Marked Twice by the Alpha King novel Chapter 36

Chapter 36: How’s the Air Out East?

“M–Miss Morgan,” the guard stammered, chin dropping like he’d been smacked, “What brings you here?”

“Save Ava looking it from Moonlight Lodge and got curious,” Sophia said, voire carrying that can’t–touch–this confidence only Alpha blood could give. “Mind explaining why she can’t see her own father with the full moon breathing down our necks?”

I froze, huair short–circuiting at Sophia’s surprise appearance and even more at her jumping in to help me. Jackson, that snake, must have greased some palms to keep me out.

The guard’s reaction said it all–Sophia’s word might as well have been carved in stone. With her rocking that Silverpeak Alpha’s daughter status and being engiged to Shadow Creek’s next Alpha, crossing her would be career suicide.

Sweat beaded on the guard’s forehead as his eyes pinballed between us. “Didn’t realize you two were tight,” he said with a nervous chuckle. “Just a misunderstanding, Miss Rivers, you’re good to go.”

He practically leapt aside. I met Sophia’s gaze, those stormy gray blue eyes so much like Blakes, it was eerie. Words failed me, so I settled for a grateful nod before slipping past the guard.

A silver badged escort led me to visitation–all coll metal and silver bars. I drummed my fingers on the table until the door creaked open and Dad shuffled

“No touching,” the guard barked. “Traitors don’t get perks.”

My comeback died when I got a good look at Dad. His face was a road map of purple bruises and dried blood. Silver shackles had burned deep trenches into

his wrists and neck.

“Ava…” His voice sounded like tires on gravel. “You came.”

“Oh, Dad…” My eyes stung “Like I’d ever give up on you.”

He managed a crooked smile as he eased into the chair. Something broke inside me seeing him like this–the man who’d stood like a rock in council meetings, who’d taught me to fight and survive, now a battered shell of himself.

“Thought I might never see you again, he whispered.

“I tried coming sooner

He shook his head, concem flooding his eyes. This isn’t a place you should be. A traitor’s mark doesn’t help your rep.”

Tears slid down my cheeks despite my best efforts. Damn it.

“How’s Mom?” he asked, drugging me back to reality

“Not good,” I admitted. That’s mainly why I came. She barely eats, locks herself away all day. It’s like she’s vanishing, and I don’t know what to do.”

Pain flashed across Dad’s face. I knew it killed him that he couldn’t reach Sarah through their connection, couldn’t be there when she needed him most. Fated mates weren’t built to be separated like this.

Dad lifted his arms, displaying silver restraints that had eaten into his flesh. I sucked in a breath,

“They’re using this to block my mindlink with Sarah,” he said, voice raw. “Fated mates aren’t wired to be cut off like this. Her wolf’s in agony, dragging her spirit down with it.” He sighed. “Just be there for her. Remind her our love hasn’t changed.”

I nodded, swallowing hard. No way was I telling him Mom only wanted to talk about how Jackson was a “good Alpha” and I shouldn’t “waste my fated mate opportunity.” Or that said mate was engaged to another woman for political gain. Or that I’d signed a Blood Oath with Blake Morgan to save Dad’s skin. Talk about piling on the pain.

“Love you, Dad,” I managed, forcing a smile.

“Love you too, little wolf,” he answered, using my childhood nickname,

Chapter 36 How’s the Air Out East?

I bit my lip, head tilting–my thinking tell. God, I wanted to spill everything: my gig at Blackwood Manor, Blake defending me, my growing suspicions about Jackson. But any hint about who the real traitor might be could torpedo Blake’s investigation, maybe even fast track Dad’s execution. Everyone here would report my words back to Jackson.

“The air’s refreshing.” I answered in code. “I’ve picked up a tutoring job, teaching combat to a… gifted young wolf” Carefully avoiding anything that might identify Lucas.

Pride flickered in Dad’s eyes. “Teaching the young develops your wolf nature. Highest responsibility in our traditions. His voice was sandpaper–rough, but ryes sparked with meaning. “Some bloodline clues hide in ancient texts. Someone with access would be key”

I caught his drift immediately–other packs records might have evidence to clear his name.

“Tell Sarah 1 love her always, and we’ll be together again soon, Dad said, rising st