Marked Twice by the Alpha King novel Chapter 110

Ava’s POY

“A few days ago,” Sophia replied with a casual shrug. He ran it by Father, who gave it his stamp of

“He’s planning to take me to the festival?” I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, trying to process this news. “And he hasn’t bothered mentioning it to me

“Wait–you didn’t know?” Sophia’s eyes widened. ‘t just suumed he’d talked to you already.”

“We spoke briefly the morning after… I trailed off, guilt pricking at my conscience. “Hut nothing since then.”

“God, I’m so sorry.” She bit her lip. “I wouldn’t have blurted it out like that if I’d koosen.“

“Don’t worry about it.” I managed a small smile, though confusion swirled inside Steven before making any decision.”

like leaves caught in a whirlwind. I just need to have a chat with

Something twisted in my chest–a jumble of feelings I couldn’t untangle if I tried. My fingers drifted to my neck where the mark pulsed warm beneath my touch. I’d been the one who’d told Blake we needed to keep things strictly professional. So why did his blessing of Steven’s plan feel like a pebble in my shoe?

“Blake’s on board with this?” I asked, keeping my tone light despite the circus in my head.

“He seemed to think you’d be good together,” Sophia nodded. “Called Steven a suitable choice, whatever that means.”

“Huh.” I fidgeted with the strap of my bag. “Surprising, considering my training schedule with Lucas.”

Sophia studied me for a moment, her head tilted lightly. “Look, I know this in out of nowhere, but would you consider coming? We could make it foursome–you, me, Steven, and lackson.”

My body tensed at Jackson’s name. The man who’d marked me, walked away, then left me chained in that cellar when he chose to save Sophia instead.

Sophia noticed my reaction immediately. “You two wouldn’t have to talk. You’d barely see each other in the crowd

“I’m not sure it’s a great idea, Sophia.”

Her confident facade cracked, revealing something fragile underneath. “Ever since that night, I can’t sleep through the night. I close my eyes and I’m back there–the smell, the silver burning into my skin.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “Father watches me like I might shatter. I’ve gone from daughter to glass figurine.” Her voice warned. “You’re the only one who really gets it. Who was there.”

Looking into her eyes, I saw the same shadows that haunted my own reflection–that particular brand of fear that only survivors recognize in each other.

“III think about it,” I sighed, feeling my resolve crumble. “But I need to talk to Steven first.”

“That’s all I’m asking.” Her face brightened like sunshine breaking through clouds.

We fell silent as the carriage rolled through the trading zone. My thoughts ping–ponged wildly–Steven’s kiss at Moon Falls, that mind–blowing night with Make, and now this festival bombshell.

What a mess I’ve made, I thought, watching buildings blur past the window. Kissing Steven one night, the falling into Maker’s bed the next. Some virus warrior I am. I almost smiled at the irony. The Academy’s top fighter, defeated by her own terrible judgment in men and from the same family, no lei.

Our carriage stopped outside a shop draped with flags from every major pack. Inside, fabrics caught the light in ways that made it clear I couldn’t afford a handkerchief from this place, let alone actual clothing.

“Morgan Miss,” a willowy shopkeeper practically folded herself in half with her how. “How may we serve you today?”

“Festival preparations,” Sophia answered with practiced grace. This is my friend Ava Rivers, Warr Academy champica fighter.”

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Chapter 110

The woman’s eyes widened. “Rivers? The Ava Riven? Three time trials champion?”

I shifted my weight, i

unmfortable v

with the recognition. “That’s me

“My niece brain at the Academy!” she gushed. “Has your poster on her wall!”

While Sophia Bitted between rows of elaborate posens, I hing back, feeling as out of place as a wolf in a chicken o

comp

“The festival’s our chance to flex.” Sophia explained, holding up garments that probably cost more

“I just need something that won’t make me stick mul,” I mattered.

Sephia’s laugh bubbled up. “The opposite, actually. As Steven’s plus–one, you’re a reflection of his choice. You need to turn heads.”

The shopkeeper returned with what looked like liquid moonlight poured into fabric form. My stomach knotted when I spotted the neckline.

That’s… pretty low–cut,” I said, wring the silver warrior ceremonial dress

Sophia tilted her head. You could always add jewelry. Maybe a choker?”

“I’ve been into higher necklines lately,” I said, trying to sound casual.

“Since when?” Her eyes narrowed playfully. “Got a secret hiding under there?”

The fitting room was bigger than my entire bathroom at home. Once alone, I carefully examined the mark in the mirror–gold had nearly consumed lackson’s sher brand, with just traces of silver remaining at the edges. How could 1 possibly explain this to anyone?

“Awa? Everything okay in there?” Sophia called after I’d been silent too long.

1 hastily wrapped a scarf around my neck. “Fine! Just wrestling with all these weird clasps.”

When 1 stepped out, Sophia’s jaw actually dropped

“Holy-“She pressed her hand to her heart. “You look incredible.”

I turned to the mirror, barely recognizing the woman staring back. The silver dress somehow managed to honor both sides of me–the warriors strength in

its clean lines, and a feminine grace I typically ignored. The fabric rippled with each movement, like I was wrapped in captured moonlight.