After My Alpha Chose Her Over Our Pup

The treaty documents felt heavy in my hands as I approached Greyson's office. The Northern Territory had finally agreed to our border terms after months of negotiation. I'd hurried to deliver the news personally, knowing how much this meant to our pack's expansion plans.

I paused outside his door, catching a scent that made my wolf bristle. Vanilla. Too sweet, too strong—it didn't belong here.

"Alpha Hamilton will be pleased," I murmured to myself, straightening my shoulders before knocking once and entering.

The sight before me froze my blood.

Greyson had Gracelyn pressed against his desk, her legs wrapped around his waist, his hands tangled in her hair. The vanilla scent was suffocating now, deliberately masking Greyson's natural cedarwood aroma that had once made my wolf sing.

"—just need to check if anyone's following me," Gracelyn was whispering, her voice a practiced tremble. "The rogues might have tracked us here."

They broke apart at my entrance, but not quickly enough. Not guiltily enough.

"Luna Riley," Greyson said, his voice flat. No shame. No apology. Just mild annoyance at the interruption.

Gracelyn's performance was immediate—she shrank behind him, fingers clutching at his shirt. "I'm sorry," she whispered, eyes wide with feigned fear. "I didn't mean to—"

"It's fine," Greyson cut in, his hand settling protectively on her shoulder. "You're safe here."

I stood there, treaty documents forgotten in my hand, watching my mate comfort another woman in our territory. Our home. Our life.

"I need to discuss the Northern Territory agreement," I managed, my voice steadier than I felt.

"Later," Greyson dismissed, not even looking at me. "Gracelyn needs rest. She's been through enough."

My wolf snarled inside me, but I swallowed the rage. "Of course. I'll wait."

---

The morning pack run briefing was a tradition I'd always cherished—a time when the pack came together under the rising sun, unified in purpose. Today, it felt like a battlefield.

"The eastern border needs reinforcement," I announced to the gathered warriors. "The Northern Territory agreement means we can finally station our best fighters there."

I scanned the faces of our Delta warriors, mentally assigning the strongest to the critical positions. "Thomas, you'll take the ridge position. Marcus, the river bend—"

"Actually," Greyson's voice cut through mine like a blade. He stood at the edge of the clearing, Gracelyn hovering beside him in the guest wing doorway. "I've reassigned Thomas and Marcus to guard duty."

"Guard duty?" I echoed, confusion rippling through the assembled wolves.

"The guest wing needs protection," he continued, his gaze flicking meaningfully to Gracelyn. "We have vulnerable residents who need our best warriors."

The implication was clear—Gracelyn's safety outweighed our territory's security.

"Alpha," I protested, stepping forward. "Those warriors are needed at the borders. We've been planning this deployment for weeks."

"The plans have changed," Greyson replied coolly.

"Where is this coming from?" I demanded, feeling my Luna authority rise. "Our borders are vulnerable!"

Greyson's eyes flashed amber as he unleashed a low, vibrating Alpha tone that made the