Chapter 30 The Alpha Who Refuses To See
Grayson:
The council chamber emptied slowly, their voices blurring into a low drone I didn’t bother to process. The meeting had been pointless, another round of political throat-clearing over the Vance security expansions.
But the silence that followed felt heavier.
Because all I could see was her.
The way Evangeline stood there, back straight, eyes steady, even as the entire chamber turned against her.
Even as Isabelle tore into her.
Even as I… said nothing.
My wolf pressed against my ribs, restless, growling with a frustration that wasn’t entirely mine.
Mate. Our mate. You hurt her. You let them hurt her.
I ground my jaw.
“She shouldn’t have been here,” I muttered under my breath.
My wolf bared its teeth.
But I ignored him like I’d been doing for months now.
“She broke protocol,” I said louder, as if saying it aloud made it true. “The Luna has roles, not rights.”
The wolf’s voice grew sharper.
Liar.
I exhaled sharply and pushed away from the council table.
Marcus approached me.
My father’s gaze swept over my face with the same look he’d given me as a child when I lied about stealing pastries from the kitchen.
“You should have stopped Isabelle,” he said quietly.
My jaw tightened. “I handled it.”
“If by handled, you mean you let your ex's mother rip your Luna apart in front of the council, then yes.”
“She had no right being in the chamber,” I snapped.
Marcus raised a brow. “Did she deserve humiliation?”
My throat clenched.
He waited.
I didn’t answer.
Finally he sighed, a tired, disappointed sound that scraped at something old inside my chest.
“You’re angry, Grayson. I understand that. But don’t weaponize the whole pack against one girl.”
“She killed Chloe.”
His expression hardened. “You think she killed Chloe.”
“She was the only one near the glasses...”
“My son,” he interrupted softly, “you saw nothing. But Isabelle saw an opportunity. She always does.”
I hated the way his tone softened at Evie’s name.
Hated how he still believed Evangeline deserved patience.
Marcus laid a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t tear your Luna apart for a ghost.”
I pulled away.
“Don’t tell me how to handle my mate.”
His eyes darkened. “Then handle her with honor.”
I didn’t respond.
Because I wasn’t sure I still knew how. He left shaking his head in disappointment.
The corridor was too quiet when I exited the council chambers. The quiet that meant a storm had passed, and everyone was waiting to see what remained standing.
A few pack members bowed as I passed.
Their whispers weren’t soft enough.
“…she looked shaken…”
“…the Luna’s falling apart…”
“…she shouldn’t have come…”
“…poor thing…”
“…poor Alpha…”
Poor Alpha.
Not poor Evangeline.
Not poor Luna.
I clenched my fists so hard my claws pricked skin.
Why did that bother me?
I turned the corner, and froze.
Helena stood outside Evangeline’s chamber door.
Her face looked older than it had the day before.
“Mother.”
She looked at me, really looked, and something in her gaze pierced the armor I’d wrapped around myself since Chloe died.
“Did you see her?” she asked quietly.
My throat tightened. “I saw her leave.”
“Not leave,” Helena said. “Break.”
My wolf whimpered low.
Helena stepped closer to me, eyes hard. “Evangeline has been punished enough for sins that were never hers.”
My jaw locked. “I’m doing what must be done.”
“What must be done,” she echoed with a bitter laugh, “or what hurts her the most?”
I stiffened.
She stepped closer still, her voice dropping to a whisper.
“You’re not punishing her, Grayson. You’re punishing yourself.”
I flinched.
I didn’t mean to.
But I did.
Helena touched my cheek gently, the way she used to before Alpha training stripped gentleness out of me.
“You look at her,” she whispered, “and you see Chloe’s death.”
I swallowed hard.
“But one day, you’ll look at her… and see your own.”
Her words slammed into me like a blade.
I stepped back, breath uneven, wolf clawing at my insides.
“Mother, enough.”
“No,” she said. “Not when my son is destroying the only soul who ever loved him without agenda.”
I shut my eyes. “I don’t want her love.”
“A shame,” Helena murmured, turning away, “because you have it anyway.”
At Evangeline’s Door
Her scent lingered faintly, lavender and moonlit snow, and something salty.... her tears.
It hit me harder than it should have.
My wolf pushed forward, desperate.
Check on her. Go in. Mate is hurting. Fix it.
“No.”
I said it aloud to leash myself.
Because if I opened that door, if I saw her tears, if I heard her voice...
I didn’t know what I would do.
Or what part of me would break next?
Instead, I turned on my heel and walked away.
Every step felt wrong.
The Training Grounds
I needed a distraction. Noise. Something to burn.
I stripped off my coat and stepped into the circle.
The Warriors watched from the sidelines.
“Alpha heir,” someone called. “Ready for a bout?”
I didn’t answer. I lunged.
Blow after blow, strike after strike, I tore through every warrior who challenged me.
But nothing shut out the flash of silver in Evie’s eyes.
Nothing muted the memory of her voice shaking.
Nothing drowned out her wolf’s wounded silence across the bond.
My knuckles bled.
My breath turned ragged.
My wolf howled inside my chest, furious.
Go to her. Fix what you broke.
Mate. Our mate. She is hurting.
“She is not...”
My voice cracked.
“She is not my...”
But the word wouldn’t come.
Because it didn’t feel true anymore.
My chambers were dark when I returned. And still, I sensed her.
Not physically.
But through that damned bond.
A soft ache. A quiet crying.
Like distant rain against my ribs.
I pressed a hand to my chest, breath sharp.
“Stop feeling her,” I hissed to myself.
But the bond pulsed once, as if it heard me, and disapproved.
My wolf circled restlessly.
Mate is hurting. Mate is crying. Go.
Instead, I sat on the edge of my bed, elbows on my knees, fingers digging into my skull.
“I can’t,” I whispered.
And for the first time in months... My wolf whispered back something cold. Something I didn’t want to hear.
Coward.
I flinched. Because it was true.
The cruelty wasn’t strength. The silence wasn’t justice. The distance wasn’t leadership.
I was avoiding the truth.
Avoiding Evie. Avoiding the guilt. Avoiding the storm I created with my own hands.
Avoiding the realization, tightening like a noose around my throat:
What if she didn’t kill Chloe? What if I’ve been destroying the wrong person?
I closed my eyes. And in the darkness, her tears soaked through me like a wound.