My Alpha Chose His Ex Over Me

Chapter 6 Crumbling Foundation

Grayson

I couldn't sleep last night. Eva's face when she drove away kept replaying in my mind—that look of betrayal when I mentioned Elias's evaluation, the way her voice shook when she talked about someone interfering with her abilities.

Paranoid thinking, I'd called it. But this morning, when I confirmed her car wasn't in the driveway, I realized she'd actually left for Boston right after the meeting. Probably needed space to process everything.

Lena's invitation to see her private collection couldn't have come at a better time. "I'd love to show you what modern preservation really looks like," she'd said over breakfast. "Maybe it'll give you some perspective on the traditional methods."

Now I'm standing in her collection room, staring at a manuscript that looks brand new despite being centuries old.

"This took my team two weeks to restore," Lena explains casually. "Complete digital mapping, laser cleaning, the works. Eva's traditional methods would have needed months for the same result."

I can't argue with what I'm seeing. The difference is obvious.

Before I can respond, my phone buzzes. Emergency at the pack house.

F**k.

I'm halfway there when I feel it starting—that familiar tightness in my chest, my wolf clawing to get out. The emergency turns out to be nothing serious, just a territorial dispute, but my transformation is fighting me again.

By the time I reach the pack house, my hands are shaking. Elder Morrison takes one look and steps closer.

"Alpha, you need assistance."

I instinctively reach for my phone to call Eva, then remember she's probably halfway to Boston by now. Even if I could reach her, she'd never make it back in time.

"I'm fine." But I'm not fine, and Morrison can see it.

"Grayson." Lena appears beside me like she materialized from nowhere. "Let me help."

Her hand touches my arm, and immediately the chaotic energy settles. The transformation flows through me like it's supposed to—smooth, controlled, effortless.

When I shift back, I'm not even winded.

Elder Morrison watches this with obvious interest. "Miss Thorne, that was remarkable."

Heat crawls up my neck. Eva's struggles with my transformations have been whispered about for months. Now Morrison's witnessed firsthand how much better things could be.

"Just helping while Eva's away," Lena says quickly.

But the damage is done. Morrison's seen the difference. Hell, I felt the difference.

Later, Morrison follows me back to my office, closing the door behind him.

"We need to talk, Alpha."

I pour myself a drink. "About what?"

"About the fact that your Luna can't perform her most basic function anymore." Morrison doesn't mince words. "The pack is starting to notice. They're starting to question."

"Eva's bloodline will stabilize—"

"Will it?" Morrison sits down without being invited. "Grayson, I've been an elder for thirty years. I've seen Alphas fall because they couldn't make hard decisions about their mates."

"Eva isn't the problem."

"Isn't she?" Morrison leans forward. "When's the last time she successfully assisted your transformation in public? When's the last time the pack felt confidence in their Alpha because his Luna supported him properly?"

I don't answer because we both know the truth.

"Miss Thorne demonstrated perfect bloodline compatibility today," Morrison continues. "The pack saw it. They felt the stability she provided. And she's offered to help with our cultural preservation crisis, our border security issues..."

"She's been gone for ten years."

"And in that time, she built something impressive. Something that could benefit this pack." Morrison stands. "I'm not saying make any hasty decisions. But an Alpha's first duty is to his pack, not to his personal attachments."

After he leaves, I sit alone in the growing darkness. Eva's probably at her Boston workshop by now, working late again, trying to salvage her failing business.

A soft knock interrupts my brooding. "Come in."

Lena enters carrying two cups of coffee. "Thought you might need this."

"Thanks." I accept the cup, grateful for something to do with my hands.

She settles into the chair Morrison vacated, curling her legs under her like she used to when we were teenagers. "Rough day?"

"You could say that."

"Morrison talked to you." It's not a question.

I nod, not trusting my voice.

"Gray." She leans forward, her voice gentle. "I didn't come back to cause problems for you and Eva."

"Didn't you?"

Her smile is sad. "I came back because I was dying inside without my pack. Without you. But I never wanted to hurt anyone."

"Your being here is hurting Eva."

"Is it? Or is it just making existing problems impossible to ignore?"

Before I can answer, she moves to the couch, patting the cushion beside her. "Remember when we used to sit like this? When everything felt possible?"

Against my better judgment, I join her. She immediately shifts closer, her warmth seeping through my shirt.

"We were good together, weren't we?" she whispers.

"Lena—"

"I'm not asking you to leave Eva. I'm just saying... maybe there's a way for everyone to get what they need."

Her hand finds mine, fingers intertwining. It feels natural, familiar. Like coming home after a long, difficult journey.

"The pack needs stability," she continues softly. "Eva needs to focus on her work without the pressure of Luna duties. And you..." Her free hand touches my cheek. "You need someone who can actually help you be the Alpha this pack deserves."

I should pull away. Should remember my vows, my loyalty, my obligations.

But my body betrays me, freezing in place as her warmth seeps through my shirt. I don't lean into her touch, but I don't pull away either.

"Gray," she whispers, and there's something achingly familiar about the way she says my name.

My jaw clenches. "Lena, we can't—"

"I know." Her thumb traces my cheekbone. "I'm not asking you to choose. I'm just... I missed you. I missed this."

I sit rigid, torn between pulling away and surrendering to the comfort of her presence. "This is wrong."

"Is it?" She shifts closer, and I can feel her breath against my skin. "Or is it just honest?"

She's moving closer, her lips almost brushing mine, when the office door opens.

Eva stands frozen in the doorway, her face white as paper. In her hand is a small leather portfolio—empty, ready to collect the documents she came back for.

She takes in the scene—Lena's hand on my cheek, our intertwined fingers, the intimate way we're sitting together on the couch.

For a heartbeat, nobody moves.