Marked Twice by the Alpha King

Is this real?

Ava's POV

"Yeah, I wanted to deck the guy right there. My boss had to hold me back. Her voice got serious. Ava, you can't just sit there waiting for scraps. If you actually love Blake..."

'Ella, don't.

Why not? 'Cause the truth sucks?" Her tone went gentle. 'Sweetie, I get that this is hard. But you're hiding from reality here."

"I'm not hiding."

"Then what're you doing? Waiting for some miracle? For Blake to suddenly realize he's throwing away the best thing that ever happened to him?"

I didn't answer. Couldn't. Maybe she was right.

"Look," Ella said, "I'm coming to see you tomorrow. We're gonna hash this out properly."

"You don't have to-"noveldrama

"Already decided. See you tomorrow."

She hung up. I stood there holding the phone, her words bouncing around in my head. Lyra becoming queen of Silverpeak? Had Blake already made up his

mind?

I walked over to the liquor cabinet. Stared at the bottles for a minute. I wasn't much of a drinker, but right now I needed something to quiet the noise in my

head.

The wine went down easier than it should've.

First glass told me it was just to relax. Second glass, I admitted I was running from the truth. Third glass, I stopped giving a damn.

The alcohol made everything

around the edges, but somehow made other

things crystal clear. I missed Blake so much it physically hurt. Missed his voice, his hands, the way he looked at me like I mattered. Missed feeling safe and wanted and like maybe I deserved good things.

But I was also scared shitless. What if this whole thing was just me living in some fantasy? Maybe Blake saw me as a fun distraction, and now it was time to get back to reality. Maybe Lyra was exactly what he needed-someone who matched his status, who could help him politically.

And me? I was just William Rivers' adopted daughter. A girl who couldn't even save her own father.

By the fourth glass, the room was spinning and my thoughts were all over the place. The forest outside looked like it was moving, swaying back and forth.

Maybe this was how it really was. Blake Morgan was the Alpha King. He needed someone like Lyra. Someone perfect and powerful and worthy.

I thought about Dad sitting in a cell, and how I'd failed him completely. The tears came without warning.

I kept drinking. Glass after glass until the world tilted sideways and nothing made sense anymore.

Sometime later-could've been minutes, could've been hours-I heard knocking.

At first I thought I was imagining it. But the sound kept coming, steady and insistent. I stumbled toward the door, nearly face-planting on the coffee table.

When I opened it, I thought for sure I was hallucinating.

Blake stood there in a dark coat, hair all messed up, eyes holding something I couldn't read.

"You..." My voice sounded weird, slurred, "What're you doing here?"

His gaze traveled from my tangled hair to the wine glass still in my hand, taking in what must've been a pretty pathetic sight.

'We need to talk," he said quietly.

I leaned against the doorframe, squinting at him through my alcohol haze. This man who'd turned my world upside down. Who Lloved and hated and needed and feared all at the same time.

'Is this real?" I asked. 'Or am I just drunk enough to see what I want?"

Blake's POV

When I saw Ava swaying in the doorway, eyes glazed over, my chest went tight. Her hair was a mess, that old shirt I'd seen a hundred times hanging loose on her frame. But what killed me was the pain in her eyes. Even through the alcohol haze, I could see it clear as day.

Christ, what have I done to her?

"Let's go inside." I reached out to steady her, but she stumbled back a step.

"You're really here." She blinked like she was still checking if I was real. "Thought you'd be busy planning your future with Miss Perfect Priestess.

Her words came out slurred, but the hurt and sarcasm hit me like a punch to the gut. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath.

"Ava, can we go inside and talk?"

She didn't answer, just turned and wobbled toward the living room. I followed, shutting the door behind me, watching her collapse onto the couch with that wine glass still in her hand.

The whole place reeked of red wine. Empty bottle sitting on the coffee table. She'd polished off a whole bottle by herself?

"You shouldn't drink this much alone." I moved closer, carefully took the glass from her fingers.

"Why not?" She looked up at me with this fragile defiance. "Nobody gives a damn anyway."

That hit me like a slap. I crouched in front of her, touched her cheek gently. "I give a damn, Ava. I give a hell of a lot of damns.

Something flickered in her eyes-confusion, then distrust. "You care? Then why'd you ship me off here? Why haven't I heard anything for days?"

"Cause I'm an idiot." Honest answer. "Thought giving you space was the right move. I was wrong."

I got up, headed for the kitchen to grab her some water. When I came back, she was sitting the same way, but her eyes followed every move I made.

"Drink this." I handed her the glass. "You'll feel better."

She took it but didn't drink right away. "Blake, I'm tired. Tired of guessing games, tired of waiting around, tired of not knowing where I

I sat down next to her, keeping some distance. Didn't want her feeling cornered while she was like this. "Then let me tell you."

She finally took a sip of water, then looked at me with those beautiful, hurting green eyes. "Tell me what?"

in your life.

"Tell you that Lyra means nothing to me." I met her gaze head-on. "Those photos, that kiss-none of it was what I wanted. She caught me off guard when I was dealing with reporters, kissed me before I could react. But I pushed her off immediately."

Ava's expression shifted slightly, but she stayed cautious. "Then why didn't you explain? Why leave me here going crazy?"

"Cause I'm a damn coward." I shook my head bitterly. "Told myself I was handling complicated politics, but really I was just running scared. Couldn't face you, couldn't admit I was failing at protecting your father."

"What d'you mean?"