Chapter 344
Third Person’s POV
Cassian’s hand froze on the door handle.
He looked back at Trista, the last flicker of light in his eyes dying out as his world crumbled.
“Trista,” he said, his voice thick. “Whether you believe me or not, I never intended for another she-wolf to set foot in our home p>
Trista didn’t bother arguing. Technically, she was the one who had brought Samantha into that house.
But by then, Cassian’s scent was already tainted.
Even if he hadn’t physically crossed the line yet, his soul was dirty, and in her eyes, he had lost every ounce of credibility.
The silence in the car was suffocating.
Cassian rolled down the window, letting the evening breeze carry the scent of gardenias from the yard into the car.
Noticing how pale she looked, he tried to soften the mood. “The gardenias you planted it looks like they bloomed early this year p>
Trista closed her eyes. The heavy floral scent immediately triggered a flood of memories.
Early in their mating, she had put her heart and soul into making this villa a sanctuary.
She’d hand-picked every single mug, every piece of furniture, and decided on every color palette. She’d planted flowers by the gate and trees in the backyard.
She had told Cassian back then, with so much hope, that this was the nest where they’d spend their entire lives. She had cherished it more than anyone.
But in just three short years, everything had changed.
“I’m tired. Let’s go back,” Trista said, cutting off the memories before they could take root.
Cassian stared at her for a long time before silently starting the car, leaving the scent of the garden behind them.
That afternoon, Cassian locked himself in his study, as if exiling himself.
Trista went to her room and took a nap. They were under the same roof, but their souls were no longer in sync.
At dinner time, Cassian pushed open the bedroom door. He saw Trista packing her bags-sorting through the remnants of their life together.
Seeing the items laid out the pack clearance papers, the soul-bound mating scrolls, and the thick stack of divorce petitions meant to sever their link-triggered a physical reaction in his wolf.
Cassian clutched his chest, gasping. It was the backlash of the mating bond, a violent reaction to the impending severance. He stumbled back, every step feeling like he was walking on broken glass.
Trista finished packing every item that tied her to this pack.
When she walked out of the room, the study door was still shut, though she could feel Cassian’s decaying pine scent leaking through the cracks.
She fixed herself a quick bite to eat and went to bed.
On the surface, her wolf was as cold as ice, but the bond nodes deep inside her were humming with tension.
She just wanted to skip the next forty-eight hours and wake up on Monday morning.
Late night in the study, Cassian
stood by the floor-to-ceiling window,
the glow of his cigarette dimming
and brightening in the dark swnövels
Several empty whiskey bottles were scattered across the table.
The ticking of the wall clock sounded like a countdown to his execution, leaving him frantic and unable to sit still.
Sunday morning, Trista got up early to make breakfast.
Cassian followed her into the kitchen, moving silently to her side. “Let me help p>
He reached for the pan to fry an egg, but Trista immediately turned off the stove.
Cassian grabbed her wrist, his gold
eyes filled with a desperate, humbet
plea
just want to cook meal with you is even that too much to ask p>
Trista took the egg out of his hand, her face blank and her voice exhausted. “To be honest, Cassian can’t swallow anything you’ve touched. The thought of you cooking makes me sick because all loan think about is you making Samantha her favorite blueberry cake p>
Cassian went deathly pale.
He stared at her, his voice hoarse. “Trista… I know I messed up. What do I have to
do for you to stop punishing me p>
“If you were me,” Trista countered, “could you move past a wound like this p>
They stood in a silent standoff in the small kitchen until Cassian finally lowered his head and backed away.
In the study, Cassian lay on the sofa, feeling as if all his power had turned to nothing.
By evening, Trista thought the weekend would just end in more cold silence.
But Cassian emerged wearing a clean suit and told her he’d booked a table at a restaurant.
Since it was their final “civilized” moment, she changed her clothes and went with him.
8:00 PM, at a high-end L.A. steakhouse, Cassian ordered her favorite meal and matcha truffle chocolates.
When the food arrived, he swapped his perfectly cut steak for hers.
Noticing she hadn’t touched her fork, he spoke up. “You’ve always loved this place.
They have a new executive chef. Give it a try p>
Trista took one polite bite and immediately set her utensils down.
Cassian looked up at her. “What’s wrong p>