Marked Twice by the Alpha King

Ava's POV

When I slid into the backseat, the driver up front turned around. A young guy with sharp features, friendly but alert-clearly a trained warrior.

"Ava, this is my assistant, friend, and future Beta, Dominic," Steven introduced as he settled in beside me, sitting closer than necessary.

"Call me Dom," he smiled, eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror. “Nice to finally meet you. This guy hasn't shut up about you since he saw you training

this afternoon."

Steven shot him a warning look but didn't verbally object. "Dom exaggerates. I merely mentioned your impressive fighting style,"

"Right, Dom smirked, pulling away from the house. "Five or six times."

I shifted toward the door, uncomfortably aware of how the dress hugged my body. Combat gear was my second skin; this felt like wearing someone else's.

"So, Moon Lake," I cut in, bringing us back to business and ignoring Steven's appreciative glances. "You mentioned information about Shadow Creek politics."

Steven's expression sobered, though his eyes still held that gleam of interest. "Not just politics-power plays that go back generations. Might explain why your father took the fall for something he didn't do."

My pulse quickened. "You actually think he's innocent?"

"Let's just say the timing of Alpha Carter's death was suspiciously convenient for certain parties," Steven replied, his voice dropping as he leaned closer. "But first, let's enjoy dinner. Talking pack secrets on an empty stomach never ends well."

I studied him as moonlight filtered through the trees. Unlike other wolves from powerful bloodlines, Steven didn't seem to take himself too seriously. There was something different about him, though I couldn't quite place it.

"How do you know about my father anyway?" I asked, maintaining my distance.

"My job is collecting stories," he explained, turning fully toward me, his knee brushing mine. "Not just the glory tales everyone knows, but the messy, uncomfortable ones too. Truth is rarely neat and tidy."noveldrama

I shifted my leg away subtly, which didn't escape his notice, though he merely smiled.

The carriage arrived at Moon Lake, where a floating structure sat connected to shore by a silver bridge. Dom pulled up to the entrance, and before I could reach for my door, Steven was already outside, extending his hand to help me out.

"Miss Rivers," he said with exaggerated formality that didn't quite hide his obvious interest.

I took his hand reluctantly, feeling calluses that matched my own. A fighter's hands, not just some privileged heir's. He held on a moment longer than necessary before I pulled away.

The host recognized Steven immediately. "Master Morgan, your table is ready."

We were led to a private alcove overlooking the lake. The table was clearly meant for romance, not business.

"Too much?" Steven asked, noticing my hesitation as he pulled out my chair, standing closer than needed.

"Just not my usual scene," I admitted as I sat, ensuring there was space between us. “I'm more quick meals between training sessions."

"Honest," he smiled, taking his seat but leaning forward immediately. "I like that about you."

Once we ordered, I leaned forward with purpose. "Enough small talk. You promised information."

Steven nodded, his expression turning serious though his eyes still watched me with undisguised interest. 'What do you know about Shadow Creek's previous leadership transitions?"

"Not much,' I admitted. "Carter was Alpha when I was growing up. Everyone loved him."

"That's the public story," Steven said, voice lowering as he leaned closer. "But Carter had enemies-powerful ones who felt he was too progressive. He wanted to modernize Shadow Creek, strengthen ties with other packs through means other than arranged marriages."

My mind immediately went to Jackson. "Like Jackson Hayes?"

Steven's eyes narrowed slightly. "Hayes is a perfect example. His father Richard has always been Shadow Creek's most traditional elder."

"So you're saying Jackson's father had something to do with Carter's death?" I whispered, blood running cold.

Steven pulled out a small leather journal from his jacket. "I've been tracking pack conflicts for years. This contains records of unusual meetings and power shifts. He slid it across the table, his fingers brushing mine deliberately. "Look at the dates."

I pulled my hand back quickly and flipped through the pages, finding a timeline of events. One entry jumped out: Three days before Carter's murder: Richard Hayes meets privately with William Rivers. Witness report: heated argument heard.

"My father argued with Hayes?" I looked up, confused. "He never mentioned this."

"Because afterwards, Richard threatened him," Steven explained, taking back the journal as our appetizers arrived, his fingers once again finding an excuse to touch mine. "I think your father discovered something that would've damaged Hayes's standing."

We paused as the server poured wine. When we were alone again, I pressed on, ignoring his attempts at physical contact.

"So my father knew something dangerous, but why would he be at the murder scene?"

"That's what I'm still piecing together, Steven admitted, watching me over his wine glass. "But the timing is suspicious. If your father goes down for this, Hayes's path to controlling Shadow Creek through his son becomes clearer."

The warmth of Steven's hand deliberately brushed mine as he reached for his wine, testing my boundaries. I pulled back, keeping my hands firmly in my lap. "Why help me?" I had to ask. "What's in it for you?"

Steven's expression softened, his eyes becoming more intense. "Because truth matters. Because pack politics has destroyed too many innocent lives. And..." he paused, eyes meeting mine directly, "because I've never met anyone quite like you, Ava Rivers."

I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable with his directness. "Don't make this something

it's not. I'm here for information about my father, nothing more."

He leaned back, accepting the boundary but looking far from deterred. "For now, perhaps."

As our main course arrived, conversation shifted to safer topics. Steven told stories of northern packs, their strange customs and beliefs. Despite my reservations, I found myself interested in his tales of tracking down obscure wolf legends in remote mountains, though I remained alert to his frequent attempts to close the distance between us.

"You really climbed all that way for one old book?" I asked incredulously after a particularly wild story.

"Knowledge is worth the effort," he shrugged, watching me intently. "Besides, the view was spectacular. Though not as spectacular as present company."

I ignored the compliment. "You're different from other Alphas," I observed coolly. "Less..."

"Arrogant? Power-hungry? Controlling?" he offered with a smile that suggested he knew exactly what I meant.

"All of the above, I admitted. "Though Blake's not like that either, at least not all the time."

Steven's brow furrowed slightly at Blake's name.

As we finished our meal, Steven stood and extended his hand, his eyes holding a

challenge. "Dance with me?"

Chapter Comments