Chapter 2

Trista's POV

Cassian never came back to the Ironthorn Pack that night. He didn't come home.

For the next three days, I stayed with my mother at the Healing Center.

My father, Randolph, insisted I needed rest. He said Mom's condition was stable.

Only when it was late did I finally relax a bit. I drove back to the Ironthorn territory, hoping to fall asleep quickly from sheer exhaustion.

I was just drifting off when I heard the bedroom door click open. Then came the sound of running water from the bathroom.

Drowsily, I turned. Cassian was already beside me in bed.

I felt his body heat. It was a simple movement, but it told me he was finally back.

He'd been gone a month for his "trip." I guessed he was happy with his new family.

His hand wrapped around my shoulder. Instinctively, my body stiffened.

Cassian realized I was awake. He pulled me close quickly, turning me to face him.

His warmth radiated next to me. The air filled with his familiar scent—his pheromones.

My body reacted almost automatically. I felt my wolf stirring.

It let out a low growl inside me, yearning for him, wanting his deep strength.

My heartbeat quickened. The blood in my neck began to warm.

My wolf urged me closer, desperate for the warmth of his hands.

My skin started to flush. I could hear my own breathing get ragged. A simple touch from him felt like a match to tinder.

But my mind was clear. I couldn't do this.

I took a sharp breath, trying to regain control.

Cassian's hand tightened around my waist. He yanked me against him. His big, familiar hand didn't hesitate. He pulled down the strap of my nightgown, touching my bare skin.

In that instant, those images flashed through my mind: him and Samantha at Sacred Springs Valley. The flare of the fireworks. His arm tight around her waist. His eyes full of tenderness—a look he'd never given me.

His hand held her child. His wedding ring hand was wrapped around Samantha's own.

I couldn't stop the scenes from playing. Every detail tore at my heart.

My wolf fought inside me, but my reason was stronger now.

I couldn't be a casualty of his betrayal.

"Don't," my voice was low, but shockingly firm.

Cassian paused. Maybe he thought I was shy. Maybe he thought it was a game.

He didn't stop. He grew bolder.

His kiss became more aggressive. His hand explored my body, searching every inch of my skin.

I pushed hard against him, trying to break free of his weight. The longing burned like fire inside me.

My wolf wanted to rush forward, but I knew I couldn't.

The second I pushed him away, my stomach turned over violently.

All the desire and emotion converged into unbearable pressure. I couldn't stop it. I shoved Cassian off and leaned over the side of the bed, dry-heaving violently.

The low lamp flickered on, driving away the tension and intimacy.

Cassian rolled off the bed. He patted my back lightly. His tone was concerned. "Are you sick?"

I forced myself to stand. I rushed to the bathroom and closed my eyes.

I wasn't sick. I was disgusted by him. That revulsion and humiliation, rising from my core, were too much to bear.

Cassian didn't seem to get it. He stood behind me, frowning slightly, watching me leave. He walked downstairs to get me water.

He hadn't noticed my red eyes, my scratchy throat, or the cuts on my ankle.

A few minutes later, he came back with a glass of water. He held it out. "I'll book a restaurant tomorrow. We'll make up the anniversary."

"Make up?" He didn't even sound sorry. He just offered a mechanical arrangement.

I looked at the water. I couldn't believe he was so casually trying to move on.

"You remembered our anniversary?" I asked.

Cassian seemed surprised. He hesitated a moment before answering, "Of course I did."

His eyes held no sincerity. My heart was already ice.

He remembered the date, yet he chose his ex-lover and her son. He threw away three years of vows.

He made her lemon cake. He celebrated with her. I got nothing from this mateship.

I didn't answer him. Only anger and despair remained.

The betrayal and rage swept over me. It was a sharp blade slicing through my chest.

I felt powerless, yet stuck.

The air went rigid again. Cassian didn't push me further. The atmosphere turned instantly cold.

Just then, his comm-stone flashed.

He glanced down. He quickly sent a low, short reply. Then he turned the screen off.

He looked up at me, clearly distracted. "Go to sleep."

I wanted to respond, but I stayed silent. I closed my eyes, trying to calm myself.

Yet, Cassian and Samantha's images kept flooding my mind.

Suddenly, Cassian's comm-stone lit up again.

He checked it, then stood up and left the house.

I slowly opened my eyes. I heard his car engine fading away.

A text message. One simple text was enough to make him leave in the middle of the night.

It was Samantha. She had taken over his world again.

I wanted to scream, to unleash all the pain. But my body felt drained of all strength. I couldn't even make a sound. All I could do was breathe.

The next day, I forced myself to get ready. I took breakfast to my parents.

My mother, Ulva, looked at me, worried. "Trista, what's wrong?"

I quietly reassured her, "Don't worry, Mom. I just didn't sleep well."

Randolph stood beside me. He handed me a bottle of water. "Your mother is recovering well. The doctor says she can leave the Healing Center in a few days."

Seeing my mother doing better, I went to the main treatment hall.

Passing the billing office, I saw Cassian.

He should have been at the packhouse, leading the morning meeting. My gut told me why he was here.

I wanted to confront him. But I knew I couldn't.