My Ex Alpha Mate Wants Me Back

Chapter5

Elyra's pov,

I could feel Marcus’s presence next to me, his hand on my waist grounding me. The familiarity of his touch was a comfort in the storm of emotions that were suddenly swirling inside me.

Beckett’s gaze flicked from me to Marcus, and I saw a brief flicker of surprise, quickly masked by the usual indifference he wore like armor. His posture stiffened, but he didn’t back away. Clara, who had been glancing over her shoulder, now stood frozen, her eyes narrowing as she processed the new dynamic.

For a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath.

Marcus’s grip tightened slightly on my waist, the possessive gesture subtle but clear. He was a shield, a wall between me and the past I thought I had left behind. His presence was the reminder that I had moved on, that I had a life now — a life that didn’t include Beckett, or Clara, or the ghosts that haunted me.

I could feel Beckett’s eyes boring into me, searching for something — an answer, a weakness. But I wasn’t going to give it to him.

"You’re married?" Beckett asked, his voice steady but laced with something I couldn’t quite place. I didn’t want to guess what it was. He didn’t deserve to know anything about my life anymore.

"Yes," I answered shortly, my eyes hard as I turned toward Marcus, letting the silence hang between us.

Marcus shifted slightly, making sure I was fully protected in his space. The air between him and Beckett was thick, and I could tell Marcus wasn’t a fan of Beckett’s tone or the history between us.

“Elyra,” Beckett said again, his voice low, almost hesitant now. “You’re still running from everything.”

I froze. The words hit harder than I expected. But I wouldn’t let him see it.

“I’m not running from anything,” I said, my voice cold. “I’ve built my life from the ground up. Unlike you, I didn’t need anyone’s approval or support to do it.”

Clara’s laughter from behind us was sharp and cruel, like nails on a chalkboard. “Is that what you tell yourself, Elyra?” she taunted, stepping forward. “You’re so far gone from the pack, from everything that made you. You really think you’ve succeeded? You’re nothing but a sad little shell hiding behind wealth and fame.”

Her words stung, but not enough to make me react. Instead, I glanced at Marcus, his steady gaze offering me the strength I needed to stay calm. The silence that followed felt like a trap, an unwelcome pause where the past threatened to rise up again.

Marcus’s hand gently brushed my waist as he leaned closer, his voice quiet but firm. "I think we're done here," he said, his words laced with finality.

Beckett didn’t respond immediately. I saw a flicker of something in his eyes, something that seemed like regret — but maybe it was just me wanting to see that. I had spent so long looking for it, looking for any sign that he was still the man I thought I knew. But he wasn’t.

“I don’t need your pity, Beckett,” I said, my voice low and steady. "You made your choice. You made it clear years ago."

Beckett’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t say anything else. After a long beat, he finally turned and started to walk away, Clara following him with a cold, disinterested look.

I didn’t watch them leave. Instead, I focused on Marcus, who was still standing beside me. His presence was comforting in a way I hadn’t known I needed.

“Are you okay?” Marcus asked, his voice softer now, no longer laced with the tension of the moment.

I nodded, taking a slow breath. The memories that Beckett had brought back were like a ghostly presence, but with Marcus beside me, they seemed less threatening. “Yeah,” I said, my voice a little shaky. “I’m okay.”

“I’ll be here,” Marcus replied simply, his hand still resting on my waist.

The music swelled as the night pressed on, the chatter of the other guests blending into a dull hum in the background. I stood with Marcus, his presence grounding me as the weight of what had just happened slowly began to fade. But the lingering unease, the knot in my stomach, refused to loosen.

Beckett was still out there, still a part of the world I had tried so hard to escape. And as much as I wanted to ignore it, part of me couldn’t help but wonder why he’d sought me out tonight. Why now, after all these years?

“Let’s get some air,” Marcus suggested, breaking my train of thought. He was already guiding me toward one of the grand windows that opened to a balcony overlooking the gardens. His hand stayed firmly on my back, offering silent reassurance as we moved through the crowd. I didn’t resist. I knew he was right. I needed a moment to clear my head.

