Marked Twice by the Alpha King novel Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Ava’s POV

“Interesting trick, Jackson said, circling me like a shark. “But there are other ways to remind you who you belong to.”

Before I could tell him to go to hell, his eyes half–closed, and a splitting pain exploded in my head. It felt like someone was taking a sledgehammer to my skull, cracking it open one hit at a time.

I dropped to my knees, the knife slipping from my grip. The mindlink between us–dead since he’d kicked me to the curb–roared back to life like a hurricane.

“Stop!” I screamed, grabbing my head.

My wolf thrashed wildly inside me, trying to shield my thoughts, but the mate bond gave Jackson a VIP pass into my mind that I couldn’t block.

Think that gold decoration can protect you? His voice filled my head, cold as ice. Wake up, Ava. You’re mine. Always have been, always will be.

I fell on all fours, my nails digging into my palms until blood spotted the carpet. This was worse than any beating–he was rummaging through my thoughts like they were his personal junk drawer.

Get out of my head! I pushed back with everything I had.

His laugh bounced around my skull. Fat chance. The mark means you can never ditch me. Not really.

I felt him digging deeper, hunting for specific memories–anything with Blake. When he found the moment Blake’s fingers had traced my mark, his rage hit me like a truck.

Maybe I’ll tell Sophia how her daddy’s been feeling you up, he taunted. Wonder how she’d take knowing daddy dearest is playing with my leftovers?

I collapsed, my body shaking like I was having a seizure. Mindlinks weren’t supposed to work this way–as weapons instead of bridges.

Suddenly, Jackson’s face changed. His focus wavered as another signal tried to connect with him. Through our forced link, I knew instantly who it was.

Sophia.

Jackson’s mental presence flipped from razor–sharp to honey–sweet so fast it was nauseating.

Hey babe, he projected to her, throwing up a wall between us.

I grabbed the chance, fighting to slam down my own mental barriers, but the damn mark kept a thread of connection open. I caught snippets of emotional tone rather than words–affection, reassurance, sweet nothings.

Yes, heading over soon… Just wrapping up… Got a surprise for you… Miss you too…

Each fake sentiment made my stomach turn. I dragged myself to the bed, using it to pull my jelly–legged body upright. My wolf instincts screamed for a weapon, an exit, anything.

Ava? Mom’s tentative mindlink brushed against me. You okay in there? Heard some commotion…

I slammed that door shut immediately. No way was I letting Mom see this train wreck.

Through our lingering connection, I caught fragments of Jackson’s promises: “Got something special for you“… “Be there in twenty“… “Love you too, babe.”

Each sweet nothing drove a nail into my chest–not from jealousy, but disgust at how easily he could mess with my head while sweet–talking her.

When their chat ended, Jackson’s focus snapped back to me, the mental pressure cranking up again.

Clock’s ticking for daddy dearest, his thoughts slithered through my mind. The Alpha King’s just using you as a plaything.

Despite feeling like my brain was in a vise, I fought back. You’re full of it. Blake said-

Blake said? Jackson’s mental laugh cut like glass. First–name basis with the Alpha King? How cute.

R

1/3

Here’s the deal, Jackson planted his ultimatum directly in my thoughts. Door number one: you keep fighting me, William dies, and you and mommy get kicked to the curb forever. Door number two: you become my little secret, and William walks free.

Go to hell, I pushed back, the effort making black spots dance in my vision.

Quit fighting what you can’t change, his voice crawled through every corner of my mind. Like your body, your thoughts will always be mine to play with.

My resistance grew more desperate as the golden threads in my mark flickered weakly, like a flashlight with dying batteries.

Never forget, Jackson’s final shot hit home, wolves mark once. You’re stuck with me.

I bit my tongue till I tasted blood. Mom was barely hanging on; I couldn’t crush her last hope, even if it was built on quicksand.