
She believed that one day, she would scrub Cassian out of her heart entirely.
110
Sara Lili
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.