As we stepped outside, the cool night air hit my face, and I breathed it in deeply, savoring the feeling of space. The city lights stretched out before us, sparkling in the distance. The serenity of the garden below, with its rows of neatly trimmed hedges and fountains, contrasted sharply with the chaos of emotions inside.

“You don’t have to go back in,” Marcus said quietly, as if sensing my hesitation. “We can leave if you want.”

I turned toward him, offering a faint smile. “I appreciate it, Marcus. But I can’t hide forever.”

He studied me for a moment, his eyes softening as he stepped closer, almost like he was trying to read the emotions I was hiding. “I know you don’t want to go back to that life, Elyra. But you’ve built something real now. This—” he motioned between the two of us, his tone warm, “—this is real. And you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

I swallowed, feeling the lump in my throat grow, and I pushed it back down. I didn’t want to let this night turn into an emotional mess. Not now, not when I had finally moved forward. But with Marcus beside me, his understanding so genuine, it was harder to keep the walls up.

“I don’t know if I’m strong enough to face him again,” I admitted quietly, my voice just above a whisper. “I don’t know if I’m ready to see Beckett and Clara in my world. Not like this.”

Marcus reached out, cupping my face gently, forcing me to look at him. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for,” he said, his voice firm, but soothing. “If they want to be part of your life again, that’s their choice. But it doesn’t mean you owe them anything.”

I nodded, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. His words meant more to me than I could express. The last thing I needed was to lose myself again in the past, to let them take back the little bit of control I had fought so hard to claim.

“Thank you,” I murmured, my voice thick. “I needed to hear that.”

He leaned down and kissed the top of my head, a simple gesture, but one that made me feel safe. His presence was the anchor I had always needed. And for the first time in years, I realized I wasn’t alone.

Just then, I heard the soft sound of footsteps behind us. I tensed instinctively, knowing who it was before I even turned around.

It was Beckett.

“I didn’t expect to find you two out here,” his voice was calm, almost too calm. He had followed us outside, and now, standing on the threshold between the balcony and the ballroom, he seemed almost like a shadow, his form silhouetted against the soft glow of the interior lights.

I didn’t say anything. I just stared at him, my heart beating loudly in my chest. There was an old ache that resurfaced, a pain I had long buried, but this time, I refused to let it control me.

Marcus stepped in front of me, protective as always. He stood tall, his body rigid with a quiet intensity that told Beckett all he needed to know: I wasn’t alone anymore.

Beckett’s gaze shifted between us, and for the first time, I saw a crack in his indifference. He swallowed, as if fighting something inside him.

“I didn’t mean to cause any trouble,” Beckett said, his voice quieter than before, though still carrying that same weight, the same command. “I... I just wanted to speak to Elyra. To apologize, maybe.”

Marcus raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “Apologize?” he repeated, his tone low. “After everything?”

Beckett’s eyes flitted to me, and for a brief moment, I thought I saw the man I once knew. The one who had loved me. The one who had promised me forever.

“I don’t know what I expect,” Beckett admitted. “I don’t even know if I deserve to speak to you. But I’ve spent so long with this regret, this... emptiness inside me. I just wanted to know if you were okay.”

I laughed, though it felt hollow. “You left me, Beckett. You made sure of that. And now, after all these years, you want to know if I’m okay?”

His face fell slightly, a brief flash of vulnerability crossing his features. “I didn’t want to lose you,” he said, his voice raw. “But I made a mistake. I can’t take it back, but I wish I could. You’ve built something amazing, Elyra. I can see that. I just—”

“Stop,” I interrupted, my voice firm, and for the first time, I felt like I had control of the situation. “You don’t get to explain yourself anymore. You don’t get to rewrite the past.”

Beckett’s lips parted, but nothing came out. His face was a mixture of confusion and something deeper — regret, guilt, or perhaps something else. But it didn’t matter. I didn’t need his apologies. I didn’t need him to fix anything.

I had built my life from the ashes of my past. And no one, not even Beckett, could take that away from me.

“We’re done here,” I said finally,