Marked Twice by the Alpha King novel Chapter 81

Chapter 81

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.”

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.”

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.”

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

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.